


Can't Take The Kid From The Fight

by chchchchcherrybomb, vinegarandglitter



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Ableist Language, Alternate Universe, Angst, Anxiety, Best Friends, Bullying, Class Issues, Coming Out, Consensual Underage Sex, Depression, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Eating Disorder, Emo, F/F, Fluff and Humor, Foster Care, Found Family, Gen, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Identity Issues, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Inspired by The O.C., Loneliness, M/M, Sexual Assault, Sexual Violence, Sibling Rivalry, Slow Burn, Stealing a car, Suicide Attempt, Teenage Rebellion, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, Wealth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:13:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 62
Words: 632,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24102670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chchchchcherrybomb/pseuds/chchchchcherrybomb, https://archiveofourown.org/users/vinegarandglitter/pseuds/vinegarandglitter
Summary: It's 2006. Connor Murphy's back in California high society after getting kicked out of boarding school. Evan Hansen just got arrested for stealing a car. It's a little easier to be an outsider when you're not alone.An AU inspired by The O.C.
Relationships: Alana Beck & Connor Murphy, Connor Murphy & Cynthia Murphy, Connor Murphy & Larry Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen), Cynthia Murphy & Zoe Murphy, Cynthia Murphy/Larry Murphy, Evan Hansen & Heidi Hansen, Evan Hansen & Zoe Murphy, Evan Hansen/Connor Murphy, Evan Hansen/Zoe Murphy, Heidi Hansen & Connor Murphy, Heidi Hansen & Larry Murphy, Miguel/Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen), Zoe Murphy/Sabrina Patel
Comments: 1134
Kudos: 397





	1. Show Me A Starry-Eyed Kid, I Will Break His Jaw

**Author's Note:**

> **Rose (vinegar-and-glitter):** So here's what happened. I revisited the first season of The O.C. earlier in the year when I found it on a streaming service and remembered that despite the fact that it's trashy and melodramatic and a little bit ridiculous, the first season was actually fantastic. At seventeen I didn't really recognize tropes and archetypes in television as well as I do now, but Season 1 of The O.C. was packed with ones I love - a troubled youth who is secretly extremely soft and has a hero complex, a character unexpectedly finding themselves in a world that's completely different from their own and, the greatest of all, found family. Because I am now and forever DEH trash, I pitched the idea of an O.C. AU to Tess, and they were intrigued enough to write it with me. As with everything we've written recently, it got a little out of hand. Welcome to The O.C, bitch.
> 
>  **Tess (chchchchcherrybomb):** Right so here's the thing... I've only seen the first season of the O.C. But I am very much a sucker for the above mentioned tropes, and I love an opportunity for some good old fashioned teen angst. And Evan Hansen and Connor Murphy are just such interesting subjects for some teen angst. The heavy use of emo music peppered throughout is entirely my fault. I also take full responsibility for the many references to it being 2006. I hope you enjoy this! :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan steals a car and meets his public defender.

He should have stayed at the library. 

Evan should have just stayed at the fucking library instead of going home and getting sucked into yet another of Ethan’s dumbass schemes. But here he is, in the parking lot of a restaurant he can’t afford to eat at with his not-actually-step-brother, who is hopped up on fuck knows what and is currently trying to get the door of a car open. 

A car that absolutely, one hundred percent does not belong to him. 

Guess it must be Thursday. 

“We should go,” Evan says, for what’s probably the fiftieth time. “The longer this takes, the more likely we are to get caught.”

“Almost got it,” says Ethan, for what’s probably the fiftieth time. “Gonna be worth it, I swear.”

Evan crosses his arms in front of his chest. Hunches his shoulders. Tries to make himself less fucking obvious. “What are you going to d-do with it, anyway? Drive it home? It’s going to be pretty clear that it d-doesn’t belong on our street.”

Ethan looks at him and rolls his eyes. “Quit being such a fucking l-l-l-loser, Evan,” he says, and it’s such a _bullshit_ mockery of the stutter Evan can’t quite get rid of that it makes something inside his chest burn, fanning the flame of rage that doesn’t seem to ever extinguish, no matter how many fucking breathing exercises the fucking guidance counsellor suggests he try. 

He wants to punch him. 

Punch him right in the face. Feel his fist collide with bone and cartilage, hear the crack, feel his knuckles split at the effort and watch the blood flow like a waterfall of fucking victory. 

Short-lived victory, he reminds himself before he actually does it. The one time he ever punched Ethan, he got himself three broken ribs for the trouble. 

Ethan’s nearly twice his size. 

If Evan punched him, he probably wouldn’t live to tell the tale. 

Whether or not he cares varies on a day to day basis. 

“I know a guy who can keep it safe for me,” Ethan says, still fumbling with the lock, and fucking hell it would make more sense at this point just to punch in the damn window, Jesus. “He’s got, like, a garage or whatever.”

“Or whatever,” Evan echoes dully, looking around the parking lot again. There’s still no one here, thankfully, but any minute now someone will show up and bust them because apparently, Ethan has no fucking clue how to break into a goddamn car. 

Add it to the list of things that Ethan has no fucking clue about. Like reading or math or being a decent fucking human being. 

Evan’s dad Mark met Elaine two years ago and they moved in together almost immediately. Elaine thinks it’s the cutest thing that Evan and Ethan have such similar names and likes to talk about how they’re brothers, how it’s so nice that she and Ethan finally have family. 

Ethan and Elaine aren’t his fucking family. 

Neither is Mark. Not really. 

Evan hasn’t had a real family since he was seven years old. 

_Boo-fucking-hoo,_ a voice in his head taunts him. _So you’ve got a dead mom and a deadbeat dad and a tragic fucking backstory or whatever. Nobody cares. Nobody gives a fuck about you._

The voice in Evan’s head sounds like his dad sometimes. 

Other times it sounds like Ethan, or that asshole Troy who was his foster dad for a hot minute a few months after his ninth birthday. 

Honestly, though, most of the time the voice in his head? 

It just sounds like himself. 

Fuck, he wishes he could just shut himself the fuck up. 

Two things happen simultaneously. 

A guy wearing a douchey jacket walks around the corner. 

Ethan finally gets the fucking car door open. 

“Hey! What the fuck are you doing?”

Ethan grabs Evan’s wrist, his grip bruising. “Get in the car.”

Evan’s ears are ringing. He feels a little bit like he’s been punched, or maybe he’s been trapped underwater. “What?”

“Get in the fucking car!”

It all happens quickly, too quickly to fully comprehend. Evan’s in the passenger seat of a car and Ethan’s hands are on the steering wheel and he’s pulling out of the parking space in what seems like no time at all, what the fuck, did whoever owns this car leave his keys in the ignition how is this happening so fucking quickly?

Evan looks at Ethan. Somehow, without Evan noticing, he’s managed to hotwire the car. 

_Great,_ the voice in his head sneers. _At least that part he can do in a hurry._

“Holy fuck,” Ethan says, laughs, and he looks at Evan with this huge, feral grin on his face, and Evan is hit with the realization that this guy shouldn’t be behind the wheel of a vehicle right now. 

Or possibly ever. 

His blood is rushing too fast in his head, his pulse going too quickly, his heart won’t stop pounding and he’s cold and hot all at once and there’s a ringing in his ears and there are sirens oh god there are sirens what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck-

“Holy fuck,” says Ethan again, this time without laughing, and he’s turning the steering wheel like a madman, he’s turning around a corner trying to outrun the cops but he’s made the wrong fucking decision because that’s a dead end Evan knows it’s a fucking dead end holy fuck. 

The feral, brutal grin on Ethan’s face returns.

He tightens his grip on the steering wheel, knuckles white. 

For a moment, Evan’s sure Ethan is going to drive right into a wall. 

Right into a fucking brick wall. He’s fucking certain of it. 

That certainty is cold and dark, tightening its grip around his insides. 

There’s a detached kind of horror as Evan realizes that he might not actually care. 

Ethan slams on the brakes seconds before impact. 

Evan feels his face slam into the dashboard. 

Ethan swears loudly, then bashes his own head on the steering wheel, hitting the horn in this long, drawn-out sound. 

Evan’s hands are shaking, and something inside him is screaming, but it’s drowned out by the car horn and the never-ending sound of sirens. 

* * *

In the year since Heidi Herzberg started working as a public defender, she’s walked into a juvenile detention center more times than she can count. That doesn’t make it any less jarring, any less strange after over fifteen years of working in corporate law with its shiny offices and even shinier paychecks. 

It still feels strange to walk into a place like this, sure, but it also feels right. 

Like she’s where she’s supposed to be. 

She’s here to meet her newest court-appointed client, a sixteen-year-old named Evan Hansen. Heidi’s spent an evening going over this kid’s file, trying to get a picture of what she’s getting into. 

From all accounts, the picture’s pretty bleak. 

When they bring the kid out in handcuffs, Heidi gets her first proper look at him. Evan Hansen has dark blond hair, a massive bruise on his cheek and a blank expression. He doesn’t look at her until the corrections officer takes the handcuffs off and even then, he won’t quite look her in the eye. 

“Evan,” she says, keeping her voice cheerful and upbeat. “Heidi Herzberg. The court appointed me as your public defender.” He looks at her and blinks slowly, clearly a little bewildered, and she supposes she can’t blame him. 

Heidi knows what she looks like. She’s in her forties, sure, but nearly twenty years of living among the west coast elite means she’s had both reason and means to look after herself. She’s young-looking, she’s blonde and she’s not unattractive, which means she’s been underestimated her entire career. 

Evan looks at her with this expression she can’t quite read, despite decades of reading people, figuring out their tells and exploiting their weaknesses. It’s an unfamiliar feeling, not to be able to read someone, and Heidi can’t decide if it irritates or intrigues her. 

She fixes Evan with a smile. “Trust me, you could do worse.”

Evan just blinks. 

“Are you alright?” Heidi asks, genuinely interested in his response. “Are they treating you alright?”

Evan shrugs a little, then squares his shoulders, like he’s preparing for a fight. “Where’s Ethan?” 

His voice is as even and hard to read as his expression. 

“Ethan’s over eighteen,” Heidi says, gesturing for him to sit. “He stole a car while high and was found with drugs in his jacket. With his priors… I’d say he’s looking at a couple of years at least.” 

There’s something in Evan’s face that shifts, relaxes almost. 

There’s a sort of sick feeling in Heidi’s stomach as she recognizes that the shift in Evan’s expression, subtle though it is. 

Relief. 

That’s what she’s seeing. 

“But I’m not here to talk about Ethan,” she continues, sitting down and looking him in the eye until he finally, reluctantly follows suit. “I’m here to talk about you. This is your first time in lock up and I doubt you’re interested in it happening again.” She looks over his file, even though she’s got the whole thing basically memorized by now. “Your grades… not great. Suspended for fighting twice, truancy three times.”

Evan shrugs. Hunches over his shoulders, like he’s trying to make himself smaller. Doesn’t say anything. 

“But that’s not what interests me,” Heidi continues, looking right at him, staring him down until he looks her in the eye. “What interests me are your test scores. 98th percentile on your SATs." She tilts her head. "You took them as a sophomore, that's unusual."

Evan shrugs again. "Guidance counselor made me," he mumbled. He doesn't offer any additional information.

"These scores are fantastic," Heidi continues. "Have you thought about college?”

Evan actually laughs at that. It’s this hollow, choked sounding thing that Heidi decides immediately that she hates. He looks at his lap. 

Heidi tries again. 

“Have you given _any_ thought at all to your future, Evan?” 

Slowly, after what feels like a long time, Evan looks up. Blinks. His face twists a little, contorts into something bone-achingly sad, then evens out into that blank expression so quickly that Heidi’s almost convinced she never actually saw it. 

He still doesn’t say anything. 

“I’m on your side here,” Heidi says, and she means it. She really, genuinely means it. “But you’ve got to help me out. Give me something.”

Evan blinks again. 

When he does speak, it’s unexpected. 

“Modern medicine is advancing to the point that the average human lifespan will be a hundred. But I read this article that said social security is supposed to run out by the year 2025. Which means people are going to have to stay in their jobs until they’re eighty.” He looks at Heidi, still with that same blank expression. “So I don’t want to commit to anything too soon.”

Heidi blinks. 

Laughs a little. 

The kid’s funny. 

“Okay,” she says after a moment. “Look, I can plead this down to a misdemeanor. Petty fine, probation, sure. But I’m going to be real with you. Stealing a car because your older brother told you to? That’s stupid. You can’t afford to be stupid-”

“He’s not my brother.”

Heidi looks at her file. “Step-brother, then.”

Evan almost smiles then, this twisted, sad smile that breaks Heidi’s heart. It disappears almost instantly. “Mark and Elaine aren’t married.”

“Alright,” Heidi says, squaring her own shoulders. “My point still stands. You can’t afford to be stupid. Smart kid like you, you’ve got to have a plan. A dream. Something to work for, to work towards-”

“Having a dream doesn’t make you smart,” Evan interrupts darkly, and there’s actual emotion in his voice, actual emotion on his face, a fire in his eyes that twists something inside Heidi’s stomach. “It just gets your hopes up. Which is fine if you’re into disappointment, but not my scene.” He sinks back into his chair. “Just… tell me what I need to do to get out of here.”

It turns out, not a lot. They go over details and it’s more or less straightforward. Evan’s not exactly talkative, but he’s clearly not trying to make things harder on himself. His answers are short, factual and to the point. Facts, not feelings. 

Heidi can appreciate that. 

Less than an hour later, Heidi and Evan are waiting outside the detention center for Evan’s dad to pick him up. Evan looks almost annoyed when it becomes obvious that Heidi’s not about to leave him to wait alone. 

“You don’t have to stay,” Evan says for what feels like the twentieth time. “I’m fine waiting.”

“I have to release you into the car of a parent or guardian,” Heidi replies, the same reply she’s given every other time. “It’s the law, kid. I’m staying.”

Nearly half an hour passes before a car pulls up, far too fast to be safe, and a broad-shouldered guy with dark blond hair the same shade as Evan climbs out, jaw set in a hard line. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” the man says immediately, looking straight at Evan, who has shrunk even further into himself. “Why the fuck would you get caught, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Hi,” Heidi says, instinctively standing in front of Evan, putting herself between this kid and this angry man. “I’m Heidi Herzberg, I’m Evan’s attorney-”

“You’re wasting your fucking time,” says the man. His name’s Mark, Heidi remembers from Evan’s file. Mark Ogonowski. Evan has his late mother’s last name. Margaret Hansen passed away a week before Evan’s eighth birthday, according to his file. Mark hadn’t been in the picture then. It had taken some time to track him down to take guardianship of Evan, who’d bounced around foster homes until he was eleven. 

Years of working in law have taught Heidi to trust her gut, and right now her gut is screaming that letting this kid go home with this asshole is a bad move. 

A really bad move. 

But her hands are tied here. Mark Ogonowski is Evan Hansen’s legal guardian and just because Heidi’s got a bad feeling about this doesn’t give her the right to refuse to let the guy take his kid home. 

On Monday she can make a few calls. See if she can get child protective services involved. There’s something about the bruise on Evan’s face…

“Here’s my card,” Heidi says to Evan, handing him her business card. “If there’s anything you need, just give me a call.”

Evan looks at the card, then at Heidi. Blinks. Nods, almost imperceptibly. 

Then Mark’s all but throwing Evan into the car and they’re driving away, leaving Heidi Herzberg with a sinking feeling in her stomach and a heart that’s breaking for this poor kid.

* * *

Evan and Ethan share a room in their miniscule apartment. Elaine had made some big song and dance about it when they first moved in, talking about how much fun ‘the boys’ were going to have as roommates. 

“Like a slumber party every night,” she’d said, and Evan vividly remembers wanting to punch her in the face. 

The guidance counsellor says Evan has anger issues. 

Suggested that he take deep breaths and go on walks. 

Because that’s exactly what’s going to fix him, obviously - nature. 

When he was a kid, he liked trees, he remembers all of a sudden. He went on this outdoor survival thing when he was thirteen. 

Weird, the way you remember shit like that. 

Evan’s in the room he and Ethan share now, listening to Elaine and Mark scream at each other through the wall. It’s not like they don’t do their fair share of screaming at each other all the fucking time but today Elaine’s in fine form. 

Most of her screaming seems to be about Evan, somehow. 

Evan can’t quite hear exactly what Elaine’s saying, but it’s pretty clear she’s pissed because apparently, Ethan deciding to get high and steal a car is somehow his fault. The fact that _Ethan’s_ been fucking arrested is somehow _Evan’s_ fault. 

Fucking hell. 

There’s screaming and yelling and crying and the sounds of glass smashing and the screaming get more high-pitched, and Evan’s chest hurts from his heart pounding, blood rushing too fast because he has no idea what the fuck is going on in there. 

Maybe Mark’s just flat out murdering Elaine, right now with Evan in the next room. 

Fuck, that’s dark. 

The screaming and the crying dim after a while, then a whole other set of screaming starts up, and Evan feels like punching a hole through the fucking wall because of-fucking-course they’re having sex in the living room, Jesus _fucking_ Christ. 

Evan covers his head with a pillow, trying to drown out the sound. Pushes the pillow over his ears, then over his face, wondering for a sick minute if he should just suffocate himself. 

Fucking fuck. 

He pulls out a battered copy of _The Old Man and the Sea_ and starts reading, but it’s hard to fucking concentrate with his heart still hammering and his sweaty hands are finding it difficult to turn the page and he’s shaking a little, because this whole experience has just been… 

Just fucking awful. 

His hands shake and he tries to concentrate on the words on the page, not on the voice in his head that’s sneering at him. _What did you fucking expect? Ethan was always going to end up in prison. You’re just lucky he didn’t kill you on the way there, or drag you down with him._

He’s so fucking stupid. 

So fucking stupid. 

Evan thinks about Ms. Herzberg, her blonde hair and her kind eyes and the look on her face when she told him that he couldn’t afford to be stupid. 

That he should be planning for his future. 

Easy to talk about planning for your future when you’re wearing a pair of fucking diamond earrings, fucking hell. Who the fuck runs around wearing fucking diamond earrings? Sure, they were small diamonds but Evan’s been around Ethan and his tendency to steal shit long enough to recognize a legitimate diamond. 

She’d been nice, though, Ms. Herzberg. Nice in a way that didn’t immediately make him want to punch her, which was… refreshing, to say the least. Obviously she’d felt sorry for him or whatever, which makes sense because any paperwork about his life would make him look completely pathetic, but… she hadn’t been super obvious about it.

Evan thinks about Ms. Herzberg’s blonde hair and diamond earrings and probably expensive suit. Way fucking fancier than he’d expected for a public defender. 

She clearly has money. Who the fuck knows what she’s doing, slumming it trying to get charges dropped for a sixteen-year-old fuckup from this dump of a town. 

Evan doesn’t realize he’s drifted off until his door slams open and Mark bursts into his room. He’s not wearing a fucking shirt, there are scratches on his shoulders and he has a fucking hickey and that’s fucking disgusting, Jesus fucking Christ. 

“Pack up your shit,” he says, something almost bored in his voice. “Elaine wants you gone.”

Something cold seizes Evan’s chest. 

“What?” he hears himself ask, stupidly. 

“Elaine wants you gone,” says Mark, pulling open one of the chests of drawers and starting to throw clothes at random into a backpack. “You’re seventeen, you’re old enough to look after yourself, so… get the fuck out of here.”

“I’m sixteen,” Evan says, standing up, his heart racing too fast way too fast fucking fuck he’s going to get heart failure at sixteen fucking years old at this rate. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck. 

“Whatever,” says Mark, still sounding bored. “Elaine wants you gone and this is her house too, so… pack up your shit and go.”

“Where am I supposed to go?” Evan demands, and he’s clenching his fists hard, hating the way his eyes are stinging because he’s not going to cry, he’s not going to fucking cry, this is bullshit this is such bullshit it’s not fair it’s not fair it’s not fair-

“Anywhere but here,” says Mark, and now he just sounds irritated. “Get your shit and get the fuck out of here.” 

Evan just stands there in disbelief for a long moment. 

Mark lets out this annoyed sigh, then runs his hand through his hair. “She might cool off in a couple of weeks, whatever. Come back then and maybe we’ll let you stay. Just… lay low for a while, yeah? Be smart about this.”

Evan doesn’t know what to say. 

Doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to react, his insides are screaming and he hates the fear that won’t let go of his insides, the fear and the panic that live somewhere alongside this dull feeling of inevitability, because of course this is how this goes, of- _fucking_ -course this is his life now. 

Mark throws the backpack at him and leaves the room without a word. 

Evan stares at the backpack for a long moment. 

And then somehow, he’s packing up his belongings, and he feels like he’s outside his body watching it happen, like he’s not even really there, like there’s a robot-Evan going through the motions of putting everything in his miserable life into a beaten-up backpack.

Everything he owns, everything he can call his own fits into the backpack, with the exception of his skateboard. 

He feels like he’s floating, drifting, watching in morbid fascination as robot-Evan slings the backpack over his shoulder, tucks his skateboard under his arm, and heads out of the apartment into the night. 

It’s getting dark. 

The library’s already closed. 

That’s usually where Evan goes when he needs somewhere to lay low. He’ll hide in the bathroom just before closing, then wait until the staff leave and sleep between the stacks. Set his old, beaten up alarm clock for half an hour before opening, then hide in the bathroom again until the library’s got enough people in it for him to sneak out without it being totally obvious he’d been there all night. 

He’s pretty sure the librarians know, but… 

He still keeps up the illusion, anyway. 

That alarm clock’s in his bag, along with shirts and underwear and the other pair of jeans he owns, jeans with a massive hole in the outside seam that he hasn’t thrown out because he only owns two fucking pairs of jeans and it’s not like Mark is going to buy him any more. 

Especially not now. 

Fuck. 

Evan puts his hands in his pockets. Feels his fingers catch on something almost smooth.

Carefully, he pulls the glossy business card out of his pocket and looks at it carefully. 

_Heidi Herzberg, Attorney at Law._

Ms. Herzberg’s last words to Evan ring in his ears. 

_“If there’s anything you need, just give me a call.”_

This is…

Fuck.

Probably not what she had in mind, but…

It’s starting to rain.

What other choice does he have?

Evan fishes around in his pocket for spare change, then heads to the nearest pay phone.

Heidi Herzberg answers on the first ring.

“This is Heidi.”

Evan closes his eyes. “Uh, hi. Ms. Herzberg? It’s, uh, Evan. Evan Hansen? We… we met earlier.”

There’s a momentary pause, then Heidi speaks. “Of course, hi Evan. Is everything okay?”

Evan bites his lip. 

Feels his heart pounding too fast in his chest.

“I… I didn’t have anyone else to call.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "Snitches And Talkers Get Stitches And Walkers" by Fall Out Boy.


	2. I Think There's Something We Can Share  That's Completely New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan arrives in Newport Beach. Connor meets a handsome stranger.

Evan doesn’t say much on the drive back to Newport Beach. 

Doesn’t say anything, in fact. 

Heidi finds herself keeping up a running commentary as she drives, just to fill the silence. Stupid, irrelevant things like the history of the area, which has to be the most boring thing ever to a sixteen-year-old boy who’s from a completely different world to the one Heidi’s spent the last nearly twenty years in. 

What the hell is she doing?

Bringing this kid back to Newport Beach, back to her McMansion in a street full of other equally huge and useless McMansions… talk about a fish out of water. She’s lived here for years and she still feels out of her depth.

What is she thinking, bringing this kid here?

There are other things she could do, she knows full well. Take him back to the juvenile detention center, for one. 

Except she absolutely, one hundred percent cannot do that, because it would completely shatter her heart. The idea of this kid, back behind bars because he has nowhere else to go…

Unacceptable.

She’ll contact child services after the weekend, let the kid have a break. Find out what the next step is. 

At the very least, she can give this kid somewhere to sleep for a few nights. 

God knows she has the space. 

As she pulls into the driveway, Evan’s eyes widen, a look of genuine astonishment on his face. It’s the only real emotion she’s seen from him since she picked him up on the side of the road, outside a pay phone box, with a backpack and a skateboard. 

He’d been holding the skateboard the way a kid would hold a teddy bear. Something about that makes Heidi’s insides scream. 

“I know,” Heidi says, laughing a little sheepishly. “It’s huge. It’s stupid. But my husband wanted to live here, and all the houses in this neighborhood are like this, so… stupidly huge house it is.”

Evan’s face drops back into that guarded expression. “Does your husband know I’m coming?”

Heidi feels the familiar pang of sadness, the familiar throb of grief. “My husband passed away last year,” she says quietly. “It’s just me.”

“I’m sorry,” says Evan, his voice quiet. Gentle, almost. There’s something in his eyes that makes her think he means it.

“It’s alright,” says Heidi awkwardly. “Let’s get you settled in, yeah?”

* * *

What the fuck. 

What the fuck is he doing here, what the actual fuck. 

Sure, Evan knew Ms. Herzberg was kind of fancy or whatever, but he didn’t expect her to be living in an honest to fuck mansion in fucking Newport Beach, what the fuck what the fuck. 

He doesn’t belong here he absolutely does not belong here he’s freaking out, every single cell in his body is freaking the fuck out what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck?

There’s a maid here. 

An honest to god fucking maid, who is talking to Ms. Herzberg in Spanish, and holy fuck what the fuck what the fuck?

The maid leaves the room and Ms. Herzberg looks at Evan with this embarrassed expression on her face. “Sorry,” she says apologetically. “Rosa’s English isn’t great and I did some volunteer work in Mexico during my undergrad, so… I like to keep up my Spanish.”

“Okay,” says Evan, for lack of anything else to add. 

“It probably seems… weird that I pay someone to pick up after me when it’s just me here,” says Heidi in a rush, her cheeks getting pinker by the minute. “We just, uh… David and I used to host lots of events? And we were both so busy. Rosa’s our housekeeper, she takes care of… the house.” Ms. Herzberg rubs her hands together in a fluid, nervous motion. She twists a ring around her finger, and Evan realizes with a start that this must be her wedding band. 

_“My husband passed away last year.”_

She’s still wearing her wedding ring. 

That’s… really fucking sad. 

“After David died and I moved to working as a public defender, I thought about letting Rosa go,” says Ms. Herzberg quietly, something sad in her voice. She smiles a little. “Then I just… didn’t. Selfish of me, really, but… I didn’t want to be alone.”

Evan doesn’t know what to say. 

His chest aches a little. 

A lot, actually. 

Unsurprising, considering how much fucking racing his heart’s been doing recently. 

He looks around the expensively decorated living room and feels his heart speed up again, because this is huge this is ridiculous there is more room in this living room than in his entire apartment is there seriously only one person living here? What the fuck?

What the _fuck?_

Evan’s still in shock when Ms. Herzberg escorts him to a bedroom, which requires them to go up a ridiculously fancy flight of stairs. The bedroom is at least three times the size of his bedroom at home. Rosa is making the bed with soft-looking gray sheets. There’s a dresser that’s probably more expensive than everything Evan currently owns and a huge bookshelf. 

A bookshelf that’s full of books. 

He takes a step toward it without even realizing what he’s doing. It’s full of classics, all in hardback, all in immaculate edition, except for something small and battered poking up from between _A Tale of Two Cities_ and _War and Peace._

Evan pulls it out carefully to reveal a worn out, dog-eared copy of something called _The Flowers of Evil_. Ms. Herzberg notices and lets out this soft laugh. 

“I had no idea that was in there,” she says, something fond in her voice. “David liked French poetry.”

“This isn’t French,” Evan finds himself saying, like an idiot, because… even _he_ can tell that it isn’t French and he’s not exactly fucking Sartre. 

“Oh, it's not in French,” says Ms. Herzberg with a laugh. “Much to David’s frustration. He learned French and Latin in high school and college but he was never any good. But he really liked Baudelaire, even though he could only read the English translation, and was constantly annoyed by the fact he couldn’t read it in the original language.”

As far as things to be annoyed about, this seems genuinely insane to Evan, but he’s not about to tell Ms. Herzberg that, given that she is the only thing preventing him from sleeping under a bridge tonight. 

He just needs this one night. 

One decent night’s sleep where he doesn’t have to worry about being robbed or stabbed or whatever. 

Then he can figure this out on his own. Make some kind of game plan. 

He hadn’t slept at all overnight in jail. It had been… exhausting and terrifying and overwhelming but also boring as fuck. A lot of waiting and worrying and the voice in his head screaming at him about how he’d been so fucking stupid to get himself into this situation in the first place. 

Ms Herzberg’s words keep echoing in his ears. 

_“You can’t afford to be stupid.”_

No fucking shit. 

Evan has no intention of ending up behind bars again. Not ever, if he can help it. 

He’s got to be smarter than this. 

Figure shit out and look out for himself for a change. Not following Ethan around like a pathetic lost puppy because he’s lonely or whatever. Not trying his best to make Elaine tolerate him, to prove that he’s worth keeping around, because it’s beyond obvious that no matter how much he tries, he’s never going to matter to her, not even after two years of her talking bullshit about how they’re a family. 

Ethan’s the one who fucked up. Ethan’s nineteen and still lives at home, never went to college, doesn’t have a steady job or a single brain cell. But somehow this is Evan’s fault? 

He’s sixteen. 

He’s fucking sixteen. 

It doesn’t feel like it, really. Most of the time Evan feels…

Old. 

Tired. 

Done. 

Just fucking done. 

This house is completely insane. 

Ms. Herzberg’s still talking, he realizes, and he tries to nod, tries to pretend like he’s listening but everything’s too much, it’s just too fucking much, and he barely knows which way is up right now. 

Rosa’s finished making the bed and Ms. Herzberg’s looking at him with this sad, wide-eyed expression. 

“Does that sound okay, Evan?”

Evan blinks. Nods. 

He has no fucking clue what she just said. 

Ms. Herzberg smiles a little. “I guess this must all seem like a lot, huh.”

That’s a fucking understatement if he ever heard one. 

“Thank you,” he says suddenly, realizing that until now, he hasn’t said anything. “I swear I’ll be out of your hair by morning. I promise.”

Ms. Herzberg’s smile drops. She looks so fucking sad. “I need to know you’re safe,” she says after a moment. “Stay here until we figure things out with your dad, okay? You’re not in my hair. I have plenty of space.”

“I just need somewhere to sleep tonight-”

“Evan,” Ms. Herzberg interrupts, something firm in her voice. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need.”

Evan stares at her for a moment. “I’ll be okay,” he says after a while.

“We still have the hearing,” she reminds him, her voice still firm. “If your dad doesn’t want you in the house, then it’s probably best that you stick around until then. So I know where you are, that you’re safe.”

Something inside Evan crumbles a little. 

The hearing. 

Right. 

She just wants to keep him where she can see him in case she loses his case and gets him sent to juvie or whatever. 

Of course. 

He’s not welcome here, not really, he’s just…

Well. 

It’s nicer than jail, he supposes. 

A hell of a lot nicer. 

“You must be exhausted,” says Ms. Herzberg. “Wanna get some rest?” Evan nods, this small movement that he’s worried for a moment she might not even see. But there’s a small smile on her face and she nods back. “Okay. I’m at the end of the hall if you need me?” Her face twists a little apologetically. “It should be easy enough to find, but if not, just… yell, I guess.”

With that, she exits the room, closing the door softly behind her. 

Evan looks around. 

Sits on the edge of the bed. 

Jesus fuck, this place is fancy. 

He doesn’t belong here. He does not belong here at all. 

Evan just… sits. For hours, or maybe just a couple of seconds, he doesn’t know. Eventually, he opens up his backpack, thinking he’ll maybe read or whatever and finds his fingers wrapping around his packet of emergency cigarettes. 

And. 

Well. 

After the last 48 hours, he could really fucking use one. 

Evan puts the packet in the pocket of his hoodie, then tentatively opens the door to the room he’s staying in. He can’t hear anything in this huge, empty house, but he can see there’s a light on at the room at the very end of the hall. 

Must be Ms. Herzberg’s room. 

Carefully, he closes the door to the room he’s supposed to be sleeping in, then walks cautiously to the top of the staircase. Walks down it equally cautiously until he’s on the ground floor. 

Heads out the front door and turns to look at the huge, ridiculous house. 

It doesn’t feel right, smoking outside this building. He doesn’t want to be a dick, considering everything Ms. Herzberg is doing for him, so he walks down the way too long driveway until he’s at street level. 

Evan lights his cigarette with shaking hands, fumbling with the lighter for a bit, but finally getting there. He takes a long drag and immediately feels better. 

Like he can breathe, somehow, which is stupid because he is literally inhaling tar. 

Evan isn’t exactly what you’d call a regular smoker. He doesn’t have the fucking money for that. Cigarettes are a luxury he can’t really afford, but he tries to have a pack on him for when things are just too hard, when he’s freaking out a little too much. 

As far as coping mechanisms go, it’s probably pretty shitty. 

Whatever. 

He takes another drag. Blows out the smoke and looks at the sky. 

There are more stars out here than back home, that’s for sure. Probably because it’s less densely populated, because all these rich assholes have massive houses for like, two people. 

He feels a bit bad the minute the thought flicks through his mind. Ms. Herzberg has been kind to him. 

_It’s her fucking job,_ says the voice in his head disdainfully. _She’s your lawyer, not your new mommy - get your shit together, asshole._

“Hey.”

Fuck, he hadn’t even heard anyone approaching, Jesus. He blinks once and turns his head to the direction of a sound. 

There’s a kid standing at the end of the adjoining driveway. He must be about Evan’s age, but he doesn’t look anything like the kids in Evan’s neighborhood. 

Doesn’t look much like any rich kid Evan ever seen, either. 

He’s tall, thin, wearing skinny jeans and a t-shirt and hoodie that look a little beaten up, worn in, like he hasn’t bothered changing in a while. His hair is long and his cheekbones are sharp. On closer inspection, Evan can see chipped black nail polish on his fingers. 

Definitely not what Evan was expecting from a kid who lives in a neighborhood like this. 

Evan blinks. “Hey?” he ventures, hating how unsure his voice sounds. Wobbly and weak and… fuck, this guy must think he’s a total freak. 

The guy looks at him, something unfamiliar in his expression. “Who are you?”

It takes Evan way too fucking long to formulate a response. 

Way too fucking long. 

He just… doesn’t have an answer that’s going to satisfy someone who lives in a place like this, even if that someone doesn’t look like they belong. 

“Nobody,” he manages to say, and looks away. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, he’s just… 

Bad at people. 

Really fucking bad at people. 

Evan thinks the guy is about to go, but instead he speaks again. 

“Hey.” Evan turns to look at him. He’s holding himself in this weird, tense way that Evan finds weirdly familiar. “Can I bum a smoke?”

Usually he’d just tell whoever’s trying to bum a smoke to fuck right off, but Evan feels the corner of his mouth tug into a small smile, for some weird fucking reason. It makes no fucking sense that he’d give a cigarette to a stranger, considering how fucking expensive cigarettes are and how fucking broke Evan is, considering that given how he’s just fucked up his entire life this is the last pack of cigarettes he’ll be able to afford for a while, but somehow he finds himself nodding, walking toward this guy and taking his pack of cigarettes out from his hoodie. 

He pulls one out and hands it to this guy, who takes it. Something in his expression shifts and he starts fumbling through his pockets. 

Evan’s hands are shaking too much to navigate a lighter right now, but there’s no point giving someone a fucking cigarette if they can’t light it, so instead he takes a long drag of his cigarette. Holds the cigarette out to this guy. “Here.”

The guy smiles. Leans in and uses Evan’s lit cigarette to light his own, inhaling in this weirdly mesmerizing motion that Evan can’t take his eyes off. 

“Thanks,” says the guy, exhaling a cloud of smoke and looking at Evan with this… intense expression.

It feels like… being x-rayed or something. 

Evan watches the guy carefully for a long moment, just trying to… figure him out. It doesn’t make a lot of sense, really - it seems like he lives next door, but he doesn’t fit the mold of rich and privileged. There’s something in the way he carries himself that doesn’t add up, and it’s…

Well.

Evan has always liked puzzles. 

And this guy’s a puzzle. 

The guy seems to notice Evan staring and looks at his shoes. Evan follows the guy’s gaze to see he’s wearing Chucks. The real deal, rather than some off-brand bullshit. God knows Evan couldn’t afford them. 

He had a pair, once. Ethan stole them from somewhere about six months and got pissed off that they didn’t fit him, so gave them to Evan for a grand total of three weeks, then decided to throw them in a bonfire at some dumbass party for no goddamn reason. 

“So,” says the guy, taking a drag of his cigarette. “What happened to your face?”

Oh. 

Right. 

Evan’s face. 

He’s still got that huge fucking bruise from Ethan driving a stolen car like a maniac to try to outrun the cops. Fuck. He must look like shit, this guy must think he’s some kind of fucking psycho, fuck, _fuck,_ why the fuck can’t he fucking escape Ethan’s bullshit when Ethan’s in fucking jail, what the fuck?

The guy looks almost sorry for a moment. “I mean. Are you alright? That’s like a nasty bruise?”

_Are you alright?_

Evan’s gone for over a fucking decade without hearing those words, then he gets them twice in forty-eight hours. Why does this guy even care?

Does he care?

Why does he care?

The guy is looking at him like he actually wants to hear Evan’s reply, and Evan just can’t wrap his head around why this guy could possibly want to hear about it all.

He doesn’t want this guy to think he’s as much of a fuck-up as he is. 

The lie falls from his lips, as naturally as breathing. 

“I-I fell out of a tree. Actually.”

The guy laughs awkwardly, like he’s not sure if he believes him. 

Huh. 

No one usually cares to investigate Evan’s lies. 

No one usually cares at all. 

“You fell out of a tree?” says the guy after a moment. “That’s the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard oh my god.”

Evan kind of smiles at that. 

At least, he thinks he does. 

Smiling isn’t something he does a lot of. It probably looks wrong. 

“You should come up with a better story,” says the guy after a moment, something almost… warm in his voice. “Say you punched a racist or something.”

Evan laughs. 

Actually laughs. 

It sounds weird, it sounds so fucking weird, but it’s a genuine laugh, and he can feel that he’s smiling a little, and the guy smiles as well and Evan weirdly likes it. 

“Maybe I saved a kid,” Evan offers, a little cautiously. “From a-a fire or something.”

The guy laughs. “That’s a good one, too.” He looks almost thoughtful, then smiles again. “Wrestled a gun out of the hands of a madman?”

Evan laughs again. Fuck, this is weird. “Took down a mugger?” he tries. 

The guy grins. “Escaped a cult?”

Evan can’t help but let another laugh loose. This is so fucking weird. “P-punched by a kangaroo?”

The guy grins even wider, this big smile that makes his eyes crinkle. Evan’s never seen anything like it. “Hit in the face by a paparazzo camera,” says the guy, exhaling smoke. “Since you’re super famous in, like, England.”

“Smacked my head on the dash of a car I stole trying to outrun the cops?” 

Fuck. 

He did not mean to say that, fuck. 

He takes a final drag of his cigarette and the guy laughs, this big genuine laugh. “Good one,” he says, then follows suit, dropping the butt of his own cigarette to the ground and stubbing it out with the toe of his shoe. 

Then he does something Evan doesn’t expect. 

“I’m Connor,” he says, extending his hand. “By the way.”

Evan feels his shoulders tense a little. 

It feels… weird to shake someone’s hand. The idea of touching another human being is so fucking alien to him outside of the context of punching them in the face. 

He doesn’t want to punch this guy, though. 

That’s new. 

He pretty much wants to punch everyone. 

He takes Connor’s hand and shakes it. The minute their hands meet, Evan’s instantly aware that his palms are sweaty and his nails are chewed to stubs and he’s gross and sweaty and hasn’t showered since before he spent the night in jail and he’s so fucking disgusting this guy is going to figure out how gross he is any minute and stop smiling and stop acting like he wants to hear what Evan has to say fuck fuck. 

The handshake is brief, but Connor isn’t the one to pull away first. 

“Evan,” he says, introducing himself in the most awkward fucking way because he’s a fucking nightmare, fucking hell. 

Connor’s still smiling a little, though, and Evan can’t quite figure out why. 

“Thanks for the cigarette,” says Connor. 

“Yeah,” says Evan, and fuck that’s a bullshit response, but Connor doesn’t seem bothered. He just kind of nods and waves, still smiling, then heads up the driveway of the house next door, hands in his pockets. 

Evan watches him go, knowing it’s rude to stare. 

So weird. 

So fucking weird. 

Today has been so, so fucking weird. 

* * *

Connor isn’t listening to his father, who is droning on about responsibility and structure and all of the stuff he’d already lectured Connor about when he first came home for the summer. But Connor’s not listening. Instead he’s preoccupied because recently he’s noticed his right eye has been twitching, and some late night internet research tells him he’s probably got cancer or Tourettes or maybe he’s just overly tired. Point is, he doesn’t know why his eye is twitching, but it keeps twitching, irritating, while his dad carries on about Connor needs to “keep it together” this school year and not fuck up like last year. And the year before that. 

“What are you looking at?” Zoe asks, her face screwed up into an ugly scowl. Connor hates her new hair. She bleached it blonde in the past few weeks, and now there’s chunky blue streaks in it. She thinks it makes her look cool. Connor thinks it makes her look like some kind of colorblind zebra. Especially considering the slightly orange fake tan she’s been rocking the past couple of weeks. 

That one especially makes no sense to Connor. They live, like, a mile from the beach. Why doesn’t she just, like, go outside?

“Nothing,” Connor mumbles, turning his eyes back to his plate. He’s been pushing around some organic flax and tofu thing his mom made for a good twenty minutes now, and he just can’t make himself take a bite. He knows it’ll be rubbery and bad and (by now) cold. He knows she’s getting upset that nobody is taking her new commitment to veganism seriously (she keeps sighing dramatically) and he knows that a good son would power through a few bites, but he just fucking can’t. It’s like his jaw is wired shut, like his gag reflex has been dialed all the way up. 

“Well,” his dad says, as if Zoe and Connor haven’t been talking at all, “I spoke with your guidance counselor and hopefully there won’t be any _problems_ this year.”

Guidance counselor. Right. That’s gonna make any difference. 

Connor’s mom looks sadly at him, not eating his… whatever this unidentifiable food is. “Just,” she says, her voice already heavy with white wine, “Can you try not to get expelled this time?”

Connor bites the inside of his cheek. 

She says that like it’s happened multiple times, not just the once. Like he’s been bounced around to every boarding school on the east coast like Spencer, who started Hanover a month after Connor when he got kicked out of his other school for threatening to knife a teacher. 

Like he actually said “knife.” 

Miguel had cracked up when he heard that story, laughing so hard he blew smoke out of his nose and then coughed for a while, giggling and asking if Spencer thought he was in a production of _West Side Story._

Connor’s eye twitches again. 

He’s not supposed to be thinking about Miguel. He’s promised himself that he’s going to put that whole thing behind him. 

But his eye twitches some more. 

His mom gets up suddenly, yanking his plate away, muttering to herself about how nobody appreciates her efforts. She’s already drunk most of a bottle of Pinot Grigio. Fantastic. In four hours or four more glasses time, his mom will probably knock on Connor’s door and try to get him to talk to her. She’s done it every couple of weeks since he got home. Give him some sob story about how much she missed him last year, as if he’d forget that she barely remembered to call. And when she did call she mostly wanted to talk about David, who was his mom’s high school sweetheart and Connor’s godfather, who died unexpectedly last year. She’ll probably just want to talk about that. No thanks. 

Zoe rolls her eyes and gets up from the table too, already on her phone, sighing and huffing about how her family is so embarrassing. 

And it’s just Connor and his dad. 

Connor picks at his nail polish and tries to stop his eye from twitching, but that only seems to make the twitches more noticeable. 

“Look,” his dad says, his voice… softer. Larry Murphy’s TV dad voice. The one he never busts out in front of other people, not even in front of his mom. His t-ball voice. The one he used when everyone but Connor got invited to the various bar and bat mitzvahs his classmates were having and Connor had come home from middle school with a lump in his throat the size of Texas. His “hey champ, wanna talk about it” voice. 

The voice that always makes Connor’s throat close up, makes his jaw clamp tight, because _no dad, I really don’t wanna talk about it_. 

“I know you had a hard time freshman year -”

Connor snorts. An understatement. A huge one. Hard time didn’t quite cover the magnitude of that shit show. 

“But it’s the best school in the area -”

“I know,” he mumbles. “Whatever. It’s fine.” Connor doesn’t have the energy to fight this anymore. When he first got home, he protested. He raged. He smashed his old skateboard. Swore and cried and punched a hole in his wall because he was not going back there he was not going back. 

But Connor’s too tired to fight this anymore. He’s going back to his old school. That's that. No point expending energy on it anymore. He’ll just sit here and stew silently and refuse to speak to his family once he graduates. 

“But if you need to, like, blow off steam or talk to someone -”

“Thanks,” Connor says because if his dad keeps going, Connor will break. His dad does that to him somehow. He pisses Connor off like no other. Reduces Connor to his whiniest, saddest place. Something about his disappointed-yet-concerned face opens a crater inside Connor that takes forever to climb out of. 

When he was in the hospital, Connor refused to see his dad at first. Everyone assumed it was because Larry was some kind of Extra Special Asshole. Really, Connor just didn’t want his dad to know how fucked up he really was, and in the psych ward he had no defenses against Larry’s “hey buddy, you wanna… shoot some hoops?” voice. 

And Connor quit basketball freshman year anyway. He’s not _good_. He’s just tall. And he and his dad haven’t played since, like, middle school.

“You sister has that charity thing tomorrow,” his dad presses on, still using his Mike Brady voice. “We’re all going. As a family.”

Connor can think of a million other things he would rather do “as a family.” Like drink Kool-Aid laced with cyanide. Or fill their pockets with rocks and go for a swim. Drive his mom’s Benz over a cliff. Play catch with a live grenade.

Fuck, no wonder everyone always thinks he’s nuts. Normal people don’t casually think about how to murder-suicide their whole families. 

Probably. 

Connor doesn’t know how normal people do anything. 

“So you should put out your suit so Blanca can press it.”

Connor presses his lips together. His mom doesn’t work but they have a maid. He doesn’t understand it. His family is so bullshit sometimes. And he knows how stupid it is, being pissed off about being wealthy, but sometimes he thinks about the stuff his parents and sister do and just gets, like, _overwhelmingly_ pissed off. Like. Frustrated as hell. Sure. Blanca needs a job, and firing her just because Connor was morally against the idea of paying someone to wash your socks wouldn’t be fair, but with the money the Murphys paid her to do stuff most people did for themselves, they could, Connor didn’t know, like, build a fucking school in Guatemala or whatever. 

M would give him hell about his family and their money and their domestic workers. Told Connor it was sickening that he had grown up with “servants” and Connor felt crushingly guilty because yeah, actually, he had totally grown up with servants. Blanca the housekeeper. Rufus the gardener. When Connor was little, he used to play with Rufus’s daughter Sara. Even when he was little, Connor knew his family was like stupid loaded. If Sara liked a toy, Connor would just give it to her. Rufus would try to protest and return them, but Connor’s mom would say they had too many toys anyway and it was fine. His dad used to say he had a “philanthropic mind.” 

But Miguel didn’t give a shit about that. “You can’t just, like, give away your shit and think it erases your privilege.” 

M had a point but it isn’t like Connor can help the family he was born into. One time, high and frustrated and sad, he’d griped to Miguel, “Jesus Christ I didn’t _ask_ to be born.”

And then M had pressed Connor to tell him about freshman year, and Connor had shut off the light and climbed into his own bunk and stared at the wall until dawn. Clammed up. Refused to talk. Like his jaw was wired shut. 

_“Some people have real problems, you know.”_

But it is pretty bullshit that his family hires people to clean up after them. He can own that. Connor admits that openly. He’s never wanted for anything. There’s always someone to clean up his messes. Literally and figuratively. He’s privileged and he knows it. 

But it doesn’t mean he likes it. 

Besides, at Hanover, he had to iron his own shit. 

Not that he _did_. 

But still. 

Connor thinks wistfully back to his dorm. He didn’t miss being home last year. Not at all. 

“Can I go?” Connor asks, his eye twitching again, trying not to sound whiny or whatever. He knows if he whines to his dad, he’ll get a lecture. But he needs to get up from this table before his eye twitches out of his head. He needs to get up before his dad tries to give him some big speech about being a bigger person or, worse, about how people have forgotten all about the end of ninth grade and worrying about it is pointless. 

He knows it’s pointless. Worrying has never stopped anything bad from happening before. 

But his eye twitches. And he worries. And he really needs to leave this table. 

“Yeah, alright. Don’t stay out all night, okay?”

Connor had thought, when he came home for being expelled for drug possession, that his parents were going to be hard asses. Ground him until college. Search his room daily. Bars on his windows, real Harry Potter shit. 

Turns out his dad really genuinely doesn’t care as long as Connor’s not fucking around publicly. When he got off the plane in May, his dad just told him he was a dumbass for getting caught and not to do it again. He gave Connor a lecture to end all lectures in front of his mom and Zoe, but in private he was a lot less pissed. Just told Connor he was too smart to be this stupid.

Connor heads up to his room to grab the book he’s been reading. Well, more like rereading. The reading list for his AP Language class has them starting the semester with _The Scarlet Letter,_ and Connor wants to get that reread out of the way before he has to deal with the Neanderthals he goes to school with starting next week. He doesn’t especially love Hawthorne, but he also doesn’t super relish the idea of trying to wade through an unnecessary amount of Purtitanical symbolism while some asshole like Brian Harris makes jerk off motions in the back of the class. 

There’s only so much a guy can take. 

And going back to school there is probably already pushing it. 

He wonders if his mom would notice him sneaking out to go get a burger. Ironically, before his mom’s conversion to veganism, Connor had been a vegetarian for three years. Now that his mom is off meat and dairy, all Connor wants is a cheeseburger from In-N-Out. Maybe a milkshake. 

Maybe he’s just hungry. 

Zoe passes him on the stairs. She’s wearing a shirt that doesn’t cover her navel, and Connor realizes with a start that she’s got a belly button piercing. 

He cannot believe his parents allowed that. 

Jesus they are dropping the ball lately. 

“Where are you going?” Zoe asks, narrowing her eyes. 

Connor doesn’t answer her. He just flips her off. He can’t stand the sight of her lately. It’s like she was replaced with some kind of vapid, airhead pod person while he was away at boarding school. He left here with a nerdy band geek sister with braces and a truly unfortunate blunt bob and came back in June to… whatever this was. Materialistic, shallow, self obsessed… 

Also like she’s grown boobs which was just. Not a thing Connor is prepared to handle as an older brother. Because now he knows that people - that _guys_ \- look at her and that’s fucked up because she’s, like, a baby. A toddler. Last week she had baby fat and a chocolate ice cream mustache. Now she looks like… a real teenage girl. The TV kind. When he was doing laundry last week (okay, putting away laundry, because Blanca had been the one to actually wash and fold it) he found a thong of hers accidentally shoved in the leg of his jeans. And that’s like. Wrong on so many levels (like why would you want a constant wedgie, exactly, and how was _that_ supposed to be sexy? And why the fuck is Zoe wearing one?). And like Connor knows that it’s some patriarchal bullshit that he even feels like that but like. He can’t just turn it off. And he knows that the guys around here are pricks of the highest order so. He doesn’t want them panting after his little sister. Even if she’s kind of bitchy these days. 

Is it stupid to feel kind of protective of his dumbass little sister while also sort of hating her? Absolutely. But his shrink back east was always like “sometimes emotions don’t make sense, Connor” and while at the time Connor had been sort of like “yeah okay whatever,” he’s trying to consider that now since he is t-3 days away from returning to High School Hell. 

Whatever. 

Connor puts in his earbuds and turns on his iPod. Picks out a mix he made himself. Heads to the front porch only to find himself thinking that he doesn’t much feel like slogging through Hawthorne tonight. He ditches his book on the swing his parents’ installed when he was still little and heads down to the mouth of the driveway, considering what to do with himself. His fingers twitch along with his eye. He wants a cigarette. Hasn’t had one since he was thrown out of Hanover. They took his fake I.D. too, so Connor hasn’t been able to buy more smokes. Bullshit, if you ask him. It’s his body. If he wants lung cancer, isn’t it his right as a red blooded American? 

The voice that sounds a lot like Miguel in his head tells him that he sounds like a Republican. 

Fuck his head. 

Fuck Miguel. Whenever Connor calls him it goes to voicemail. He’s not thinking about M anymore. Fuck Miguel. 

He really wants a cigarette though. 

And, as if the universe has heard Connor’s plea, he smells cigarette smoke wafting toward him. Connor blinks. 

A boy, maybe his age, is standing at the mouth of his next door neighbor’s driveway. Smoking. Connor’s never seen him before, and he’s instantly intrigued. Dark blond hair. Broad shoulders, hunched a little. A huge yellowing bruise on his cheek, just under his eye. Clothes that are a little bit wrinkled, like they’ve been slept in, but Connor can’t focus on that because this guy is. 

Gorgeous. 

Like genuinely gorgeous. 

And smoking. 

_I want a pony,_ Connor thinks stupidly, wondering if the universe is in a wish granting mood. 

No pony materializes. Rude. 

Still. Hot guy with a cigarette. He’ll take it. 

He should know better, Connor thinks. He always makes an idiot of himself in front of cute boys. He takes his earbuds out. Winds them around his iPod. 

“Hey.”

The guy blinks, like he’s surprised to be addressed. He eyes Connor, something cautious about his stance, his gaze. “Hey?”

Connor’s idiot tendencies kick in harder. “Who are you?” 

No preamble, no “have I seen you around” or “forgive me I am socially inept and spent the whole summer as a hermit after a year away” or “I don’t think we’ve met.” Just: “Who are you?”

The guy, the kid, whatever, looks at Connor as if he’s asked an extremely difficult question. Maybe he has. He’s stupid like that around attractive boys. “Nobody,” The guy says after a moment. He looks away. 

And… Were Connor smart, that would be that. Rejected by the attractive boy who clearly doesn’t want to talk, he should just go for a walk or retreat into the house or maybe wander over to the overpass halfway to the beach and launch himself into traffic. 

Instead, he keeps talking. 

“Hey,” Connor says, again, even though he _just_ said hey, the ringing desire for nicotine propelling him to speech. The guy looks at him. “Can I bum a smoke?” Connor asks. 

The guy almost quirks a little half smile. Almost. He nods once, approaching Connor, still with that sort of guarded look on his face. He pulls a cigarette out of a pack he produces from his hoodie. Holds it out to Connor. 

Connor takes it. Then, realizing his mistake, fumbles through his pockets for a lighter he knows he doesn’t have on him. 

The guy looks at him. Takes pity on him, maybe. He takes a drag and Connor can’t help himself; he watches the rise and fall of the guy’s chest, he drinks in the image of the smoke escaping his lips. “Here.” He extends his cigarette out to Connor, holding the lit end up. Connor smiles slightly. Leans in and presses the tip of his unlit cigarette to the cherry of the lit one. Inhales deeply.

“Thanks,” Connor says, exhaling. The guy is watching him with this sort of guarded expression and Connor glances self consciously down at his clothes. He knows that a uniform of black and grey isn’t exactly the fashion sense of the rest of his obnoxious SoCal peers, but it’s what makes him most comfortable. 

And this shirt is clean. 

He thinks. 

He focuses on the whites of his Chucks, slightly pigeon toed. This kid probably thinks he’s a freak. He’s certainly acting like one. Probably he’s already heard all about Quitter Murphy, knows everything wrong with Connor, is laughing at him internally. 

Connor doesn’t remember his mom saying anything about Heidi next door moving but. It’s unlikely she just like. Produced a teenager suddenly. Must be a new neighbor. Probably goes to Connor’s old… goes to Connor’s school. He’s probably heard all the shit people talk about him. He’s probably just bumming him a smoke to fuck with Connor. 

Connor takes another drag, thinking he should probably just fuck off. 

But something keeps him here. Something about the way this kid is holding himself, something about his guarded expression and his posture and the cigarette hanging from his lips that has Connor utterly captivated. He wants to _talk_ to this guy. 

And Connor never wants to talk to people so. 

That’s probably a sign or something. 

“So…” Connor says, taking another drag. “What happened to your face?”

The guy’s aforementioned face clouds over. He looks, just for a second, a blip, sad, then angry, then it all frosts over again. Connor mentally kicks himself. He’s such a fucking _asshole_ sometimes. He tries to make it better. “I mean. Are you alright? That’s like a nasty bruise?” 

The guy looks at Connor then and his head tilts a little like a puppy trying to work out a new sound it just heard. It is unbelievably cute. “I-I fell out of a tree. Actually.”

Connor laughs awkwardly. He’s not expecting that. He half thinks this guy is fucking with him. But the dude’s face stays the same, neutral, head slightly tilted. “You fell out of a tree?” Connor repeats. “That’s the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard oh my god.”

The guy gives him a pained looking smile. 

“You should come up with a better story,” Connor goes on because apparently he can’t help himself he can’t fucking _shut up already_. “Say you punched a racist or something.”

The guy laughs. It’s a weird kind of choked sound, like he’s trying _not_ to laugh. Like maybe he doesn’t normally laugh. He doesn’t look as pissed anymore. The corner of his mouth is turned up in a small smile. 

Connor feels like that’s a victory maybe. Like somehow he’s earned this laugh. 

“Maybe I saved a kid. From a-a fire or something.”

Connor laughs. “That’s a good one too.” He considers. “Wrestled a gun out of the hands of a madman?”

The guy laughs. “Took down a mugger?”

“Escaped a cult?”

The guy laughs again. “P-punched by a kangaroo?”

Connor smiles hard. “Hit in the face by a paparazzo camera.” He exhales smoke. “Since you’re super famous in, like, England.”

“Smacked my head on the dash of a car I stole trying to outrun the cops?” the guy says, taking a final drag on his cigarette, his cheeks hollowing, and then dropping it to the ground. 

Connor laughs even harder at that one. “Good one,” he says with a grin. He takes one last drag on his cigarette. Drops his butt to the ground and stubs it out. “I’m Connor. By the way.” He holds his hand out for a shake. 

The guy hesitates. Then he takes Connor’s hand and shakes it briefly. Connor notices a red mark encircling his wrist, almost like the ones Connor gets when he’s first stretching out a new hair tie. “Evan,” the guy says. _Evan_. 

Good name. 

Great name. 

Fuck he’s cute. He’s giving Connor this wide eyed look, like he doesn’t know what to make of Connor, and that’s relatable, that’s such a fucking familiar feeling because Connor doesn’t know what to make of himself most days. 

“Thanks for the cigarette,” Connor says. 

“Yeah,” Evan says back. 

Connor figures he should head back inside before he says anything else stupid or embarrassing. He gives Evan a nod. Waves him off. Heads back toward the house, smiling like a moron. 

_Evan._

Good name. 

Great name. 

Fuck he’s cute. Connor is such an idiot. 

At least his eye isn’t twitching anymore. 

Fuck. He’s stupid. 

_Evan._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from “Camisado” by Panic! at the Disco  
> Chapter title from "In Fate's Hands" by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus.


	3. Hey You, Who Are Ýou Kidding?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heidi takes Evan shopping. Evan meets the girl next door.

At about three in the morning, Heidi Herzberg wakes up in a cold sweat and realizes that she has a charity fashion show to go to that night. A charity fashion show that’s raising money for a local women’s shelter, like it does every year, like it has every year since Heidi showed up in Newport. 

Given the fact that there’s a sixteen-year-old staying with her who was in jail the night before, Heidi thinks she’d be justified in just… skipping it. Except that this is Newport, and these WASPs take attending fancy charity events as seriously as going to temple. 

That, and last year’s charity fashion show took place about two weeks after Heidi’s husband David had a fatal heart attack at work, right in front of her. And since David Henderson was such a ‘pillar of the community’, last year’s fashion show had involved a donation being made in his honor. Which makes no fucking sense to Heidi, seeing as David had no interest at all in fashion, but… whatever. 

For some reason, Cynthia Murphy seems insistent that the donation in David’s name be an annual tradition. So tonight, Heidi has to get up in front of a room full of people she still can’t decide whether she actually tolerates and ‘say a few words’ about her late husband and how much he loved this community. 

There’s a sixteen-year-old kid from Chino in one of her spare rooms. 

Fucking hell. 

She’s going to have to bring Evan to this event. 

Isn’t she?

She could leave him at home by himself. He’s sixteen, not six. 

But…

The kid did steal a car. 

It would be completely, totally irresponsible of her to leave a sixteen-year-old she barely knows who she met because he stole a car in her house alone. 

Who knows what would happen? 

Heidi runs her hand through her sweaty hair and tries to calm herself down. Evan’s a good kid. She feels that in her gut. He wouldn’t be in her house if she didn’t trust him on some level. 

And if he does burn the place down, she’s got excellent insurance. 

David would be heartbroken if this place burned down. He loved this house, for whatever reason. He didn’t grow up in it or anything, he just… weirdly loved it. He always said it was exactly the kind of house he’d dreamed about living in when he was a little boy. 

Heidi didn’t dream about houses when she was a kid. 

She didn’t even dream about being a lawyer, really. For a while, she was genuinely convinced her mission in life was to follow The Sex Pistols around the world. 

Fuck, she misses David. 

She misses David so damn much. Misses talking to him and laughing with him and the stupid vintage tux he always wore to these functions and how he’d always make sure he was wearing the most ridiculous boxers underneath to make Heidi laugh. 

_ “Nothing quite like schmoozing with high society when I know I’m wearing Batman underwear,” _ Heidi remembers him saying. 

Tonight, Heidi has to get on a stage in front of hundreds of people and talk about how David was a pillar of the community and how he is sorely missed. 

A pillar of the  _ fucking  _ community. 

A community full of drunk rich idiots who like to congratulate themselves on giving a fraction of their wealth to whatever cause they deem worthy, who like to act like they’re morally superior and are reaching out a hand to those in need while they cut corners for profits and lay off workers to save their bottom line. 

Heidi’s no better. 

She used to defend people like that. 

So did David. 

Fuck, she misses David. She doesn’t know how to do this without him. How to navigate this place without him. But she’ll be damned if she doesn’t give it her best shot, because it was important to him, all of this bullshit was important to him and she’s not about to go running off with her tail between her legs. 

She’s not going anywhere. She’s keeping her husband’s memory alive. 

She misses David. 

She’s so tired. 

Heidi should ask Rosa if she picked up that green cocktail dress she wore the last time she and David went to one of these functions together from the dry cleaners. Maybe wearing that would make her feel better. 

Maybe it would make her feel worse. 

She doesn’t know. She genuinely doesn’t know. 

Evan’s going to need a suit. 

And shoes. 

And…

Fuck. 

Heidi has no idea what he’s going to need. 

No idea what teenage boys wear to these events. She’s never paid attention. 

The only teenage boy she knows is Connor Murphy. She must have seen him in a suit at least once, right? She’s lived next door since he was a baby and they’re always at these fancy events. 

Heidi remembers when Connor was seven and Zoe was six and Cynthia had hosted some kind of function at the Murphy household and paraded the kids around like life-sized dolls, making sure that everyone got a good look at these kids in formalwear for no good reason. 

Connor had been upset about something at school. There’d been a rumor that he’d thrown a printer, which Heidi still thinks has to be bullshit. He was always a slight kid, until he hit about twelve and then just kind of got taller and taller like someone was stretching him out on a rack. There’s no way he’d have been able to throw a printer at a teacher. 

He’d talked to David about it before he talked to his mom. 

David had adored Connor. 

The last Heidi heard, Connor was off east at boarding school, anyway. They sent him off around this time last year, she remembers. Something had happened involving too much partying and too many pills but Heidi hadn’t really been paying attention because she was too preoccupied with the fact that her husband dropped dead in front of her. 

Right in front of her. 

Fucking hell, she still sees it every time she closes her eyes. 

How he’d stopped. How his eyes had glazed over. How he’d fallen to the floor. 

She remembers it in fragments most of the time, but sometimes it’s a video that loops over and over in her head. 

She misses him so much. 

So fucking much. 

If he were here now, he’d know what to do about this whole Evan situation. He’d figure it out, he’d…

Heidi won’t lie to herself. David would have insisted they look after Evan. 

Insisted they take him in, keep him safe. 

He always wanted kids.

It just… hadn’t happened. 

David had definitely been more into the idea of kids than Heidi, but Heidi has to admit that kids with David would have been nice. 

But dealing with this sudden loss would have been so much harder if they’d had kids. 

She’s so tired. 

She misses David so much. 

Heidi lays down and tries to sleep, to no avail.

Through a gap in the curtains, she can see that the morning is breaking. 

* * *

Evan wakes up and immediately feels his heart start to go haywire because he has no fucking clue where he is. 

It takes at least a full minute for him to piece it all together and when he does, he’s still not sure he’s not dreaming because it’s all… 

Completely insane. 

Completely fucking insane. 

These are the most goddamn fancy sheets he has ever seen in his life. It’s completely and utterly insane. 

What the fuck. 

What the fuck was he thinking? What the fuck is he doing here? 

He’s going to ruin this. He’s going to fuck things up for this nice lawyer with the dead husband, make her life even harder, and that’s not fair, it’s not fucking fair on her, fuck fuck fuck fuck. 

He really needs the bathroom. Where the fuck is the bathroom?

Evan stands up. Sees there’s a door in the corner of the way too big room. Goes over to it tentatively and sees that yeah, it’s a bathroom. A private bathroom attached to the bedroom.

An ensuite bathroom. Not that he’s ever fucking seen one before, only read about them in books. Seen them in TV shows. What the fuck. 

What the fuck. 

Once he’s peed, he washes his hands and finds himself looking at his reflection in the mirror above the sink. 

Fuck. 

He looks like shit. 

Evan doesn’t like to look at his reflection, so he tries to avoid it as much as possible. It’s not exactly hard to do, given that the bathroom mirror in Mark and Elaine’s crappy apartment is broken. 

Funny, how fast he’s thinking of it as Mark and Elaine’s apartment. 

They kicked him out. 

The thought is like a rock in his stomach. 

They kicked him out. He’s sixteen years old and Ethan got him arrested, Ethan was the one who made the stupid decisions, Evan was just there for the ride and somehow it’s all his fault. 

He’s sixteen. 

He’s sixteen and he’s technically homeless. 

Technically homeless and looking at his reflection in a mirror that looks like it’s got fucking gold plating around the edges.

Fucking hell. 

His reflection looks tired. Paler than he should be. There are dark circles around his eyes and the bruise on his face looks even worse in this light. 

He thinks back to the guy he met last night. 

Connor. 

Connor had asked him what happened to his face and he’d lied, because of course he’d lied, Evan’s always lying, the truth is way too fucking depressing and it’s easier to lie. 

Except for the part where he was honest. 

Where the truth slipped out, even though he didn’t really mean for it to, and even though Connor seemed to think it was a joke, it’s still weird that Evan told the fucking truth, was honest with this guy he’d just met. 

So fucking weird. 

It’s just…

He’d seemed familiar, somehow. 

Not in a ‘we’ve met before’ kind of way, but… 

Something else. 

Something Evan can’t quite pinpoint. 

He goes back into the main part of the bedroom and changes into the only other pair of jeans he owns. They’re falling apart and far too big on him because they used to be Ethan’s but he can’t bring himself to wear the other pair another day, they’re kind of gross after everything and at least this falling apart pair is clean. Puts on a grey t-shirt and a hoodie then just… sits on the bed. 

Tries to listen for any sound of movement. 

He’s not sure what he’s supposed to do. 

Not sure where he’s allowed to go. 

He’s considering sneaking out to have a morning smoke when there’s a tentative knock on the door. 

“Evan? It’s Heidi. Can I come in?”

Evan blinks. He’s not used to people asking that. Mark and Elaine just come in whenever the hell they want. 

“Sure,” he answers, resisting the urge to remind her that this is her house, she can do whatever the fuck she wants. 

Ms. Herzberg’s got her hair in a messy bun and she smiles at him, this soft smile that eases the tension in Evan’s shoulders the tiniest amount. 

“How are you holding up?” she asks, sounding like she genuinely cares. “I know the last few days must have been a lot for you.”

Evan shrugs. He’s not sure what to say. “Thank you,” he manages to choke out finally. “For letting me crash here. I can go if you want me to.”

Ms. Herzberg shakes her head. She looks… a little nervous, all of a sudden. “I want you to stay,” she says. “It’s just that I have to go to this thing tonight and… I’d rather you weren’t alone, so you’re going to have to come with me, sorry.”

Evan can read between the lines there. 

She’d rather he weren’t alone in her house. 

Which makes sense, because she doesn’t fucking know him and they met in fucking  _ jail.  _

“What’s the thing?” he asks, because he really has no idea. 

Ms. Herzberg looks a little guilty. “It’s a, uh, charity fashion show? So it’s… you’ll need a suit.” 

Evan blinks. 

What. 

What?

“What?” he asks stupidly. 

“We’ll have to go shopping,” she says, something determined creeping into her voice. “Get you something to wear.”

Evan swallows. “I don’t have-”

“I’ll pay,” she interrupts. 

Evan shakes his head. “No. No, you can’t-”

“You’ll need a suit for the hearing,” Ms. Herzberg interrupts. “So we may as well get one now, right?”

Evan feels his shoulders tense. “I…”

Ms. Herzberg goes to sit down next to him on the edge of the bed, her eyes soft and gentle. “Look,” she says, her voice soft, too. “The school year is starting soon, and until we can sort things out with your dad, I think it’s best if you stay here with me.”

There’s something weird and numb going through Evan’s body. 

This is…

What. 

What is happening, what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck. 

“We’ll get you into the local high school. The principal there is a friend of Dav…” she trails off, then steadies her shoulders. “He was friends with my late husband. I’ll call in a favor and we’ll get you enrolled.” She fixes him with a look. “Which means you’ll need clothes.”

“I have clothes,” Evan offers weakly, but Ms. Herzberg just shakes her head. 

“Not clothes that will let you fit in around here,” she says, her voice soft but certain. “So we’ll need to do some shopping for you today.”

Evan feels his shoulders tense even more. “I… I don’t know anything about clothes, I… I can’t afford them right now, I-”

“I’ve got this,” interrupts Ms. Herzberg. She gestures to the room, rolling her eyes a little. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not exactly strapped for cash.”

Every muscle in his body feels like a too-tight spring. “I can’t… no, I can’t, Ms. Herzberg, it’s so kind of you to-to let me stay b-b-but I can go home, I can… I can stay with friends, I can…”

His voice dies out. 

He can’t get the lie out properly. 

Ms. Herzberg looks so sad. 

“When you called me,” she says, her voice so gentle, “you said you didn’t have anyone else you could call.”

Evan feels his face crumble, his cheeks flood with color, and he looks at his feet, because he’s so fucking embarrassed, so fucking pathetic.

She’s right. 

He has no one. 

There are no friends for him to stay with at home. 

“Evan,” says Ms. Herzberg gently. “I need to know you’re safe, yeah? You’re sixteen. You deserve to be safe. Just… give this a shot, yeah? Stay with me for a while. You might like it here.”

He sincerely doubts it, but honestly? 

What are his other options here? 

He finally brings himself to look at Ms. Herzberg, who has this thoughtful expression on her face. “The Murphys live next door,” she says. “They have a kid around your age.” 

Evan’s about to tell her that he met Connor from next door but realizes just in time that he probably shouldn’t admit he snuck out to smoke last night. “Yeah?” he says instead. 

“Zoe’s going to be at this fashion show tonight,” Ms. Herzberg continues, and Evan’s momentarily confused. He definitely met a kid named Connor last night and he thought he lived next door. 

Must be the neighbor on the other side. 

“Okay,” Evan says, for lack of anything else to contribute. 

“She’s a nice girl,” Ms. Herzberg continues. “Maybe she can introduce you to some of her friends, that could be cool?”

Evan is under no illusions. It will most certainly not be cool, because he is not cool, and he will no doubt make a fool of himself, or punch someone. 

Probably both. 

“Come on,” says Ms. Herzberg, standing up. “Let’s get you some breakfast, yeah?”

Evan nods. Dutifully follows her out of the room, down the stairs and through some kind of foyer to a huge kitchen that looks like it’s barely been touched. 

Something tells him that Ms. Herzberg isn’t much of a cook. 

“What do you usually have for breakfast?” Ms. Herzberg asks, and Evan feels his shoulders tense again, because he genuinely can’t remember the last time he had breakfast. Ms. Herzberg looks at him, her eyes sad, then seems to take pity on him. “I usually make a smoothie with banana and berries. How does that sound?”

“Great,” says Evan, even though he doesn’t think he’s ever had a smoothie in his life. 

Ms. Herzberg smiles. Tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Thank you,” Evan says suddenly, feeling for a moment like he’s going to cry. “You… thank you, Ms. Herzberg.”

Her smile wilts a little. “You can call me Heidi,” she says, her voice so gentle. “I think we’re on a first name basis now, yeah?”

Evan doesn’t know what he thinks. He just nods in agreement. 

Tries to smile. Tries not to cry. 

“Wanna go sit in the living room?” Ms. Herzberg says. 

Heidi. 

Heidi, right. 

“Uh, okay,” says Evan, nodding and heading out of the kitchen and through the doors to the living room that he still thinks is too huge. He sits on a sofa for all of a second, then stands up immediately, feeling like he’s done something wrong. 

Stands there for a while. 

He can hear the blender going from the kitchen. 

After a while, he hears footsteps, so actually sits down, not wanting to make Heidi think he was an idiot for just standing around. He looks over to see she’s standing there holding two glasses. She smiles and hands him one, then sits on the sofa next to him. 

“When I’m done with this, I’ll shower,” says Heidi. “And we can go.”

Evan blinks. “Go?”

“Shopping,” says Heidi patiently. “We need to get you some clothes.” She hesitates for a moment. “Zoe’s going to come with us.”

Evan blinks again. “Zoe?”

“From next door. I mentioned her earlier.”

“Right, of course, yeah, Zoe,” Evan says, too quickly. He tries not to frown, tries not to make it obvious that the idea of meeting a girl his age is completely fucking overwhelming, completely insane, especially when he’s wearing jeans with massive holes in them and he has a bruise on his face what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck. 

They both drink their smoothies in silence. It doesn’t exactly take long. 

Evan guesses that when you’re a lawyer, a breakfast you can consume quickly makes sense. Lawyers are busy people. 

“Okay,” says Heidi when she finishes her smoothie. “I’m going to go shower. Zoe will be here in about… twenty minutes, shit.”

With that, she hurries out of the room, leaving Evan alone to just kind of… absorb everything that’s just happened. 

What the fuck. 

His lawyer wants him to call her by her first name and buy him clothes and enroll him in a local school, which is no doubt a fancy as fuck school because this place is insane. She’s going to call in a favor from the principal, holy  _ shit. _

She must really pity him.

He must seem really fucking pathetic if she’s going to all this effort, fuck. 

Evan must have zoned out because all of a sudden, he hears the doorbell ring and Heidi’s voice calling out from upstairs. 

“Would you mind grabbing that please?”

Fuck. 

Fuck, what the fuck. 

Evan walks to the front door of this way too fucking huge house and with shaking hands, opens the door. 

Standing at the doorstep is a girl about his age. She doesn’t look like any girl Evan’s ever seen before. 

The girl has straight blonde hair with blue streaks through it, falling over tanned shoulders. She’s got high cheekbones and big expressive eyes, outlined with something dark he assumes is eyeshadow. Her lips are coated with something shiny and she smells like strawberries and she’s wearing these shorts that show her hip bones and a shirt that doesn’t cover her stomach, showing off an expanse of skin that looks… really soft. 

He’s never seen anything like it. 

He’s trying not to stare, but from the look on her face, he’s failing miserably. 

Fuck, he’s such a fucking disaster. 

“Hi,” says the girl, smiling at him. Her teeth are shiny and white and perfect. “I’m Zoe. Heidi called me? You’re Evan, right?”

Evan tries to answer, but gets as far as opening his mouth and just kind of… fucking short circuits. _Get it together,_ _asshole,_ the voice in his head jeers. Finally, he makes it. 

“Evan,” he manages to say. “Yes that’s... Evan, I’m Evan. Sorry.”

“Cool,” Zoe says, in this tone that makes him sure that it absolutely isn’t.

Fuck. 

That was too loud, it was definitely too loud, was it too loud? She must think he’s completely insane what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck. 

Zoe just looks at him, something impatient in her expression. “Can I come inside or…?”

Fuck. 

Evan takes a step backward, because he’s totally blocking the way into the house, what the fuck, what is wrong with him. He feels his face burning. “S-sorry.”

Zoe walks in, confidence in her stride, like she’s been here a million times before. If she lives next door, then maybe she has. She kicks off her flip flops next to the door, then looks at Evan with this calculated, intense look, like she’s trying to figure him out. 

Like she’s trying to read his mind, extract all his secrets just by looking at him. 

Fuck. 

Fuck.

What does he do, what is he supposed to do, what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck. 

“You’re Heidi’s nephew from Seattle, right?” says Zoe. 

Some of the tension leaves his shoulders. He can almost breathe. 

“Yeah,” he says, feeling his face relax a little. “Seattle.” 

Zoe nods. Frowns a little. “So why are we going shopping?”

Evan has no idea what to say. No fucking idea what the fuck what the actual fuck. 

He shrugs. 

“I need clothes,” he says, then immediately regrets because what the fuck what kind of answer is that holy fuck. 

Mercifully, Zoe nods. “Let me guess,” she says, something friendly in her tone. “The airline lost your bag?”

Oh thank fuck. 

“Yeah,” Evan agrees, nodding. “All of my clothes, basically,” he adds, remembering Heidi’s words about how he needed to get clothes for school. 

School he will be attending.

Soon. 

With other human beings. 

What the fuck. 

The girl stands there, still looking at him, and Evan can’t resist the urge to apologize. “I’m sorry,” he says. “You probably have better things to do with your day than go shopping, but I… I’m sorry.”

Zoe doesn’t look mad. She just shakes her head like this happens all the time. “Typical,” she says, something sympathetic in her voice. “Happened to my dad last year on a trip out to Tulsa for work?” She lowers her voice conspiratorially. “He had to buy new clothes at a  _ Walmart _ .”

Evan wants to laugh at that, because he’s pretty sure everything he’s wearing is indeed from Walmart. Instead, he feigns a horrified expression. “Oh god.”

It seems to work, because Zoe laughs a little. “I know, right?”

She’s got a nice laugh, Evan thinks. 

Fuck, she’s pretty. 

Really, really pretty. 

“So are you a… sophomore?” Zoe asks him, because she’s a human being who knows how to make conversation.

“Junior,” Evan replies, not quite able to drag his eyes away from her. “Sorry.”

Zoe rolls her eyes. “You don't have to keep saying that.”

_ Of course you fucking do,  _ the voice in his head reminds him.  _ You should be constantly apologizing for the fact that you fucking exist, you waste of fucking oxygen. _

“Okay,” he says instead, trying to smile. 

Zoe smiles back, this small subtle smile that Evan thinks is just… perfect. “You want to say it again, don’t you?”

“Very much so, yes,” Evan blurts out without meaning to. 

Zoe’s smile gets even bigger, and something inside Evan lifts a little. 

“You’re weird,” she says. 

Whatever just lifted inside him comes crashing back down. “I know.”

“Hey Zoe!” Heidi calls out. Evan turns to see her nearly jogging down the stairs, putting on a pair of earrings. She grins at Zoe. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” says Zoe, smiling again. She shoots a look at Evan. “I was just getting to know your nephew.”

Heidi immediately turns to Evan. Looks right at him. For a moment, he’s convinced she’s going to tell him to get the fuck out of her house. 

Fuck. 

What was he thinking, fuck, why the fuck would he lie what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck. 

Instead of yelling at him like he knows he deserves, Heidi just smiles. “Right,” she says. She doesn’t stop looking at him. “Ready?” she asks. 

_ Not even a little bit,  _ Evan thinks to himself. 

He nods. 

* * *

Zoe runs the flat iron over a piece of her hair again. She has a weird bump that always forms in the back, a rogue wave that doesn’t match the rest of her head, and she wants to tame it. 

Her hair is sort of controlled chaos right now, but she likes the blue. It makes her look cool. Older, a little. Molly at the country club says she looks kind of punk, but Zoe likes that. She’s gotten good at makeup now too, so good that Logan, who just graduated, asked her for her number last week. He’s eighteen and drives a mustang and wants  _ her  _ number. 

Zoe didn’t actually give it to him. She’s not stupid. She knows what he wants and she knows that flirting is fun and all but he’s too old for her. It’s one thing that she made out with Brad Marcus. It’s a different thing entirely to like. Give her number to an older guy. 

If she were Angela, her parents would flip out about her being at a party with an eighteen year old who wanted her number. Then again, if she were Ange, they wouldn’t have even gone to the party because Angela’s parents are total helicopters. She isn’t allowed to do anything fun. Zoe doesn’t really hang around with her anymore for precisely this reason. It’s a real drag to get all dressed up to go out and then get stuck going solo because your friend’s mom wants to talk to the parents of every party so you end up skipping it. 

Zoe’s parents, meanwhile, are clueless. Totally preoccupied with Connor and all his shit. Zoe isn’t even mad about it anymore. It’s just how life is. Connor screws up, their parents freak, and Zoe stands around waiting for them to notice that she’s still there. 

They don’t always notice. 

It’s how she got away with the belly button piercing. And the hair. 

And the time she came home from Molly’s graduation party still drunk with her friend Madison in tow. 

She’s not, like, getting caught snorting coke or stealing pills so they look the other way. She’s not going psycho or getting kicked out of school, so she can do whatever she wants. 

But right now all she wants is to get her fucking hair straight. 

She hears the phone trilling downstairs. When he first got home, Connor jumped every time the phone rang and then lurked around whoever answered, like he was waiting for someone to call him. 

Like anybody would ever call him. 

She doesn’t hate her brother, but Zoe doesn’t really like him either. They used to get along, like, fine she guesses. They weren’t like best friends, but they were fine. Sometimes they’d hang out. They knew each other’s friends. 

Yeah. Connor used to have friends. 

But now he’s just… Zoe doesn’t even care to try to get into it. She avoids him. It’s like he has no sense of how to be a person and she’s not about to risk her place in the school hierarchy trying to teach him. He’s her older brother; he’s supposed to look out for her not the other way around. 

Speak of the devil. Connor’s voice rings out from the living room. “Zoe, phone!”

Part of her wants to be catty, ignore him or shout “who is it” and make him bring the wireless phone up to her, but part of her also remembers how he liked to pound on her door and tell her he’d kill her when she was in eighth grade so it’s probably not worth the risk. She gets up. Shuts off her flat iron. Meets Connor halfway down the steps, like he is bringing the phone up to her. 

He probably isn’t. 

“Who is it?” she mouths at him. 

He shrugs. 

God, he’s so annoying. 

Zoe rolls her eyes and puts the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

“Hi, Zoe, it’s Heidi. How are you?”

Heidi’s been around since, like, Zoe was in diapers she thinks. Heidi and her husband David have been the Murphys’ next door neighbors for Zoe’s whole life. Until David died last year. Now it’s just Heidi. 

She’s nice. Always bought like a billion Girl Scout Cookies and gave money for fundraisers, came over for the holidays and whatever. She recently quit her nice cushy job at Zoe’s dad’s law firm to be a public defender, which Zoe thinks is kinda stupid really. Why give up a nice job for a job full of lost causes?

In all of the time they’ve been neighbors, Zoe can’t think of one where Heidi’s called her. 

“I’m fine Heidi,” Zoe says. “How are you?”

“Good, I’m great,” Heidi says. Zoe can hear a blender in the background. Heidi sounds distracted as she says, “I’m great.”

Zoe waits to hear what the call is about. 

It takes a minute for Heidi to come out with it. “You’re doing that charity fashion thing tonight, right?”

“Uh-huh,” Zoe says because she had collected Heidi’s donation last week. “Why?”

“Oh I… I have kind of a weird favor to ask you.”

God, she better not be pulling her money out or Zoe will scream. That happened to Marcie last year and she moved to New Hampshire. Zoe suspects the two are linked. 

“Okay…” Zoe said, drawing it out. 

“Would you mind coming shopping with me?”

“What? I mean…. I mean  _ why _ .”

Heidi sounds stressed or… guilty when she answers. “Well, it’s for Evan, not for me.”

“Who?” Zoe asks because, like, who the fuck is Evan?

“He’s coming tonight and he’s got nothing to wear,” Heidi says, not answering the question. “And you’re about the same age and he keeps telling me he doesn’t know anything about clothes and, well, you’re doing this fashion show and he might actually, like, listen to a cute girl about clothes -”

Zoe resists the urge to just hang up. This sounds boring beyond belief, dragging some bored and pimply kid she’s never even met around a mall.

But she does need to go to the mall. 

And it would probably make her mom happy if she hung out with David’s widow. Her mom’s been moping around since, like, last summer and trying to get in Heidi’s business. 

“Yeah, okay. I have to be at the event by five to get in hair and makeup -”

“We can go in like thirty minutes? We’ll swing by Starbucks?”

“Okay,” Zoe says, because she could use the Good Girl bonus points. “I’ll head over soon. I just gotta tell my mom.”

“Thanks so much Zoe, I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Zoe says, hanging up. 

This is what she gets for being nice. Fucking hell. 

She brings the phone back to the kitchen and checks her makeup in the mirror that hangs outside of the dining room. Fixes a smudge under her eye. 

Her mom’s nowhere to be seen, of course. She’s not out back by the pool, not in the living room, not in the room that used to be the craft room and then the pilates studio and then a meditation space but now is just full of old clothes that her mom keeps forgetting to donate. “Mom?” Zoe calls out, irritated. 

No answer. 

Zoe heads upstairs to the bedrooms, calling again, “MOM?” 

Connor’s coming out of his room. He’s still wearing yesterday’s clothes. He looks like an idiot, Zoe thinks, in those skinny black jeans and his hair all stringy and long. She’d thought he was trying for a punk or emo thing with the painted nails when he first came home from boarding school, but he doesn’t wear, like, eyeliner or do anything with his hair, so Zoe dismisses it as just Connor being fucking weird as usual. He’s got his skateboard tucked under his arm. 

Must be a new one. He smashed the old one. 

“You seen mom?” Zoe asks him now, already annoyed because he’s just gonna shrug and walk away. 

“She said she had a headache and was taking a nap,” Connor says, his voice low. 

_ Headache. _

Right. 

More like, she drank two bottles of wine on her own last night. “Christ, get it together Cynthia,” Zoe mumbles. 

Connor shoots her a look. 

“Look, tell her I went shopping okay?”

“Tell her yourself,” Connor says, heading down the stairs. 

It was so much easier being an only child last year, Zoe thinks. She heads to her parents’ room and knocks softly. When there’s no answer after a minute, Zoe opens the door and steps inside.

The shades are drawn so it’s almost pitch black. Zoe can hear her mom breathing slowly. She strides to her parents’ California King where her mom is curled up in a ball in the middle. 

“Mom,” Zoe says impatiently. 

No response. 

Zoe sighs. Kicks her flip flops off and climbs up into the bed and prods her mom’s shoulder. “Mom.”

“Hmmm?”

“I’m going to the mall.”

“The mall?” her mom sighs. Turns over. She has lines on one side of her face from the pillow. Her eyes are bloodshot. She rests her hand on the side of Zoe’s face. Her face looks so sad. Her mom used to be so smiley. “You’re so pretty Zoe,” she says, her voice gravelly. She runs her hand through Zoe’s hair. “But I don’t know why you’d do that to your hair.”

Zoe frowns. Typical. Connor can grow his hair to his butt and never wash it and nobody says a word, but Zoe puts some blue in hers and it’s the end of the damn world. “I’m going to the mall.”

“You need money?” her mom asks. 

“Sure.”

“My purse is on the dresser.”

“Thanks.”

“You have to be at the venue by five.”

“I will be,” Zoe says, kissing her mom’s cheek. “Bye.”

Zoe climbs down from the bed. Puts her flip flops back on. Takes two fifties out of her mom’s wallet. She grabs her cellphone on her way out of the house, tucking it into her new purse. Gucci. A gift from her dad. 

She heads outside, putting on her sunglasses and walking down the driveway to the sidewalk. Zoe sees Connor at the end of their cul-du-sac on his skateboard. He has his headphones in and no helmet on. She thinks for a second he’s going to get himself hit by a car. She thinks for a second that might be good. 

Whatever. 

Connor does a kind of half assed ollie and Zoe rolls her eyes and heads up the driveway at Heidi’s house. She strides up to the front door and rings the bell. Inside, she hears what sounds like Heidi’s voice saying, “Would you mind grabbing that please?”

The door opens. 

It’s not Rosa, who Zoe expects. 

It’s a boy. 

He’s got dirty blond hair and some truly sad looking jeans on, distressed but not designer, and his eyes go big at the sight of her. She can’t immediately decide if he’s cute. He’s not the pimply disaster she had imagined, but something about him seems a bit rough around the edges. Like he could use some sprucing up. And he’s got a huge bruise on his cheek, which will be the talk of the event tonight if he shows up looking like that. 

She sees why Heidi called her.

“Hi,” Zoe says, trying to force her face into a smile. “I’m Zoe. Heidi called me? You’re Evan, right?”

His mouth opens but nothing comes out at first. When it does it’s slightly too loud for the doorway. “Evan. Yes that’s... Evan, I’m Evan. Sorry.”

Maybe he’s like… disabled or something. Or a total spastic wreck. Why the hell did she agree to this, exactly? “Cool,” Zoe says. He keeps standing there, blocking the door, looking at her. “Can I come inside or…?”

His cheeks go pink and he steps back to let her inside. “S-sorry.”

Zoe strides into Heidi’s familiar house and kicks off her flip flops. She turns to give this Evan kid an assessing look, trying to figure out who the hell he is. She definitely hasn’t seen him around. 

Heidi’s brother lives in Seattle, Zoe remembers, and with Heidi’s nephew. It clicks. She tries to be polite, because like, really, there’s no reason not to be. “You’re Heidi’s nephew from Seattle, right?”

Evan’s face shifts into a small smile. “Yeah. Seattle.” 

“So why are we going shopping?”

Evan shrugs. “I need clothes.”

“Let me guess,” Zoe says, nodding. “The airline lost your bag?”

“Yeah,” Evan says, nodding. “All of my clothes, basically.” He flinches. “I’m sorry. You probably have better things to do with your day than go shopping, but I… I’m sorry.”

Zoe shakes her head in disgust. “Typical. Happened to my dad last year on a trip out to Tulsa for work? He had to buy new clothes at a  _ Walmart _ .”

“Oh god,” Evan says, screwing up his face in horror. 

“I know right?” Zoe says, laughing a little. He’s not so bad, she decides. He’s watching her a little too closely, but Zoe’s kind of gotten used to that since she actually figured out how to dress. He’s trying not to be obvious, but he is absolutely checking her out. She knew these shorts were a good call. 

...He is cute, Zoe decides. Officially. Just needs some better clothes. 

“So are you a… sophomore?” Zoe asks him. 

“Junior,” Evan says softly, still sort of watching her closely. “Sorry.”

“You don't have to keep saying that..”

Evan stares, like he has no idea what to say to her now. “Okay,” He says, giving a painful looking smile.

Zoe smiles a little at him. “You want to say it again, don’t you?”

“Very much so, yes,” Evan says. 

Zoe smiles bigger. Okay so that’s, like, kind of adorable. In a dorky way. “You’re weird.”

His smile sort of withers. “I know.”

“Hey Zoe!” Heidi calls from the top of the stairs. She’s in jeans and a cute top, fixing an earring. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” she says, putting on her biggest smile-for-the-adults smile. “I was just getting to know your nephew.”

Heidi gives Evan a look. Then she smiles. “Right.” She looks at Evan. “Ready?”

He nods. Zoe follows them out to the garage. Heidi chats with Zoe about the fashion show and Evan nods along from the passenger seat. 

“What did you guys want to drink?” Heidi asks, pulling off the main road and into Starbucks. 

Zoe asks for a venti iced skinny vanilla latte. Heidi glances at Evan. 

“Coffee?” he says tentatively. Then he clears his throat. “Iced coffee?” He looks a bit panicked. 

“Don’t they have, like, a thousand coffee places in Seattle?” Zoe says, confused. 

Evan shrugs, sighs. “Uh… I dunno. What Zoe’s having?” He looks at Heidi, looking a little desperate. 

Zoe wrinkles her nose at him. “Watching your waistline?” she jokes. 

His cheeks go red. 

“You know Zoe,” Heidi says in her I’m-a-reasonable-adult-voice, “The chemicals in sugar free syrup are probably worse for you than regular old sugar.”

She knows. It’s her mom’s thing lately too. She’d lose her shit if she heard Zoe was ordering a drink with dairy milk. Worse than chemicals. “I know,” Zoe says, shrugging, “But the chemicals mean I can be seen in a two piece bathing suit so.”

Heidi clicks her tongue but doesn’t comment. In the rearview mirror, Zoe can see that Evan’s cheeks are still faintly pink. 

They drive around to pick up their drinks. Zoe drinks hers happily, texting back a few folks about the show tonight and asking Evan questions about Seattle to be polite. Basic shit, like about the weather (“Wet.”) and the culture (“Weird?”) and if he had ever seen a whale before since Zoe always liked whales (“Once or twice.”). 

They didn’t immediately head to the mall, though, because Evan needs something to wear tonight. The store they go to is the same place Zoe’s mom had taken Connor and their dad over the summer since Connor had outgrown his old stuff and their dad had just won a big case. Zoe tagged along because Connor had only been home a week and so their mom was dragging them all out to dinner after. 

It was super boring. 

But the place did make nice suits, Zoe thinks. And apparently so does Heidi. 

Evan looks extremely uncomfortable as Heidi starts talking to the salesman about what he’ll be needing. Evan, meanwhile, is looking anxiously at the sleeve of a sportcoat on a rack. 

“Oh, definitely not that color,” Zoe says to him. It’s a dark maroonish red. Definitely not suitable for a party at the end of August. 

He looks at her, his brows knitting together. 

Zoe smiles a little. “That’s very autumn? You know? It’s still summer, you want to dress… summery.” 

“Yeah, totally, that m-makes sense.”

Zoe grins, then looks at the salesman who is pulling out a tape measure and looking thoughtful. “I think blue would be good, don’t you?”

The salesman grins brightly. When he speaks, he has a slight lisp. “Oh girl, you are right,” he says, pointing at Zoe like she’s said something brilliant. “Come on over here, young man, let’s get you measured and find something blue so you can impress li’l miss thing over here.” He rushes Evan off toward the dressing area, and he looks back at Heidi, like he doesn’t want her to abandon him with the salesman. 

“I better make sure…” Heidi says softly, following after them. 

Isn’t the whole reason Zoe’s here because Heidi wants her help?

Whatever. 

The store is pretty dead since it’s the middle of the day, so Zoe starts pulling out some of the blue and navy options she likes while Evan gets measured. She wanders over to them as Evan is holding out his arm for a measurement. “What are you doing about shoes?” She asks Heidi and Evan. 

Evan looks at Heidi. 

“We’ll need to get some. Belt and tie too.” 

The salesman looks confused.   
“Airline lost his bags and we have an event tonight.” 

“Oh god,” he says, sounding upset on Evan’s behalf. “Well don’t worry honey, we’ll get you out of here looking so hot, don’t you worry.”

Evan looks a little queasy at the prospect. 

They settle on a navy blue suit. A crisp linen shirt, a new pair of black oxfords, a matching belt, and a tie with stripes of royal blue through it. When the whole outfit is put together, Evan looks like a totally different person. He looks put together. Hot. He grimaces in the mirror and after a few moments Zoe realizes he’s trying to smile. 

Some boys are fucking useless around girls. 

Since Heidi knows this store well, they agree to rush a few small alterations for Evan before this evening’s event so his pants will be properly hemmed and his jacket sleeves won’t be too long. He looks a little shell shocked at the price tag. 

Maybe things are a lot cheaper in Seattle. 

After that, they head to the mall. They immediately head into Abercrombie so Evan can get some jeans. Evan’s sticking close to Heidi in the store, not saying a whole lot, just accepting any clothes that Zoe or Heidi might hand to him. As the pair of them start heading toward the dressing rooms, Heidi’s phone rings. 

“Oh shit, this is work,” she says apologetically. She looks at Zoe and Evan critically. “You two keep shopping and meet me up front when you’re done, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” Zoe says. 

Evan’s eyes follow her out of the store. 

“Heidi’s your aunt on your dad’s side, right?”

“Oh. Uh. Mhmm,” Evan says. 

“Cool,” Zoe responds. She shoos Evan into a dressing room. “Go try those on.”

He looks at her all wide eyed and flustered looking. 

“Dude, come on, have you never been shopping before? Go try them on, see if they fit!” 

Evan nods again and heads into a fitting room. Zoe meanwhile pokes around the nearby racks of dresses and tops, thinking she could use something to wear to school next week. 

A few minutes pass. A few more. Zoe frowns at the dressing room Evan went into and knocks on it. “Did you, like, die?”

“No?” his voice returns. “Sorry?”

“You’re supposed to, like, come show me the clothes.” 

There’s a sigh behind the door. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, man, come on. That’s literally why I’m here.”

Another sigh. He steps out of the dressing room. 

Honestly, with a little hair gel, he’d fit right in at Zoe’s school. He looks… good. The jeans fit him well, they don’t hang off of his hips like the pair he was wearing. She’d grabbed him a blue polo and it makes his shoulders look broader and his arms look nice. He looks good. 

“Oh yeah, this works,” she says, reaching out and straightening his collar. 

“I don’t really, like, wear polos…?”

Zoe wrinkles her nose. “You should. You look nice.” She grins and turns him back into the dressing room. “Fashion show!” 

To her surprise, he laughs. “Okay, okay.”

She convinces him to try on five more outfits for her, modeling various pairs of jeans and shirts. He looks nice in cool tones, Zoe decides, so they find him some more blues and greens and even one that’s violet. Anything she gives him, Evan dutifully tries on. And everytime he steps out of the dressing room, he looks anxiously toward the entrance where Heidi is on the phone still. 

“My dad’s a lawyer too,” Zoe offers suddenly. “She’ll be a while.”

They eventually conclude Evan’s got enough clothes from this store picked out. Zoe decides to try on a few things herself, like a white ruffled mini skirt and a few new tanks. She also finds an adorable tie-up halter top, and, glancing at herself in the mirror, considers her next move. 

Evan’s cute. 

In a sort of harmless, adorable way. 

He seems to like her. 

She shrugs. Pokes her head out of the dressing room. “Hey, Evan.”

He looks at her, eyes big. Huge. 

“Can you help me real quick?”

He steps closer to the dressing room. His cheeks go dark pink at the sight of Zoe holding the straps of the shirt up. “Sorry, I… Wh-What did you...?”

“Help me tie this?” Zoe asks, grinning. 

“Tie your… tie your shirt?”

“Yeah. My hair keeps getting in the way” 

He swallows so hard she can actually hear it. Zoe pulls her hair to the side and Evan takes the straps of the halter and gently ties them together. His fingers brush against the back of her neck and she can tell his hands are shaking. 

Zoe… really likes that, actually. 

It’s a nice change of pace for a boy to be nervous around her. 

“What do you think?” she asks. 

“What?” he says breathlessly. 

“Of the shirt?” Zoe asks, smiling. 

“O-oh,” Evan says, his face pinker now. “It’s… good. Nice color. Uh. Yeah.” 

Zoe frowns. “But does it look cute?”

Evan looks like he wants to sink into the floor. “Yeah,” he says, his voice sort of ragged. “It does.” 

“Great. Thanks Evan.” She pauses. She knows her bright blue underwear are totally visible through the skirt. “Can you see my panties through this?” Zoe asks, trying to see if she can make him blush more. 

She can, it seems. 

“No I… I don’t see anything.”

She giggles. “Checking my ass out?”

He looks mortified in the mirror. “No! God s-sorry. Fuck. No, s-s-sorry I wasn’t…”

“You apologize a lot,” she says. 

“S- No. I mean. I-I know.”

Zoe turns around to face him. “So. What happened there?” she asks, pointing to the bruise on his cheek. 

Evan looks so embarrassed. “Oh. Uh. That. I… It happened in Seattle,” he says awkwardly. “It’s actually, like, super embarrassing, I… My neighbor’s cat climbed the tree in their yard and got too scared to come down?”

Zoe stares. “Shut up.”

“No, s-seriously, and I decided I’d go and-and help? So I climb up this tree and… and I get the cat and I start climbing down when she starts, like, meowing. Totally losing it. And she, like scratched me and I lost my grip and I fell.”

“You fell out of a tree, saving a cat?” Zoe repeats skeptically. His eyes go huge and he looks down at the ground. “Are you like a boy scout or something?”

He gives her an awkward smile. “I was, sure, but not since I was, like, seven.”

Zoe rolls her eyes. “Such a do-gooder,” she says affectionately. “I’ve got some make up in my bag. Let me change and I’ll cover it up for you.”

“You don’t have -”

He stops short because Zoe unties the halter top and pulls it off. 

His face is so red it’s pushing toward purple. “I’ll just -” he says fast, leaving the dressing room in a rush. 

Zoe laughs quietly to herself. It’s almost too easy with nice boys like this. She sort of loves it. 

She changes out of her clothes and finds Evan standing outside, eyes focused on the floor. “Here,” Zoe says, directing him toward one of the benches outside the changing rooms. Evan sits and Zoe goes into her purse to find her powder and concealer. “I’ll just fix you up now so you don’t have to worry about all the Newport moms getting nosey.” She grins. “Or have to tell that story again. You really ought to come up with something better.”

He laughs, this awkward stilted thing. 

Zoe scoots closer, inspecting the bruise. It’s big, but it looks like it’s healing already. It’s yellow around the edges. “Come here,” she instructs, and Evan scoots slightly closer. Lowers his face. 

She does her best to be gentle, dapping some concealer over the area and using her ring finger to blend. Up close, she can see that Evan’s got a smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose and under his eyes. It’s cute. Makes him look younger. She thinks she can imagine how he might have looked as a little kid. “I like your freckles,” she says, her voice lower as she works.

“My… freckles?” he repeats. 

“Yeah. They’re cute.”

Zoe blends the makeup out and then gently pats some powder on her work. She blows softly to get the excess powder off. “Okay, you’re set.” She hands Evan the small compact from her purse. 

He inspects his face. 

It’s not perfect but he looks loads less like he got into a street brawl. 

“Thanks,” Evan says, his voice quiet. Softer. Lower. She decides she likes it like this. 

“You’re welcome,” Zoe says, smiling at him. “Now all people will look at tonight is how well you rock that suit.”

Evan gives her this super shy smile. 

He’s cute, she’s decided. She likes this shy cute boy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "Slow Down" by The Academy Is...


	4. If Money Is Such A Problem, You Got So Many Problems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newport Beach's annual charity fashion show is thrilling as ever. Evan is a fish out of water.

Connor’s pathetic and he knows it. 

He rode his skateboard around outside for like an hour this morning, but Evan never appeared from Heidi’s house. Old house?

Connor’s starting to think he imagined the whole thing. 

It’s so fucking sad too. He’s not even that good at skating. He was, in ninth grade, but last year he mostly gave it up because Miguel thought it was stupid. 

“Where are you going to skateboard in this place? It’s all trees.”

He had a point, of course. That was the thing that always annoys Connor about M. Even when he’s being a dick, he tends to be right. And he never lets Connor get away with anything. 

...Never let Connor get away with anything. They don’t talk anymore. 

Whatever. 

After an hour of practice, Connor feels a little less rusty. He manages a kickflip finally but there’s nobody around to see. 

Whatever. 

He heads back inside and chats with Blanca a little while she irons his dad’s suit for tonight. Blanca will always talk to him, though Connor suspects she doesn’t actually like him very much. She always acts like he might be spying for his parents or something. But even if he did catch her screwing around, Connor would never tell. He likes her. He knows she needs this job. 

“School next week,” she says to him, smoothing out his dad’s suit’s pant leg. “Junior this year?”

Connor nods. “I don’t want to go,” he says. “It’s just gonna be the same as it was before I left.” He considers the ironing Blanca is doing. “Maybe I should drop out and get my GED.” 

Blanca’s smile changes into a frown so fast that Connor half thinks she has been frowning the whole time. “Education is important.”

“Yeah but -”

“Education is important,” she stresses again. “Mr. Larry and Ms. Cynthia work hard for you to get a good education.”

Connor bites back the urge to ask Blanca what, in her opinion, his mom is working so hard at doing. No point. 

If anyone is the spy, Connor thinks, it’s definitely Blanca. She’s on the payroll. Connor just lives here. 

He retreats to the kitchen, thinking he’ll get a snack, but when he goes through the cabinets, nothing looks appetizing at all. He’s been bad about it again, actually eating, but the thought of trying to force down some chalky vegan protein bar or a pot of soy yogurt turns his stomach. Besides, he’s not really that hungry. 

He drinks a glass of water instead and deposits the glass into the sink, then heads upstairs. A mistake, he realizes too late, because it means his mom has heard him. “Connor, come in here,” he hears from his parents’ bedroom. 

Fuck. 

He sighs and walks into her bedroom. Everything in here is crisp and white or beige. Whenever he comes in here, Connor feels like that kid from the Peanuts, Pig Pen. Like he’s too filthy to be in this space and he’ll inevitably soil the expensive Egyptian Cotton or the plush beige carpet. 

“Hi mom,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest, as if keeping his arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times will keep him from dirtying up the immaculate scene. “What’s up?”

“You need to be ready to go by five,” she says. “Your sister has to arrive early for hair and makeup.”

Connor sighs. “Right,” he says shortly. 

“I bought you some things for school next week,” she says, pulling a big Hollister bag from inside of the walk-in closet. 

Connor bites his cheek. He has told her over and over he hates that shit. Most of his stuff is thrifted. Band shirts from Hot Topic. Off-brand jeans (some from the girls’ section, which his mom freaked out about when she realized the size 5 black skinny jeans weren’t Zoe’s).

“Go try it on,” his mom says. 

Connor blows air out through his nose. “Mom, I… I don’t like stuff from that store.”

“Connor,” She says, sounding frustrated. 

“Mom,” he says back, trying to sound reasonable. “I hate all of that… mass-produced mall crap. You know I won’t wear any of that.” 

“Well I don’t see why not.”

There are just… so many reasons. 

Like the way that all of the dudes in pictures and in the stores and on the bags and shit are these, like, ripped muscle guys with no shirts on. A clothing store which advertised with shirtless dudes. Fucking stupid. 

And Connor doesn’t look like those guys. He’s… scrawny. The opposite of those dudes. His chest is all weird and his stomach is just… soft. Not chiseled or toned, it’s just a sack of organs and it kind of grosses him out. Plus he’s all, like, pale and sharp looking. 

It’s easier if he just hides in dark colors and hoodies. 

“Can you just try the clothes Connor?” His mom sounds exasperated. 

“No,” he says, digging his toes into the carpet. “I won’t like them.” 

“Connor, honestly, you’re behaving like a child.”

Connor crosses his arms tighter over his chest. “I hate that stuff, mom. It looks stupid on me and I don’t like it. You should return it all.” 

“If you want this year to be better, you might actually try to be like the other kids.”

Connor tried that, he wants to remind her. He tried so hard he ended up in rehab because eventually, he learned that he liked drugs a lot more than he liked hanging out with people who did them. 

“Maybe if you just try to dress more…” she trails off. 

He waits, seething. 

“More, like, normal, people wouldn’t be so tempted to pick on you.”

Normal. 

The word bounces around his head angrily. 

“So it’s my fault?” Connor spits, his voice shaking and angry. “I just, what, make it easy for them? Thanks mom.”

“You know that’s not what I meant -” 

Connor leaves the room, his jaw clenching tightly, painfully. He’s so mad he’s afraid he’s going to burst into flames. 

Instead, he locks himself in his room, turning up the angriest playlist he has as loud as it can go, until the drumbeats and bassline shake the walls a little. Normal. _Normal_?

Fuck his mom. Fuck her. She doesn’t get it she never tries to get it she’s such a fucking bitch fuck. 

Connor throws himself onto his bed and yells into a pillow until his throat is raw. 

Somehow he falls asleep, even with the music blaring, even though he’s super pissed, because eventually he wakes up to his dad standing in the doorway with his hands over his ears, shouting for Connor to “turn this down, Connor, Jesus!”

Connor sits up and adjusts the dial on his stereo. “What?”

“Were you asleep?” his dad asks, sounding disbelieving. 

Connor shrugs. So he didn’t sleep the night before. Whatever. 

“You should go shower,” his dad says finally. “It’s almost four. We need to get ready to go soon.”

Connor wants to petulantly refuse to shower because getting naked is gross and there’s a full-length mirror in the hall bathroom so he can’t avoid looking at how gross his body is unless he shuts his eyes and showers like he’s blind. 

But he doesn’t have the energy. So he gets up and drags himself into the bathroom. He showers as fast as he can, like if he does it faster it’ll be less shitty. When he climbs out, he has no choice but to look at himself with a towel around his waist while he combs his hair and brushes his teeth. He keeps thinking about the time M pinched the roll of fat that hangs around his waist and laughed that he wasn’t as skinny as Miguel thought he’d be without a shirt on. 

Asshole. 

To appease his mother and not have her bitching about him showing up with wet hair, Connor borrows Zoe’s blow dryer. He doesn’t love what it does to his hair (too poofy), but it’s better than the bitchfest he’ll be in for otherwise. He puts the dyer away. 

Dumps his dirty clothes in the hamper and heads out of the bathroom to cross the hall to his room. Zoe’s got her door open, music playing, and she’s half-singing half-rapping along to some song he doesn’t know, the words all sound like nonsense, like he thinks he heard “Fergalicious” which is _not_ a word. 

But he lingers too long because his sister looks up at him and barks, “What?”

And he’s standing in a towel, staring at her. Fuck. 

“That song sucks,” he says after a second. 

“You’re such a fucking freak, Jesus,” Zoe says, getting up to slam her door. 

He wants to ask her where she went today. Last he saw, she was walking up the driveway to Heidi and David’s. 

Heidi’s. 

Well maybe not, since that Evan kid was there last night. 

But now is clearly not the time to ask probing questions about a cute boy Connor might have imagined. He goes into his room, turns his music back up a little to drown out the bastardization of English coming from Zoe’s room and turns his eyes to the suit he’s supposed to put on. 

He hates suits. 

At least at Hanover, like, he had a uniform but the blazer was optional. 

Ugh. Plus it’s hot today. At least ninety. He’s gonna sweat through his shirt immediately. 

Connor puts on extra deodorant and hopes he won’t reek too badly. Then he gets dressed. There are so many layers, and that at least he appreciates. He prefers putting more fabric between himself and the world. His parents have a pool but he hasn’t gone swimming in two years because the whole shirtless shorts thing is Not Okay with him. 

He knots his tie and stares at himself in the mirror for a second. 

God, he hates his nose? Like it’s just so big. It takes up his whole fucking face, he’s basically just a nose with arms and legs. 

And his hair is so fucking fluffy it looks ridiculous. He tries to flatten it a little, rubbing his hands over it but it hardly makes any difference. He looks fucking stupid. Like a giant nosed-caveman in a suit. Like George of the Jungle, but less hot. Way less hot. He’s George of the Jungle’s weird, reject cousin. 

He’s so stupid looking, there is nothing he likes about his face. Maybe he can, like, wear a bag over his head or something fuck. 

His eyes aren’t so bad. 

M likes them. 

_Liked_ them. 

Connor considers for a minute. 

Then he heads over to his dresser and pulls out the small bag of hidden shit from his dorm room that he stashes under his mattress. Nothing good really. A few ticket stubs he’s saved. A lighter M gave him. 

A black eyeliner pencil. 

Connor stares at it for a moment. Decides fuck it. His parents are gonna be pissed at him no matter what, so he might as well give them a focal point. 

He’s rusty. Hasn’t worn any eyeliner in months. It takes him a few tries to get the pencil to cooperate. It’s kinda messy, but he likes it. Connor uses one of his fingers to smudge it a little, resulting in a thick smudged line under his eyelids. It made his eyes look more vibrant. Fierce. 

His mom’s gonna be pissed. This is the opposite of normal. 

Connor walks out of his room and his dad sees him. 

“Jesus, Connor, go wash that off.”

“No,” he says, eyebrows up. 

“Connor, come on,” his dad says. “You’re mom’s gonna shit a brick.”

Connor shrugs. “She said put on a suit and tie and brush my hair. I did that.”

His dad sighs heavily. “Fine,” he says, shaking his head. “It’s your funeral.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “Zoe, come on, we gotta go.”

She pops out of her room, wearing some tight purple dress, her hair curled now. She looks at Connor and rolls her eyes. “Freak.”

“Bitch,” he responds. 

“Hey,” their dad says. “Watch your mouth Connor.”

He opens his mouth to respond, but then snaps his jaw shut. Grinds his teeth together. Fucking hell this is going to be a long night. 

They all get into the car, Zoe and Connor in back, not looking at each other. His mom does totally freak out when she sees the eyeliner and she keeps trying to force a makeup wipe in his hands that he refuses to take. His mom bitches the whole ride to the venue, and Zoe shoots dirty looks at Connor. 

Gonna be a long fucking night. 

* * *

The car ride back from the mall is… kind of excruciating, to be honest. Evan’s pretty sure he’s sweating through his shirt, he’s just this awful, disgusting ball of sweat. For some reason, Zoe’s decided to sit in the back of the car with him this time, even though he’s told her she can totally sit up the front with Heidi. She’s making conversation and trying to include him the best she can, but he’s not really following what’s going on. 

He’s too distracted by how completely insane this all is. 

And by how pretty Zoe is. 

He’s never seen a girl in real life who looks like this. She looks like she’s stepped off a television show or a music video. 

It’s kind of like… seeing some sort of exotic bird walking down a highway. 

Unexpected, but nice to look at. 

Really nice. 

She’s nice, too, mostly, even though Evan’s sure she’s _definitely_ fucking with him, definitely trying to see if she can get a reaction out of him. 

Taking off her top in the changing room, holy shit. He still isn’t sure he didn’t just, like, drop dead from embarrassment right there. 

He might be a ghost right now. 

He has no idea. 

This whole thing is just…

It’s too weird. Too fucking weird. 

Evan’s spent most of his life feeling out of place, feeling like he doesn’t belong, but _this_ \- this is a million times worse. It’s like the feeling he’s not supposed to be there has been playing on a stereo inside his head his entire life and someone’s just twisted the volume all the way up. 

When they get to the end of the street, Heidi stops the car and tells Zoe she can get out here. Zoe grabs her bags, then looks at Evan with this big, bright smile. 

It’s a really nice smile. 

Kind of feels… a little familiar, somehow. 

“I’ll see you tonight,” she says in this soft, low voice that makes his heart beat too fast in his chest. “Try not to rescue any kittens between now and then, okay?”

“I’ll try to restrain myself,” Evan replies immediately, and Zoe’s smile gets even bigger. 

“See you tonight,” she says, and gets out of the car, waving at the two of them before heading up the driveway next door. 

Evan thinks it’s the same driveway he saw Connor go up last night. 

Can’t be sure, though. It was dark and all these houses look the same. 

At this point, he’s starting to think maybe he imagined Connor. 

Wouldn’t be the first time he just… made something up in his head to make himself feel better. Evan had an imaginary friend for way longer than he’d ever admit to anyone. His only friend for the longest time. 

Fuck, that’s pathetic. 

Heidi drives up the driveway to the house. Parks her expensive car in front of the door, then turns her head and looks back at Evan. 

“So,” she says, her tone light in a way that makes Evan think she’s trying to be deliberately casual. “Nephew from Seattle?”

Evan shrugs. “Zoe thought that’s who I was,” he says as casually as he can. “And I figured it’s probably a better story than who I really am.” He tries to smile but fails miserably. “The fact I have a black eye is b-bad enough. I… I d-don’t want to make things worse for you.”

Something in Heidi’s expression is just… horribly sad. She takes a while to say anything, but when she does, her voice is soft and matter-of-fact. “We probably want to stick to that story, then,” she says. “Just for tonight. But eventually we’re going to have to tell people the truth, since you’re going to be staying here.”

“I can stick to a story,” Evan says immediately. “I’ll… I’ll go to the library and look up facts about Seattle, it’ll…” He feels his shoulders sag. “I can be whoever you want me to be.”

Heidi blinks rapidly. “You just be yourself,” she says after a moment. “Okay? You just be you.”

Evan nods, but he knows that’s not going to work. 

She doesn’t know him well enough to know that’s a terrible idea. 

And he doesn’t want her to see the worst of him. 

Heidi apologetically tells him it might take her a while to get ready and disappears, but not before making sure he has a towel so he can shower if he wants to. 

He definitely wants to, even though part of him feels like it won’t make that much of a difference anyway. That no matter how much he showers, he won’t ever be properly clean, won’t ever be clean enough to be wearing such nice clothes. 

It takes him a while to figure out how to use the shower but once he does, he finds himself taking way longer than he usually does, just because it’s nice and hot and the water pressure is good, better than anything he’s ever experienced before. The shower in Mark and Elaine’s apartment is small and cramped and the water that comes out is barely a trickle, but this shower is… fucking amazing. 

He washes his hair and his body, trying to make sure he gets everything as clean as possible. Evan doesn’t exactly love looking at his body, in all its weird, bruised, bony glory, but he doesn’t want to ruin these nice clothes Heidi’s bought for him, so he’s careful. 

There’s something almost cathartic about the shower. Like he’s rinsing off the remnants of his life back in Chino. 

Not that he can ever really do that. He knows that.

He knows that he can’t change the mess that he is. 

But he can hide it. 

Or at least he can try. 

It’s only when he’s out of the shower that he looks at his reflection in the mirror and realizes that whatever Zoe had put on his face has come off. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, he didn’t even think about that, fuck. 

Evan considers. 

He’ll have to ask Heidi, he realizes with a sinking feeling. It’s going to suck, but it’s better than showing up to this… whatever it is with a black eye. 

_“I’ll just fix you up now so you don’t have to worry about all the Newport moms getting nosey.”_

That’s what Zoe had said. 

Nosey Newport moms. 

Heidi doesn’t deserve people giving her shit because he smacked his face on a dashboard seconds before getting arrested, that’s not her fault. 

He owes it to her to try to be normal. 

To try to fit in here. 

Evan puts on the brand new underwear and brand new socks first, grateful beyond belief that Heidi had picked up underwear and socks while she was on the phone so he didn’t have to deal with Zoe seeing them. Then he puts on the suit pants and the shirt. Does up the buttons. Tucks the shirt into the pants, then puts on the belt. 

He doesn’t really know how to do this properly. 

But he kind of knows how it’s supposed to look. 

So he’ll just… look at himself in the mirror and go slowly, trying to get it looking right. Do the best that he can, make himself look… 

The way he’s supposed to look. 

The way he’d look if he _were_ Heidi’s nephew from Seattle. 

Nephew from Seattle. 

He can do this. 

“I’m staying with Aunt Heidi for a while,” he practices, his voice quiet so no one can hear him talking to himself. “Mom and Dad are in Europe. For… business.”

_“What kind of business?”_ he imagines someone asking him. 

He smoothes down his shirt and frowns, trying to figure it out. 

“Real estate,” he says to his reflection. That sounds about right. Real estate. 

Huge fucking McMansions like this one. Rich people in Seattle probably have them too. 

He’s not planning to get into lots of conversations, but he wants to be prepared. 

Real estate. 

“Mom and Dad are in Europe on business,” he says to his reflection as he fiddles with the buttons. “It was unexpected. Dad has to work, and Mom came with him because…” He thinks. “Shopping. She likes shopping.”

His mom never really liked shopping, Evan doesn’t think. 

He’s not really sure, to be honest. All his memories of his mom are blurry. 

Like someone’s gone through and smudged them with greasy fingers. 

He remembers her smile, sometimes. 

It never quite looked happy enough. 

Never quite seemed convincing. 

He doesn’t know if it’s that he’s not remembering it right or if that’s just how it was. 

After nine years, there’s no way to really be sure. 

Evan sits on the edge of the bed and puts on his shoes, doing up the laces carefully. Stands up and puts on the suit jacket carefully. 

Looks at his reflection in the mirror.

It doesn’t look like him, if you ignore the bruise on his face. 

The bruise is… definitely him. 

Definitely Evan Hansen, screwup supreme. 

He picks up the tie and looks at it. 

He has no idea how to tie a tie. He’s never done it. 

He’s never even worn a tie. 

No, wait. 

He wore a bowtie to his mother’s funeral, he remembers vaguely. His next door neighbor found it in her son’s things, along with this kid-sized suit that fit his seven-year-old self awkwardly and smelled weird. The bowtie was attached to something elastic. 

He remembers it being pulled over his head. 

The neighbor brushing his hair and putting something in it to keep the curls from going everywhere. 

He’d stayed with Lucia for about a week, right after his mom died. Evan remembers knocking on her door in tears, not knowing what else to do when he found his mom-

“No,” he tells the tie.

He’s not going to think about that right now. 

He blinks a few times, then straightens his shoulders. 

Looks at his reflection. 

He looks like someone else and that’s…

Probably a good thing. 

After a moment, he takes the tie and heads cautiously out of the room, then down the hall to knock on Heidi’s door. It takes a while, but she opens the door and smiles at him. 

Her hair is in a towel and she’s wearing this sparkly green dress and no shoes. It looks like she’s started on her makeup but hasn’t quite finished. 

“Sorry,” he says immediately. “I didn’t mean to bother you, I just… I don’t know how to tie a tie.”

Heidi nods. “That makes sense,” she says, smiling a little. “Stealing cars doesn’t exactly require formalwear.”

Evan blinks. He wasn’t expecting a joke about that.

Heidi looks immediately guilty and opens her mouth like she’s going to apologize. 

Evan gets there first. 

“Stealing a car is a pretty casual thing,” he says, trying to smile. “Bank heists are black tie.”

Heidi laughs. This genuine laugh that makes her look younger. 

Evan feels this spark of satisfaction in his chest, like it’s some sort of victory. 

“Also,” he says, sailing a little on the momentum of feeling kind of okay about something, “Zoe put s-something on my face to cover the bruise? But then I showered like an id-idiot so… would it be okay if you, like, did that again?”

Heidi nods. Her whole face softens. “Absolutely,” she says. She smiles a little. “Trying to keep a low profile, yeah?”

Something inside Evan clenches a little. “I just d-don’t want to fuck things up for you.” 

Heidi looks so fucking sad. Her smile twists. “Let me worry about that,” she says. She opens the door. “Come sit down,” she says. “Let me just quickly finish my eyeliner, then we’ll sort out that bruise, yeah?”

Evan nods. 

Sits down on the edge of Heidi’s bed. 

Tries not to stare like a freak as she puts on some more makeup. She’s got steady hands and looks like she knows what she’s doing, like she’s done this so many times that it’s second nature. 

It probably is. 

All too soon, she’s turning around and sitting next to him on the bed, armed with something that looks like what Zoe had in the mall but a little different. There are more colors, for one thing, and Heidi uses some kind of soft brush to put them on Evan’s face. 

It’s… weird. It still feels weird, but it’s less weird than it was with Zoe, because everything is less weird when it’s Heidi, which is…

Probably weird in and of itself. 

Fuck. 

He’s such a fucking disaster, fuck. 

“Basic color theory,” Heidi says, her tone conversational as she puts some yellow stuff on the brush. “Your bruise is purple, so I’ll put some yellow on it to counter it. Then a bit of green to counter the redness. Then we cover it up with some foundation, put on a bit of powder and setting spray and… there we go.”

She gestures for Evan to turn toward the mirror. 

He blinks. 

It’s… gone. 

His bruise is genuinely gone, it looks like it was never there. But it doesn’t look like he’s wearing makeup or anything, either. 

Looking at himself in the mirror feels like looking at a stranger. 

Who is this kid with the fancy suit and the not-visibly-busted-up face? 

Heidi’s nephew from Seattle. 

He’s Heidi’s nephew from Seattle. 

He can do this. 

He can do this.

“Thank you,” he says awkwardly. Heidi smiles, then stands up. Gestures for him to stand, too, then takes the tie and loops it around his neck. With quick, nimble fingers, she does some kind of knot and pulls the ends and all of a sudden, he’s wearing a tie. 

“Look at you,” Heidi says, something almost fond in her voice. “You clean up nicely, Evan.”

He blinks. Nods a little. 

“I, uh…” he starts, feeling his palms start to sweat, his hands start to twitch. “I thought I could tell people that my parents are in Europe? If they… if they ask.”

Heidi frowns a little. “Maybe just avoid questions the best you can,” she says after a moment. “The more you lie, the harder it’ll be when the truth comes out.”

Evan has no intention at all of the truth getting out. 

He just nods. 

Shrugs. 

Squares his shoulders and tries to act like he’s someone else. 

Someone who belongs in this suit. 

* * *

When Heidi pulls up to the front of the venue, Evan looks confused, and that confusion only grows when she takes off her seatbelt. 

“Are you... parking here?” Evan asks.

“There’s valet parking,” she replies, feeling completely stupid because this must look so damn weird to this poor kid. “I give my keys to the valet and he parks the car.”

“Really?” Evan blurts out, his cheeks going red like he wishes he hadn’t spoken at all. “I mean, sure. Okay.”

“It’s pretty common around here,” says Heidi apologetically. “Sorry, I’m sure it seems super weird.”

The corner of Evan’s mouth turns up into this slight smile. “Probably good I didn’t know about it before. Rich people just giving away their car keys.”

“I’ll get it back at the end of the night,” Heidi assures him. 

Evan smirks a little. “I figured.”

They get out of the car and Heidi hands her keys to Eric the valet, who she remembers from previous functions. David always made conversation with valets and wait staff. If Heidi remembers correctly, Eric’s saving up to go to law school. 

Part of her wants to ask how it’s going. 

The other part of her just hurts too much, thinking about how David used to always try to connect. It’s not something that comes as naturally to her. 

She misses David. She misses him so fucking much. 

Being here without him hurts. It’s like being stabbed in the chest, over and over, because everything reminds her of him. 

“Thank you,” she says to Eric, and pulls out a $50 bill to give to him as a tip. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Evan’s eyes widen. 

Eric thanks her, then gets in the driver’s side and drives away. 

Evan just stares for a moment. 

“It’s like you’re paying someone to steal your car,” Evan mutters, and Heidi can’t help but laugh a little. 

“Pretty much,” she says. She turns to Evan. “You ready?”

Evan puts his hands in his pockets for a moment, then pulls them out, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to do that. “Probably not,” he says, his expression overwhelmed. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Heidi promises. “We don’t have to stay long, I just… have to give a speech a bit later, but we can go right afterward. And the catering at this place is usually pretty good.”

“Okay,” says Evan, and he straightens his shoulders. Pulls them back and takes in a visible breath. It’s like he’s preparing for battle. 

Honestly, he’s not far off. 

Heidi nods to Evan and the two of them head inside. As they enter, she hears Evan take in a breath. She looks around to try to figure out what’s made him react. 

Probably the whole thing, let’s be honest. Damn, she’d forgotten how ridiculous these events are. This place is huge with high ceilings and huge windows, completely over the top with decorations, and they’re only in the entranceway. 

“Okay,” says Heidi quietly. “Before we go into the actual fashion show, there are drinks and canapes out on the porch. That’ll be… at least an hour, probably, then we’ll be going into the ballroom. They’ll serve dinner, then we’ll watch the show. I have to say a few words but... hopefully we can bow out before midnight.”

Evan stares at her for a moment. “Midnight?”

Heidi tries to smile. “The food is good, I swear.”

Evan looks like he’s about to complain, but instead he just kind of ducks his head and nods. “Okay,” he says. “That’s… okay.”

They head through the foyer and out toward the porch, where there are what feels like hundreds of people milling around, drinking champagne and eating hor d’oeuvres. From the looks of things, they’ve got that crab thing again. Heidi tries not to sigh. She tries to keep kosher the best she can but at these events, it’s never easy. There’s not a lot she’s actually supposed to eat but she doesn’t like to drink on an empty stomach, so usually she’ll bend the rules a little. 

As they arrive on the porch, a server comes toward them with a plate full of food. “Mushroom and leek crescent? Crab and brie filo?” 

Evan looks completely overwhelmed. “Uh....”

“They’re both delicious,” Heidi tells him in what she hopes is a reassuring tone. “Grab one of each if you like.”

Evan stares at the plate for a moment. “Which one’s the crab?” he asks after a moment. The server points at it, and Evan takes the other one. Heidi takes a crescent for herself and the server leaves. 

“Not into seafood?” Heidi asks. 

Evan hesitates for a moment. “Not really?” he says, something hesitant in his voice. “And I, uh… try not to eat meat and dairy together, because it’s not…”

“Not kosher?” says Heidi gently. Evan nods, his cheeks going pink, and something warm blossoms inside her chest. “I didn’t know you were Jewish.”

“My mom was Jewish,” Evan says, his voice so quiet. “I don’t… I’m not good at it? I don’t… none of my foster families were Jewish and my dad definitely isn’t, so I’m… I’m bad at it, but I try? And there’s a Jewish community center near my house and s-sometimes I talk with the rabbi, but I didn’t… I didn’t have a bar mitzvah or anything.” 

“It’s hard keeping kosher around here,” Heidi says, trying to be encouraging. “But this place is better than most.” She leans in conspiratorially. “When they ask you what you want for dinner, go for the chicken. Unless they’ve changed chefs in the last year, I have it under good authority there’s no dairy in it.” 

Something in Evan’s face lights up. “You’re Jewish?”

Heidi smiles. “Yeah. I’m Jewish.”

Evan’s cheeks go pink but he’s smiling, this small smile that looks real. “M-maybe you can tell me more about it,” he mumbles. “Like I said, I’m bad at it.”

“I’m happy to answer any questions,” Heidi assures him. “We can definitely talk about it.” She debates internally for a moment, then continues. “And honestly? Feeling like you’re bad at being Jewish is… pretty Jewish.”

Evan’s smile widens. “Yeah?”

Heidi grins. “Yeah.”

Evan’s got a nice smile, Heidi decides. When it’s actually real. When he’s not faking it. It makes him look younger, less like he’s got the entire weight of the world on his shoulders. 

A kid this young shouldn’t look this stressed, this tired. 

Heidi wants to help. 

She doesn’t know how, but she really, really wants to help. 

She’s about to suggest they grab a soda when there’s a hand on her arm. 

“Heidi, darling, it is so good to see you!” exclaims Jenny Kleinman. She’s in a too-tight dark blue dress and there’s something waxy in her features, which makes Heidi think that she must have had work done recently. “It’s been far too long. You barely come out anymore, we never see you.”

“The new job is keeping me busy,” she says, internally sighing because getting rid of Jenny Kleinman when she’s decided she wants to talk is nearly impossible. Jenny’s positioned herself so her back is to Evan, but she’s not tall enough to block him out totally. 

Heidi makes a decision. She looks Evan in the eye and subtly moves her head, hoping he’ll get the hint and make an escape. 

Evan’s eyes widen, then he nods. Bites his lip, then disappears into the crowd. 

“Well, things have been so dull without you and David and your unique perspective,” says Jenny. Heidi’s stomach churns at the casual mention of her late husband. “The two of you always brighten these things up.”

“Going to events without David isn’t quite the same,” Heidi finds herself saying, knowing her voice is coming out frostier than it should. 

“It’s so sad,” says Jenny in this exaggeratedly sympathetic tone. “But I want to hear about what you’ve been up to, Heidi. How have you been holding up? You know, the girls at book club and I were talking about you just the other day and you know what we said? We should call Heidi and invite her to join us. Poor thing, all alone in that huge house.”

“I don’t really have much time to read these days,” says Heidi, flagging down the server carrying champagne. She’s going to need it.

“It’s less about the books and more about the company,” says Jenny, waving her hand. “You’re a part of our community, Heidi, and we need to be looking out for you. Especially after all the unpleasantness last year with Cynthia. You know how close she and David were, how hard on her it was-”

“I’m well aware _my husband_ dying was hard on Cynthia,” Heidi finds herself interrupting, just as the server comes around with the champagne. She takes a flute, then continues. “And we’ve put all that behind us.”

Heidi takes a sip of champagne. Manages to stop herself from just downing the whole lot. 

She’s going to need something a lot stronger than champagne to get through this conversation. 

“People do such strange things when they’re grieving,” Jenny continues, with all the grace of a bull in a china shop. “You would know better than anyone, what with you quitting your job at the firm.” Jenny takes a flute of champagne of her own, then continues. “You know, Jerry still plays golf with Larry and Arthur and the other senior partners. I’m sure he’d be happy to put in a good word for you if you ever wanted to consider going back.”

“Thank you for thinking of me,” Heidi replies, resisting the urge to throw this glass of champagne in this woman’s face. “But I’m very happy with my new career path. I’m finding it very rewarding.”

Jenny smiles this condescending smile that makes Heidi envisage breaking the stem of the champagne flute and stabbing her in the eye with it. “I’m sure you are, Heidi. I’m sure you are.”

* * *

Zoe takes off the second they reach the venue, their mom shouting after her to “Please put your hair up!” Zoe ignores her and their mom turns to their dad and mutters, “Can’t believe she did that to her hair.”

“She’s fifteen,” their dad says easily, like being fifteen is an easy excuse. 

“She’ll be sixteen in a month.” She crosses her arms. “And being fifteen doesn’t stop people from...” 

She trails off, glancing at the rearview. 

Connor sighs. “Doing a lot of drugs? Going to rehab? Spending a few weeks in the psych ward -”

“That’s enough,” his dad says, his voice soft but stern. In the front, Connor can see his mom’s bottom lip quivering. 

Fuck he didn’t mean to make her fucking _cry._

God, he’s such an asshole. 

Now he kind of regrets his fuck-you eyeliner a little. 

“Will you please take that ridiculous makeup off?” his mom snaps from the front, tossing a small pack of makeup wipes into the back. 

“No,” Connor says petulantly. “I like it.” 

“Just let it go, Cynthia,” his dad says, resigned. He’s handing his keys to the valet without even looking at him, along with a fifty. “There’s not a scratch on it,” he says, sounding bored. “Bring it back that way and you’ll get another fifty.” 

Connor knows the valet. Eric. He was a senior when Connor was a freshman. A scholarship kid. He wanted to go to law school after undergrad. Sometimes they’d smoke weed together.

He smiles at Connor, tilting his head slightly. “Connor? I heard a rumor that you died.”

Connor scowls. “I wish,” he mutters. “Nice seeing you.”

He follows his parents inside, hoping he can ditch them during the cocktail hour to get a drink or something. Nobody fucking cards at these things. Hell, it’s practically encouraged that everyone gets shitfaced. 

His mom heads right for the champagne and his dad is almost immediately swept into a conversation that sounds like it’s honest to God about lawn management. And his dad doesn’t even manage their lawn. 

Yeah, he’s going to have to make a break for it immediately. 

Connor mumbles something about needing the bathroom, but his parents aren’t listening, so he just scoots out of their line of sight and out onto the terrace this place has. The bartenders outside always give a little bit of a heavier pour anyway. On his way out, Connor spies an abandoned pack of Marlboro Reds on a high table, still mostly full. He swipes it and the lighter, sticking it inside his inside pocket. 

He heads to the bar and orders a rum and coke, because it looks just like coke if anyone asks, and then just grabs a seat and watches the shitshow unfolding around him. 

These things are boring. 

Connor keeps attracting looks. Some from girls that he knows, either from school or from his parents’ stupid country club, and their eyes all linger but none of them approach him. Suits him just fine. He doesn’t want to talk to any of them anyway. 

Should have brought his iPod. He’s bored out of his fucking mind and it’s been, like, fifteen minutes. 

He already needs another drink. 

He’s promised himself he won’t fuck around with anything stronger than pot anymore, but right about now he remembers just why he always got high at these events. Fuck this is boring. 

Connor grabs a second rum and coke and his eyes catch on someone in a blue suit. 

Connor squints slightly. 

It’s Evan. 

Evan from the night before, Evan who bummed him a cigarette, Evan with his fucking adorable frown. He looks… amazing in that suit. Connor’s not normally for dudes in formal wear, but it is really… something. Fuck. And he keeps rubbing a hand through his hair, like he’s unsure about it, and Connor thinks that’s fucking cute. He watches Evan for a moment, just drinking and observing. Evan lets out the smallest, most awkward laugh; nothing like the laughs he gave Connor last night. Less genuine. Connor smiles a little, decides he’s going to go and say hello.

But then Evan shifts his weight slightly and Connor realizes the person he is talking to is Jared fucking Kleinman. 

Fuck no. 

That’s… 

Fuck are they friends? Does Evan know Jared? 

What if they’re talking about him? Evan telling Jared all about running into Connor and making fun of his clothes and how he’d bummed a cigarette and fuck, does he like smoke weird or something? 

Fucking hell. 

Connor feels like his insides are on fire. 

No that’s not fair. 

Evan can’t be friends with Kleinman. 

He can’t be. It’s not fucking fair. 

Connor hasn’t talked to Jared since the end of freshman year. Jared got pissed when Connor threw him under the bus a little, admitting that Jared had been the one to give him the pills he’d used-

Nope. 

Fuck that. 

He and Jared… they weren’t, like, best friends but they’d gotten along. Hung out with the same crowd. Jared was always just a little too obnoxious and loud, but his parents were like the wealthiest people in Newport so nobody dared to exclude him. 

Jared had also started the nickname “Quitter” after Connor went back to school to finish out the ninth grade. 

So Jared could fuck right off. 

Connor doesn’t go say hi to Evan. He decides he obviously won’t be missed during dinner. Even though this place does have pretty good food, Connor’s stomach has seized up and he knows he won’t be eating tonight. He finishes his drink, ditches the glass. He snatches up a glass of champagne and escapes toward the front of the venue, mostly deserted now that people have all arrived. He just needs to hang out for a little while and then he can go home. 

Fuck. 

Outside, Connor lights one of the stolen smokes and catches a figure just beyond the valet point in the fading light. 

“Connor Murphy?” 

He blinks at the figure. He’s surprised to see it’s Alana Beck, her hair in braids and twisted into an elegant bun, wearing a strapless black gown and holding… a large sign that says “EATING DISORDERS ARE FATAL.”

“Hey Alana,” Connor says, trying to smile. He hasn’t seen her in a while, but they always got along. 

“Thought you were out in New Hampshire at boarding school.”

Connor shrugs. “Came back. What’s all this?” Now that he’s stepped closer, he can see there are dozens of signs with facts about eating disorders and the fashion industry. 

“Oh. I’m protesting the fashion show.”

Connor takes a drag on his cigarette. Nice to see Alana hasn’t really changed. “But the proceeds go to the domestic violence shelter.”

“Sure, but at what cost?” Alana demands, her voice sharp and almost shrill. “To give money to abuse victims, must we abuse teen girls and subject them to unrealistic beauty standards and the male gaze?”

Connor considers. “Come to think of it, that’s pretty fucked.”

Alana stops her work of sticking the signs into the lawn on wooden stakes. “Are you wearing makeup?”

Connor flicks ash off of his cigarette. “It’s a commentary on the patriarchy,” he says drily. 

Alana nods. 

Connor smokes for another moment, then decides to help her finish setting up the display. He starts digging the wooden stakes into the immaculate lawn of the venue. 

“Your parents inside?” he asks. 

“Yes,” Alana says, sounding deeply disappointed. “They made a huge contribution this year to the shelter. The new housing unit is being named for them.”

“Damn,” Connor says. “That’s kind of cool?”

“They think my protest is a wasted effort,” Alana says mournfully. 

“I’m sorry.” Connor tries to offer her a reassuring look. “I think it’s cool.”

“Thank you,” Alana says, her posture straightening. She offers him a smile. “The irony is… I’m actually starving.”

“We could go in and eat,” Connor says reasonably. 

Alana rolls her eyes. “That defeats the whole point of the protest! We can’t engage in this parody of philanthropic intentions, Connor! If we do, we’re no less than accessories to the misogynistic and paternal display happening inside.”

Connor shrugs. “I have an idea.”

They aren’t gone terribly long. Connor bribes Eric with a cigarette to get the keys to his dad’s car, and he and Alana drive away from the venue and through the DriveThru at In-N-Out. They both get milkshakes and burgers and eat them in the car in the parking lot before they return to the event. Connor brings Eric back a burger.

“My mom’s vegan now,” Connor mumbled through a mouthful of burger. 

“Veganism is better for the environment,” Alana says reasonably. 

Connor rolls his eyes. “She says, eating a cheeseburger.”

Alana rolls her eyes. “How come you’re really back from boarding school?”

Connor shakes his head. “My parents want to be able to keep an eye on me,” he lies. “Because I keep doing shit like stealing their cars to get burgers.”

Alana laughs. 

Connor drives them back to the venue and returns the keys to Eric, who winks at him, and takes his burger happily.

“You need any more help?” Connor asks Alana. 

“No, thank you,” she says. “And while I love your enthusiasm for upsetting your parents, you better head inside. The program I looked at said the show would be ending in about fifteen minutes. They’ll notice if you’re not there by the end.”

Connor smiles at her and heads inside, grabbing an empty seat at a table full of preteens who all stare at him like he’s a Martian. 

Whatever. 

Nobody even noticed he was gone.

* * *

Evan has to hand it to Heidi, it’s pretty fucking great of her to try to spare him the pain of a conversation with someone who from all accounts is absolutely terrible. Still, he feels bad abandoning her, leaving her to a conversation that’s clearly awful. 

It’s not like he could do anything to make it better, though, let’s be honest. 

Even though he’s dressed the part, he doesn’t belong here. 

Not at all. 

There’s a girl around his age standing next to the bar, which rules out trying to get a drink. He’s not about to try to make conversation with anyone if he can help it. 

A drink might help, though.

He seriously doubts anyone’s carding, from the fact that the girl is clearly drinking something alcoholic.

But now he’s weirdly standing in the middle of this huge veranda and people are looking at him and he doesn’t want that, he doesn’t want that at all, he has to find somewhere on the edges to hide or disappear or something because he absolutely one hundred percent does not want to be sticking out here-

“Hey.”

Evan turns to see a kid about his age standing next to him. He hadn’t even heard him approach. 

Fuck, that is not good, he needs to get better at realizing people are approaching him, what the fuck. 

“Hey,” Evan replies, not sure why this kid is talking to him. He’s got dark hair and glasses and is wearing a suit that looks expensive but also kind of… a lot. Like, it has some kind of weird pattern on the jacket. It’s kind of… loud. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around,” says the kid, and his voice is as loud as his jacket. “You new in town?”

Evan nods. 

The kid looks at him, like he’s waiting for him to say something else. 

Evan doesn’t. 

“These things always start off super boring,” says the kid. “But hey, the fashion show is kind of fun. Hot chicks parading around is always a win in my book.” He sticks out his hand. “I’m Jared.”

Evan doesn’t want to touch this guy. Doesn’t want to shake his hand. 

But he does it anyway, because if he doesn’t do it, it’s going to be weird, and Evan doesn’t want to look weird. 

“Evan,” he says quietly. 

“So who dragged you along to this?” Jared asks, tilting his head like he’s asking some kind of important question. “None of us ever come to one of these things by ourselves, it’s always some kind of parental obligation.”

“I’m here with my aunt,” Evan lies. 

“Who’s your aunt?” Jared asks. 

Evan hesitates. “You probably won’t know her. There are like a hundred people here.”

Jared snorts. “I know everyone. Come on. Who’s your aunt?”

Evan shoots a look toward the bar. The girl who was there earlier has gone, but now he’s stuck in this stupid conversation and he has no idea how to get out of it. He runs his hand through his hair, which is too fluffy and weird, but he has no idea how he’s supposed to fix that, he has no idea about hair at all. 

Fuck, a drink would be good right now. 

When it becomes clear this guy isn’t going to let up, he throws him a bone. “Heidi.”

Jared’s eyes widen. “You’re Heidi Herzberg’s nephew. The one from Seattle, right?”

Evan has no idea how that story has spread so fast but he nods. 

“Well, I hope you’re liking California,” says Jared with this smirk that Evan finds a little obnoxious. “At least it’s not raining.”

Evan tries to laugh, just to make it seem like he’s a normal human being who can recognize a joke, but it comes out small and weird and choked. 

“Well,” says Jared, “let’s go get you a drink, it’s the only way to deal with these things.” He loops his arm around Evan’s shoulder like they’re old friends and escorts him to the bar. 

Evan really wants to punch this kid for touching him. 

He does not want this kid to be touching him. 

But he also doesn’t want to fuck things up for Heidi.

And he really does want a drink. 

So he doesn’t punch him. 

He ends up spending the next hour or so standing by the bar with this Jared guy, listening to him talk and talk and talk about fuck knows what. Video games? Other people at school? Some kind of summer camp? A party that he’s going to? Evan isn’t really taking any of it in, just… nodding when he feels like he should and watching what’s going on around him, trying to make sure he doesn’t get caught out. 

Evan doesn’t belong here. 

He doesn’t belong here in the way that people in movies who are planning a heist casually visit the museum beforehand. It might not be obvious to everyone, but he can’t escape the tension, can’t escape the weird feeling that somehow, someone’s going to figure out that he’s not supposed to be here, he’s not supposed to be here, he’s not supposed to be anywhere-

“Come on,” says Jared, once again looping his arm around Evan’s shoulder. “Let’s get inside. Find some good seats.” He grins. “You get close enough to the stage and you can see up their skirts.”

This guy is a creep. 

But clearly he belongs here. And if Evan wants people to think he belongs too, then this guy could be, like, camouflage. 

He lets the guy escort him inside.

When everyone’s seated, there’s a server at their table. “Chicken or beef?” 

“Beef,” says Jared immediately. He turns to Evan. “The chicken here is terrible. Completely dry.”

Evan looks at the server. “I’ll have the chicken, please.”

The server looks at him and gives him the tiniest smile. 

Jared just rolls his eyes. “Your funeral, dude.”

When the food arrives, it turns out Jared is wrong. The chicken isn’t dry at all. 

It’s really fucking good, actually. 

The fanciest meal Evan’s ever eaten, that’s for sure. As he eats, he’s careful to make sure he doesn’t look stupid, doesn’t look out of place, isn’t eating like a total spazz, but Jared doesn’t seem to have that same concern. He just talks and talks and talks about fuck knows what, all the while eating his beef and talking with his mouth full and it’s just… really fucking annoying, because no one seems to care. 

No one’s looking at him weirdly, even though he’s being an absolute ass right now. 

Whoever this kid is, he’s clearly well-known enough that he gets away with terrible table manners. His parents probably have money. 

That seems to be how it works. If you have money, you can get away with anything. 

It’s bullshit. 

They’ve just finished eating when the lights dim in the room and the lights on the weird stage thing in the middle of the room come up. Evan watches as a girl in a tight purple dress comes through a curtain and stands by the microphone that’s set up. 

It’s Zoe, he realizes a second later. 

His heart starts pounding too fast. 

“Good evening everyone,” she says, this big smile on her face. “Thank you all for coming out to our annual fashion show fundraiser. As you know, we give all proceeds to the women’s shelter, which is a totally good cause. Thank you to Fashion Island for donating all of the outfits we’ll be modeling for you tonight and thanks to all of you for your support!”

There’s a round of applause. Zoe smiles, then tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Around this time last year, we lost a beloved member of our community, Mr. David Henderson,” she says, her voice even. “At last year’s fashion show, we honored his memory by making a donation in his name and we’ve decided to do it again this year, too. I’d like to invite David’s wife Heidi to the stage to say a few words to remember David. Ladies and gentlemen, Heidi Henderson.”

There’s another round of applause. Evan looks at Zoe, a little bewildered, because she clearly knows Heidi. Why would she get her last name wrong? 

Heidi walks the stairs to the stage, her head held high. Evan watches her carefully. Sees her hands shake. Her shoulders tense. 

“Thank you Zoe,” she says, her voice quiet. She looks out to the crowd and doesn’t speak for a moment, her eyes scanning the room until they land on Evan. She smiles a little, then continues. “It’s hard to know exactly what to say about David. There’s so much that I could say.” Her face falls a little. “This December would have been our seventeenth wedding anniversary. I… I miss him every day.” She steadies her shoulders. “David loved this community. Loved all of you. I know I… I know I didn’t grow up here but David was one of you, and he loved this place. Loved this community. So it means a lot that there’s a part of him here tonight, that you are all dedicated to keeping his memory alive. I… I appreciate it more than I can say.” 

She shrugs, this helpless expression on her face, then thanks the crowd and leaves. 

The applause is a little less enthusiastic this time, Evan thinks. Something in his chest aches a little. 

He knows what it feels like, not to belong. 

He’s starting to wonder if Heidi does, too. 

The fashion show is… fine, Evan guesses. Jared seems to have an in with the bartender, because drinks keep showing up at their table, drinks that are definitely alcoholic. Evan drinks the first one but turns down a second, because if he’s drunk he’s not going to be able to keep it together, keep being fucking normal. 

Jared doesn’t seem to care. “More for me,” he says in his cheerful voice. 

It’s near the end of the show when Zoe walks the runway. She’s in this long satin-y looking dress with her hair pinned up elegantly, mostly hiding the blue streaks in her hair. 

She looks… beautiful. 

Completely stunning. 

When she walks the runway, she spots him and winks at him. 

Jared is, thankfully, too drunk to notice. 

The show is finishing up and someone’s making closing remarks when Jared elbows Evan. “So,” he says, his voice matter-of-fact. “If alcohol isn't your drug of choice, what is? I can get you whatever it is you’re into.”

Evan blinks. “Excuse me?”

“Uppers? Downers? You name it, I can get it.”

Evan feels his heart racing too fast. 

Fuck, this guy’s an asshole. 

“I d-d-don’t need anything,” he says, hating how his voice shakes. “Thanks, I guess.”

Jared rolls his eyes. “You need fucking _something_ ,” he sneers. “D-d-d-dude.”

“Fuck you,” Evan says without thinking. 

Jared tilts his head. “I’m sorry, _what_ did you say?”

“There you are,” says a familiar voice behind him. 

Heidi’s standing at the edge of the table. Evan’s never been so pleased to see another human being before in his life. 

“Hi Jared,” says Heidi, her voice polite. “Mind if I borrow Evan for a moment?”

“Sure, Ms. Herzberg,” says Jared, even more politely. Fuck, it’s like he’d flicked a switch from asshole to suckup. “Evan, it was nice meeting you.”

“Sure,” says Evan, and he stands up and follows Heidi across the room and to a table near the back of the venue. He takes a seat right next to some kind of fern, which gives him the perfect place to hide. 

Heidi looks at him for a few moments, then her shoulders sad. “I’m sorry I dragged you here,” she says, and her voice is so sad and she’s slurring her words a little and it occurs to Evan that she’s a little drunk. Not, like, wasted, but… a little drunk. “I knew it was going to suck and I made you come anyway. I should have just cancelled.”

“Why didn’t you?” Evan asks, genuinely curious. “You don’t seem to enjoy being here.”

Heidi blinks. Bites her lip. Her eyes are a little glassy. 

“This is David’s world,” she says after a moment. “Not mine. And I hate it, I do, but…” She sighs. Pushes a strand of hair out of her face. “It reminds me of him, being here. He’d want me to be here. So… here I am.”

“I don’t think he’d want you to be miserable,” Evan finds himself saying. 

Heidi looks at him. Smiles a little. 

Flags down the bartender and orders another drink. 

Evan spends the rest of the show sitting with Heidi, trying to blend into the fern as best he can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous" by Good Charlotte.


	5. Drop A Heart, Break A Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan, Zoe, and Connor go to a party.

His mom’s drunk, Connor notices when his parents find him after the show ends. He can tell because she’s glaring daggers at Heidi and she can normally keep it together a little bit better when she’s sober. 

His dad looks uncomfortable and Connor almost feels bad for him for a second. It must suck to know your wife totally had a thing for someone else, like, the whole time you’ve been married. In middle school, some asshole started a rumor that Zoe was actually David’s kid, and their dad got super pissed and it was sort of awful. 

His dad just had looked so sad about it. Connor knows his dad had a vasectomy later that year and he doubts the rumors were unrelated. At the time he said something about how his mom had handled the birth control for the last decade and it was only fair. His mom had looked mortified ( _ “Larry, please, not in front of the children.” _ ) and Connor remembers feeling uncomfortable but it had nothing to do with the fact that his parents were clearly still banging. 

Connor’s dad looks sort of sad now. The same kind of sad. 

Maybe Connor should, like, ask if he wants to play catch tomorrow or something. Throw him a bone. He’s not that bad, as far as dads go really. 

Some people have real problems. 

“Your sister seemed a little nervous hosting,” his dad says to Connor, “She got Heidi’s last name wrong.”

“Yeah, I dunno what’s up with that…” Connor says awkwardly. 

“The two of you,” his mom slurs, “Making a fool of me in front of everyone. Blue hair. Eyeliner. Like you want to embarrass me.”

“Cynthia, sweetheart, come on,” his dad says, his voice low soothing. 

Connor feels that sort of like he’s been stabbed. Like… He didn’t mean to hurt his mom’s feelings. He just wanted to annoy her a little because she was being so obnoxious about this whole event. Connor feels sort of sick. 

“I’m going to the bathroom,” he mutters, hurrying away. He barely makes it into the men’s restroom before his stomach totally turns on him. He’s disgusted by the amount of food he throws up. Fuck why had he eaten like that?

Why had he picked tonight to piss his mom off?

Why is he such a fucking asshole, seriously, what is the matter with him? He can’t just be normal for one fucking night? 

Connor wearily flushes the toilet. He heads to the sinks, washes his hands and rinses out his mouth and… wipes up a little of the eyeliner. The damage is already done, of course, but maybe his mom will stop looking at him like he told her she’s a bad mother. 

He told her that once. He was high. 

She’s never forgiven him. Connor doesn’t think she has anyway. 

He leaves the bathroom, passing Brian Harris as he leaves. He purposefully smacks his shoulder against Connor’s, muttering, “Quitter,” before heading toward a urinal. Connor’s guts seize again and for a moment he thinks he’s going to throw up again. 

He doesn’t. 

He heads out of the bathroom and bumps into Zoe, her cheeks red, stumbling a little. Her hair is down again, curly and a little bit wild. “Oh shit,” she slurs, seeing him. “Forgot you were here.”

Connor narrows his eyes. “You should maybe take it easy on the free drinks,” he says to her. 

Zoe rolls her eyes. “You should maybe take it easy on the eyeliner,” She says, as if this is a very clever thing to say. “Where are mom and dad? I want to tell them I’m going to a party.”

Connor sighs. “I dunno, mom was… you know.”

Zoe’s half-smile fades. “God, in public?” She says it like being drunk in public is the height of scandal, which Connor considers pretty damn hypocritical considering the fact that she’s slurring a little. 

“I dunno, maybe tell dad instead,” Connor suggests, trying to be… he doesn’t know. Helpful. Or whatever. He doesn’t know. 

He follows Zoe as she hunts for their parents and gets pulled into various conversations with adults telling her how wonderful they think she is. Most of them ignore Connor but some of them shoot him dirty looks. 

Whatever. 

Zoe turns to say something to Mrs. Germanotta when her eyes go big. “Hey, Evan!” she says, excusing herself from the conversation she was having. 

Connor’s head turns so fast his neck cracks. 

How does Zoe know Evan?

Seriously, how the fuck does Zoe know Evan?

He is in a blue suit and looks… fantastic. Connor forces himself not to stare as his sister waves at Evan enthusiastically. “How’d you like the show?” she asks. 

Evan looks uncomfortable. He’s looking between Connor and Zoe, his brows knit together a little. “Good, uh, yeah, I mean, I… I liked it?”

“I’m glad,” Zoe says, and she’s blinking a lot. Connor realizes she’s like, batting her eyelashes, and he cannot figure that out because his brain is still trying to figure out how they know each other. 

Connor coughs slightly. 

Zoe shoots him a look, like,  _ evaporate, asshole,  _ and Connor wishes he could but he remains stubbornly corporeal. She looks back at Evan and says in a voice far less perky. “This is Connor. My brother.”

Evan’s eyebrows raise. “Oh! You… you have a brother.”

Connor does not like that answer. He feels pissed off about it. So, what, Zoe and Evan, like, know each other and Zoe never even mentioned that he exists? And Evan’s, like, fucking looking at his sister all googly-eyed and Connor hates them both for a second, an irrational and stupid second, because seriously they’re both assholes for like. Knowing each other and whatever. He doesn’t know. Just… the way Zoe and Evan look at each other turns something unpleasant in his chest. 

“I’m going to an afterparty,” Zoe says to Evan, smiling. “On the beach? Should be a good time. You want to come?”

Evan’s cheeks go pink. 

Connor thinks maybe he needs to deck this guy. 

“Yeah,” he says, nodding, “I mean, I just have to ask my - but yeah, sorry, I mean. Yeah.”

“Great,” Zoe says. “I’m grabbing a ride with my friend Madison, so want to meet me up front?”

Evan then looks at Connor. “Aren’t you going?”

Connor opens his mouth to say, no, obviously he’s not going to some fucking beach house party because there’s more cocaine than beer at those and also he hates everyone who would go to a beach party, but then Zoe tries to subtly shake her head to tell him to say no, and Connor can’t help it. His mouth turns up in a smile. 

“Totally, yeah.”

Zoe looks murderous. Connor feels like that’s a win. 

“I just - let me just talk to Heidi?” Evan says, walking away. 

Zoe smacks Connor’s arm hard the second he’s gone. “What the fuck?” she whispers angrily. 

“What?” Connor says, faux innocently. 

“You are… such a freak, oh my god,” Zoe says, stalking off to where she’s spotted their dad. She sighs heavily. “I’m going to a party,” she says. “But Connor can’t go, right? Since, you know, he’s irresponsible?”

Connor opens his mouth to protest, but his dad surprises him. “Connor can go. Honestly, I’d rather you weren’t there alone Zoe.”

“Dad!” Zoe says, sounding mortified. 

“I was young once,” their dad says, frowning slightly. He turns to Connor. “Absolutely no drinking, you hear me?”

“Yes sir,” Connor says, and he’s mostly not saying it to be a prick. 

“Keep an eye on your sister,” his dad says to him, his voice low. “Call if you need anything.” He considers for a second. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Connor nods. 

* * *

Cynthia Murphy is staring at her. If looks could kill, Heidi would be dead right now. 

Dead like her husband. 

Like Evan’s mom. 

Fuck, she’s drunk. Drunker than she should be. 

Especially given that she’s now responsible for a whole-ass teenage boy. Jesus. She doesn’t know what she’s doing. She has no  _ idea  _ what she’s doing. 

The show seems to be over. Evan looks at her, his eyes guarded as usual. 

“Is there a bathroom here?” Evan asks, then his cheeks go red. “I mean, of course there’s a bathroom, just… where is it?”

“There’s one just out by the entrance,” Heidi says, standing up and gesturing. “If you head out that way, just go to the… left, I think, for the men’s room.”

“Okay,” says Evan, his voice soft and hesitant. “I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be here,” Heidi replies, then watches him go.

Decides to get another glass of champagne while she’s at it. She’s already drunk, may as well take a cab home and get the car tomorrow. 

She changes her mind on the way to the bar and gets a scotch. The bartender hands it to her, and she’s about to take a sip when there’s a voice behind her. 

“David’s drink was scotch.”

Heidi tries not to sigh in frustration. Of fucking course Cynthia followed her to the bar. “It was,” she says, trying to keep her voice even. “Hello, Cynthia.”

“I’ll have the same,” says Cynthia, her voice slurred, and Heidi can see that the bartender wants to cut her off. Probably should cut her off. But if he cuts her off, she’ll make a fuss, and probably get him fired because she’s that much of a petty bitch. Heidi shrugs at him sympathetically, and he pours her drink without protest. 

This is exactly what Heidi was hoping to avoid tonight. A confrontation with Cynthia Murphy. She hasn’t seen the woman in person since January and that hadn’t exactly been a fun time for anyone. 

Except Cynthia’s fellow wine moms who live for gossip. They had a field day. 

Heidi’s known Cynthia almost as long as she’s known David. Cynthia was David’s high school girlfriend and they’d stayed friends up until David’s death. She was one of the first people Heidi met when she moved to town. Heidi used to work with Cynthia’s husband Larry. Used to consider Cynthia and Larry her friends, even if she and Cynthia never had much in common. When she and David got married, they purposefully bought the house next door to Cynthia and Larry. Connor was only two months old and Cynthia was just about pregnant with Zoe. David was hopeful that soon they’d have kids of their own. 

Kids who’d grow up with Connor and Zoe as family.

They’d tried. Tried a lot, in fact. Had a couple of miscarriages that had left her sick and weak. Heidi had run herself ragged trying to figure out what was wrong, why she wasn’t able to get pregnant or stay pregnant. Went through tests and tests and tests. 

Then David did some tests of his own. 

Heidi remembers David telling her about his results, telling her that if she really wanted children they could look into other options. 

She remembers telling David that all she’d ever wanted was him.

She’d meant it. 

She still does.

“Zoe did very well tonight,” says Heidi, for lack of anything else to say. “She’s a good kid.” She doesn’t mention how Zoe got her name wrong, because despite everything, she’s not actually looking for a fight here. 

Even though she’d be absolutely justified to completely lose it on Cynthia right now. 

Cynthia Murphy is so fucking lucky that Heidi’s a good person. 

“Don’t know why she insists on embarrassing me,” Cynthia slurs darkly. “Blue streaks in her hair. It’s ridiculous. People are talking.”

“She’s a teenager. She’s expressing herself.”

“She looks ridiculous.”

“She’s a good kid,” Heidi says again. “She’s worked hard on this event. You should be proud of her.”

“People are talking,” Cynthia says again, her voice dark, taking a sip of her scotch. “Zoe’s blue hair, Connor’s eyeliner… they all think I’m a joke.” She glares at Heidi. “You think I’m a joke, don’t you? You think this is funny?”

“Honestly Cynthia,” says Heidi, tilting her head and looking her in the eye. “I don’t really think about you at all.”

It’s a lie, of course. Heidi’s spent night after night thinking about ripping Cynthia’s hair out, punching her in the gut, wanting to rage and scream and cry over the fact that people she thought were like family could turn on her so quickly. 

Heidi wants to be the bigger person. 

She really does. 

But she can never truly forgive Cynthia for what she did. 

Cynthia rolls her eyes, then downs the whole glass of scotch. Orders another one. The bartender doesn’t look pleased, but he pours her a new glass anyway. She doesn’t even thank him, just turns and looks at Heidi. 

“You might want to get that dress resized,” says Cynthia cattily. “You’ve let yourself go since David passed.” Heidi, who knows for a fact she has neither gained nor lost weight, doesn’t rise to the bait, which seems to anger Cynthia even more. “And that shade of green just washes you out. You should let me take you shopping, you might find something that’s fit to be worn in public.”

“No thanks,” says Heidi immediately. She takes a sip of her own scotch, then another. “Speaking of shopping, Zoe was a godsend this afternoon.”

Cynthia frowns. “What happened this afternoon?”

Heidi regrets saying anything. She’s about to try to make up an excuse when she sees Evan approaching, looking a little apprehensive. She smiles at him and waves him over, ignoring Cynthia. “How are you doing, sweetie?” she asks Evan, who looks a little surprised at the term of endearment. Heidi berates herself a little. She’s always been an affectionate drunk, she just needs to dial it back. 

“I’m good,” says Evan, his tone cautious. He shoots a look at Cynthia, then back to Heidi. “I, uh… Zoe invited me to a party. Is it… is it okay if I go?”

Cynthia turns her head to look at Evan so quickly Heidi thinks she might have whiplash. “Zoe did what?”

“I think that sounds great,” says Heidi immediately, unable to stop herself, because fuck Cynthia Murphy, fuck her with something sharp and uncomfortable. “You two really hit it off, huh?”

“She’s nice,” Evan says immediately, his cheeks a little pink, looking warily at Cynthia, then back to Heidi. “It’s, uh, it’s at the beach, but I don’t think I’ll have time to change.”

Heidi reaches out and undoes Evan’s tie. “Let’s get you a bit more casual, then,” she says, taking off the tie carefully then unbuttoning the top button of Evan’s shirt. “No one wants to wear a tie on a beach.”

Evan laughs a little. Looks at Cynthia again, who’s glaring at the two of them. Heidi takes pity on the poor kid and makes introductions. 

“Evan, this is Cynthia. She lives next door.”

“Hi,” says Evan, a little awkwardly. 

“She’s Zoe’s mom,” Heidi continues. 

“Zoe and Connor’s mom?” Evan asks, and Cynthia nods. Heidi finds herself momentarily taken aback, because the last she heard Connor was in New Hampshire in boarding school. Fuck. She didn’t know he was back. “They’re both really nice.”

Cynthia looks at Evan, this long, assessing look. “And who might you be?”

“My nephew,” Heidi lies. “From Seattle. He’s staying for a while.”

Cynthia just keeps looking at him, and Evan looks more and more uncomfortable. Finally, she speaks. 

“Nice suit.”

“Thank you,” Evan says quietly. “Zoe helped me pick it out.”

Cynthia raises her eyebrows. “Did she?”

“The-the airline? Lost my bags, so I n-needed to… we w-went shopping,” Evan says, and Heidi notices his hands are starting to shake. 

“Zoe really helped us out,” Heidi says, putting her hand on Evan’s shoulder and squeezing it lightly. “We really appreciate it.”

Evan nods. “Yeah.” 

Heidi smiles at him. “You got a ride to this party?”

“Yeah,” Evan says with a nod. 

“And a ride home later?”

Evan nods again. 

“Okay then,” Heidi says, squeezing his shoulder again. “Try to stay out of trouble, yeah?”

Evan’s cheeks flush. He nods, then waves awkwardly. “Nice to meet you,” he mumbles to Cynthia, then heads for the exit.

Cynthia finishes her scotch, then looks Heidi in the eye. “And how long will he be here?”

Heidi just looks right back. “As long as he needs to be,” she replies, and finishes her drink. 

* * *

Connor and Zoe head off. Zoe glares back at him a few times and finally groans and says, “Please try  _ not  _ to embarrass me.” 

Connor rolls his eyes, knowing it’ll happen no matter what he does. Evan joins them near the exits, now without his tie. Connor considers this and follows suit, unknotting his and shoving it into his inside pocket. 

They walk past Alana’s protest signs, taking in the facts she’s written out and listening to the statistics she’s saying into a megaphone about the dangerous standards set up by the fashion industry. Some asshole cheers, so Alana starts chanting awful slogans about anorexia not being sexy, as if she hopes people will join in. 

They don’t. Connor almost feels bad for ignoring her. 

“God, she’s so embarrassing,” Zoe mutters, rolling her eyes. 

Connor frowns. “I helped set up the signs. I think she makes a good point.”

Zoe rolls her eyes, “Well that’s probably because you…” she trails off, never finishing her biting remark, like she remembered Evan was there and doesn’t want to act like a huge bitch in front of him. “You and Alana were lab partners. Right?” 

“Yep,” Connor says. “Lab partners.”

Evan glances at Connor suddenly, his guarded expression from the night before lifting a little bit. He raises his eyebrows, like he might be trying to ask Connor a question, but Connor… ignores it. 

Fuck this guy for knowing his sister. 

“You guys go to school together or…?” Connor asks, looking between his sister and Evan. 

“No,” Zoe says. “Evan’s visiting from Seattle. Heidi’s his aunt.” 

Connor feels his eyebrows go up. Guess that explains why he was coming from Heidi’s place last night then. But something about that sits weirdly with Connor. Something about the suit Evan’s wearing now doesn’t quite mesh with the baggy jeans and hoodie he saw last night. 

Connor keeps his mouth shut. 

The three of them pile in Madison’s older brother Tommy’s banana yellow jeep, which is so crowded that Zoe ends up sitting in Evan’s lap.

That pisses Connor off like no other, the anger bubbling in his stomach and chest like lava. When they go over a bump, Evan wraps his arms around Zoe to keep her from bouncing out of the car, and she giggles and says in a way that might be flirtatious that Evan makes a good seatbelt. 

Connor wants to scream. 

Of course he and his fucking sister have the same taste in guys. Why would he assume anything good might come from meeting a cute boy next door?

God he wants to like. 

Throw something. 

Punch someone. 

He balls his hands into fists and tries to just breathe. 

Zoe’s still smiling all big and flirty at Evan, asking what his favorite thing about California is so far. He looks uncertain when he answers, his eyes flickering over to meet Connor’s in the dark for a moment, then says, “Uh. The, uh. Weather?”

Zoe seems to take that as an opportunity to talk about all of the sunbathing she did at the beach this summer, mentioning tan lines in a way that makes Connor’s stomach clench uncomfortably. Like she’s purposefully talking about being, like, basically naked in front of him. 

That’s fucking gross. 

He wants to pull out his wallet and show Evan the picture of him and Zoe at Disneyland when they were in middle school. Zoe still had a potbelly and that bob; Connor had braces and his ears stuck out horribly with his short haircut. He wants to tell Evan that photo was only three years ago, see if that makes Evan as sick to his stomach as it makes Connor because Zoe is a kid, she’s a child, she’s too young for the way she’s behaving. 

Madison turns around from the front seat to say something to Zoe but her eyes focus on Connor instead. She looks pissed. “Jesus, Zoe, you brought Quitter with you?”

Great. The nickname has traveled to the underclassmen. Awesome. 

“It’s fine,” she says dismissively, like she doesn’t want to smack talk Connor in front of Evan. Like maybe Evan thinks Zoe’s a nice girl. 

Connor breathes out through his nose, trying to resist the urge to ruin this for her on purpose. He can be the bigger guy. Evan’s probably not even gay anyway, it’s stupid to be jealous and petty. 

“Don’t fuck up my party, Quitter,” Madison says from the front. “My brother will kick your ass if you try anything.”

Connor smiles at Madison widely, all fake and saccharine, and says, “Tommy’s still got that little problem with the Xanies then?” 

Madison narrows her eyes but says nothing. Tommy, driving, appears not to have heard. 

Zoe looks at Connor angrily but then turns back to Evan to keep talking about her summer, which apparently involved a lot of babysitting. Connor hadn’t known that. Maybe she’s lying to seem more wholesome, but it isn’t like Connor actually knows what his sister is up to most of the time so he can’t exactly try to catch her in a lie. 

Whatever. 

They arrive at the party before long, and Zoe heads off with some other girls to go and get changed. There’s a small beach house, and Connor leads Evan inside so they can each get a drink. Evan murmurs his thanks when Connor hands him a beer he pours from the keg, and the pair of them survey the party happening. There’s a bonfire on the beach outside, loud music pumping inside. 

Connor doesn’t know what to say. He finds himself sort of waiting for Evan to initiate conversation. 

He doesn’t. He just drinks his beer quietly, taking in the scene around them. 

Connor notices that the bruise on Evan’s face has… disappeared. That’s weird. “Your face is better,” he blurts stupidly. 

“No,” Evan says, shaking his head. “I’m just. Wearing makeup.” 

“Makeup, huh?” Connor says, his eyebrows up, smiling stupidly. “Dunno how I feel about dudes in makeup.”

* * *

This party isn’t like anything Evan’s ever been to before. 

Not like he’s been to a lot of parties, but they definitely haven’t had this kind of view. 

The beach is nice at night. Evan likes the bonfire. 

“Your face is better,” says Connor after a while. 

“No,” Evan says. He shakes his head. He doesn’t know why he’s admitting this, but he does anyway. “I’m just. Wearing makeup.” 

Connor raises his eyebrows. “Makeup, huh?” He smiles this big smile. “Dunno how I feel about dudes in makeup.”

Evan’s about to protest, but catches a glimpse of Connor’s eyes. They look different to how they did the night before, outlined in smudged black. 

Connor’s clearly making a joke, because… he’s also wearing makeup. 

Now that Evan’s noticed, he can’t look away.

Connor’s got nice eyes. Really nice eyes. 

They’re even nicer like this. More noticeable. 

Kind of fierce.

Fuck, that’s a weird thing to think, what the  _ fuck. _

They stand there for a little longer, looking out at the beach from inside the beach house. Connor looks over at Evan after a moment. “Wanna go hang out by the bonfire?” he suggests. 

“Yeah,” says Evan, nodding. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

They head out of the house and closer to the fire. There are people congregating around it in crowds. Connor hesitates, then gestures for Evan to follow him and they sit a little way away. It’s still a good view of the bonfire, but it’s not crowded, not full of people. 

The ocean is beautiful like this. Dark and wild and beautiful. 

Evan could get used to this. 

He probably shouldn’t. 

“So,” Connor says after what feels like a long time. “Seattle.”

Evan nods. “Seattle.”

“How long are you in town?” Connor asks. 

Evan feels his shoulders tense. “I don’t know,” he says. 

“Okay,” says Connor with a nod. There’s another long pause as they both watch the bonfire. “How come you’re staying with Heidi?”

Evan feels all the blood drain from his face. Feels his hands shake a little. “Mom and Dad are in Europe,” he says in a rush. “Shopping.”

“Shopping?” Connor asks, tilting his head a little. 

“Mom’s shopping,” Evan says, trying to get his story straight. “Dad is in real estate.”

“Whereabouts in Europe?” Connor asks. 

“Italy,” Evan blurts out. Connor blinks. “Vienna?” he tries. 

Connor frowns. “Vienna is in Austria.”

“Right,” says Evan, nodding, trying to salvage this, trying not to look like he’s making shit up. “Vienna and then… the one in Italy, the one with the…”

“Venice?” Connor offers and Evan nods, grateful. 

“Yes. Venice. Venice and Vienna.”

Evan’s fucking this up. He’s fucking this up he’s fucking this up it was easier to lie to Zoe and Jared and anyone else but for some reason, he’s fucking up lying to Connor and that’s bad that’s bad bad bad he needs to get his shit together he needs to get it together. 

Evan stands up. “Bathroom,” he says hurriedly. “I gotta… I’ll be back, okay?”

“Okay,” says Connor slowly, frowning a little. Evan tries to smile, then hurries to the beach house, trying to actually locate somewhere he can freak out in private. 

It takes him a while to find a room that isn’t occupied by someone having sex or doing cocaine. There’s a fuckload of cocaine happening, which surprises him more than it should. 

Of course these rich kids are on cocaine. 

Of fucking  _ course _ . 

He could get into a lot more trouble here than back home if he really wanted to, fuck. 

Fucking fuck. 

Evan finally finds a bathroom and locks himself in, looking at his reflection in the mirror for a moment. He still looks like a stranger. Like someone he doesn’t recognize. 

Through the door, he can hear people talking. 

“Fucking sophomore girls, they’re practically naked.”

“I know, right? Basically begging to be fucked.”

“You see Quitter’s little sister? Her brother’s a freak but she is looking  _ hot  _ tonight. She’s not even wearing a bra.”

“Bet you crazy runs in the family. She’s probably a fucking wild animal in the sack, Jesus. Bet she’s into all sorts of kinky shit.”

“The good girls always are. Did you see her up there at the fashion show? Newport moms all creaming their panties for her. Anyone who’s that wholesome for the adults has to have a wild side.”

“Oh, Zoe’s got a wild side, did you see her hair?”

Evan feels his blood rushing too fast in his ears. Feels his fists clench. What the fuck, who the  _ fuck  _ is saying this kind of shit about Zoe? Whoever it is needs their ass kicked, like, yesterday, fucking fuck. 

_ Don’t be an idiot, _ the voice in his head warns him.  _ You get into a fight here and you’re fucked. Heidi will kick you out and you’ll be living under a bridge back in Chino before you know it.  _

“Bet you a grand I can fuck her tonight,” says one of the guys outside the bathroom.

“Make it two and you’ve got a deal.”

Fuck it. 

Evan throws open the door and finds himself face to face with two guys who are at least twice his size. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he says before he can think better of it. “Shut the fuck up, you d-don’t fucking talk about girls that way, assholes.”

The guys look at him, both squaring their shoulders to bring themselves up to their full heights. “Yeah?” says the first guy. “Who the fuck are you?”

“You don’t f-fucking talk about  _ anyone  _ that way,” Evan says stubbornly, feeling his heart pumping too fast, his chest aching. He’s clenching his fists, he’s barely containing his fury and fuck, he’s wanted to punch someone for days, fuck it, fuck these guys, fuck this whole fucking situation. 

The second guy frowns. “Listen, I don’t know who you think you are-”

Evan punches him right in the nose, reveling in the sound of cartilage shifting, the sight of blood. His hand hurts but he doesn’t fucking care. He’s had the most fucking stressful three days of his goddamn life and these assholes deserve to be ripped to shreds for what they said. 

The first guy lunges at Evan, but Evan’s quick. He dodges out of his way, then punches the guy in the stomach, then kicks him. Jumps on him and starts to punch him like he means it. 

He fucking means it. 

The second guy is on him moments later, punching and kicking and beating the shit out of him, and Evan’s almost glad for it, almost wants it, because fuck this, fuck all of this, fuck these people, fuck this place, fuck everything fuck fuck fuck it all. 

There’s a kick to his head, then all of a sudden the second guy’s being pulled off him. 

Evan looks to see Connor throwing a punch at the second guy. 

“What the fuck?” says the guy, and Connor punches him again. 

The first guy drags Evan back to the floor and pins him to the ground. Evan responds by headbutting him as hard as he can, then kneeing him in the groin and flipping him over so he’s got the upper hand. 

“Why are we punching these guys?” Connor calls over to Evan after a moment. 

“You need a fucking reason?” Evan replies immediately. 

Connor grins, this big, almost feral grin. “Not really.”

* * *

He’s not exactly expecting to find Evan in the middle of a fistfight with Brian Harris and Chad Miller but. Well. Something about it doesn’t surprise him. 

Evan is kind of getting his ass kicked, however. Two on one is no fair. 

Connor makes a quick decision. 

He jumps in, pulling Chad bodily off of Evan and punching him. The blow lands hard on Chad’s cheek and Chad stumbles a little. He punches Chad a second time when he tries to come at Connor, and Chad sinks to his knees. 

“Why are we punching these guys?” Connor calls to Evan because he has no clue what’s happening but he’s sort of always wanted to clock Chad. It’s pretty fucking satisfying.

“You need a fucking reason?” Evan returns, and then he’s basically wrestling with Brian on the floor. 

Connor grins. Chad launches himself at Connor, and Connor remembers in the second before he hits the floor that Chad is an all-state football player. Shit. His head collides painfully with the floor, but Connor manages to use some of the momentum of the fall to shove Chad off and swings a fist out, catching Chad in the teeth violently. His arm erupts in pain, and he gets a glimpse of his bloodied knuckles just before Chad lands a punch on Connor’s jaw. He hears his teeth clack together painfully. _ Ow, fuck, _ Connor wasn’t prepared for that. He hits him back, then scrambles to his feet and kicks Chad in the stomach. He lets out a whoosh of air and stays down. 

Fights aren’t how they seem in the movies or on television. There’s no space in them, really, it’s just people grunting and rolling around and trying to smack against each other with as much force as they can. 

Connor stupidly thinks it’s a bit more like sex than any of these meatheads would want to hear him point out.

Connor turns his attention to Brian. Evan’s fist keeps colliding with Brian’s temple, rhythmic and hard. 

“Okay okay,” Connor says, hauling Evan back. “Don’t fucking kill him, fuck.” 

Evan goes to lunge at the guy again, but Connor grabs him roughly around the middle, holding him back. Brian gets to his feet and spits out blood. The blood spatters, hits Connor and Evan’s shoes, stains the rug they’re all standing on, a Rorschach blot of disgust.

“What the fuck, Quitter, your family hire you a fucking bodyguard?”

Connor almost lets go of Evan, almost lets him just. Fucking murder Brian Harris. But then Zoe’s standing in the hallway, practically naked in some fucking skimpy outfit. 

“What the fuck?” she demands, looking pissed. Her hands are on her hips and Connor’s idiotically reminded of their mother. Their mother who would kill Zoe if she saw her in that outfit, fuck. 

Connor has to hold Evan back again when Brian laughs. 

“What’s up, Zoe?” Brian says, as if he’s not bleeding. 

She crosses her arms over her chest. “What the fuck?” she repeats, her eyes flashing dangerously. 

“This dude just like totally freaked out at us,” Chad says, pointing at Evan. “And Quitter joined in -”

“Fuck you!” Evan spits. He looks at Zoe. “They were fucking talking about you like you were a piece of-of meat!”

Zoe doesn’t look impressed. “I can handle myself,” she says coolly, her eyes hard. 

Connor glares at her. “Don’t be a bitch, Zoe.”

She looks more pissed. “Fucking typical, Connor. Starting a fucking fight the second I turn my back.”

Connor wants to protest that he finished the fight, actually, but Zoe’s still yelling at him. 

“Why the fuck are you even here, Connor? Nobody wants you here.”

Connor feels that one worse than the punches. He flinches. 

“Yeah, Quitter,” Brian laughs, voice singsong and taunting. “Who the hell even invited you? Nobody wants to see your ugly fucking face.”

Connor’s not prepared, and Evan escapes, hitting Brian right in his fucking face. There’s a lot more blood suddenly. Brian goes down and then Zoe throws herself in the middle. “Enough!” she practically screams. “All of you fucking knock it off!” 

“Yeah,  _ Quitter,  _ listen to your sister and call off your attack dog.” 

Something twists in Connor’s chest at the idea of Evan being  _ his  _ in some way. It’s short-lived though because Zoe rounds on him, her face twisted in anger. 

“Why do you have to ruin everything for me?” she seethes. “God you are such a fucking asshole.”

Connor’s jaw won’t move to defend himself. It’s like it’s wired shut, like someone glued his teeth together, and he says nothing. 

“They were- they were taking bets about which one of them would nail you!” Evan says, his voice desperate and angry. 

“And, what, you thought if you beat the shit out of them I’d let  _ you _ nail me?” Zoe demands. She’s shouting louder. She’s so angry, angrier than Connor’s seen her in ages, in years. “Fuck you then, you’re no better than they are!” 

Connor’s stomach hollows out. That’s not… that can’t be why Evan went after them, can it? He didn’t get pissed because he wants to fuck Connor’s sister, right? What the fuck?

Zoe turns on her heel, leaving them all there, and Brian and Chad stare at Evan and Connor. 

“Try any of that shit again, new guy, and we’ll fucking end you,” Chad says. 

“You got lucky this time,” Brian says. He points a finger at Connor. “Don’t think we’ll fucking forget this, Quitter. You better watch yourself.” He and Chad stalk off in the direction Zoe went. 

Connor tries to breathe. He hurts all over. Chad and Brian had managed a few punches in the fray. His sides and face and hand all hurt and he’s shaking from head to toe from, Connor doesn’t know, adrenaline and pain? 

“What the fuck?” he asks sort of hollowly. 

Evan shrugs. He’s staring at his shoes, covered in sand with a big smear of blood on the toe of the left shoe. “They keep calling you ‘Quitter,’” Evan says softly. “Why?”

Connor spits, because his mouth is dry and sandy and he bites the inside of his cheek hard. Until he tastes blood. Evan’s still looking at him expectantly, but now is not the time to get into his garbage. “Because I quit going to school with them for a year,” he lies. He looks at Evan. “You trying to get with my sister?”

Evan shakes his head. “Fuck, god, no, I-I mean. Sorry. Just. She’s… she was nice to me and… that’s not why. The way they were talking about her? It was fucking d-disgusting.” He makes some kind of frantic motion with his hands. “And… you know. They just sort of seemed like they deserved to be punched?”

Connor laughs a little. 

“They definitely deserved to be punched,” Connor agrees, smiling a little. He’s wanted to punch those goons since, like, six grade when Chad and Brian filled Connor’s gym locker with maxi pads and tampons, wrote “Connie Murphy is a girl” on his locker in sharpie. Not terribly inventive. 

“Why did you join in?” Evan asks. His voice is small, almost timid. “It wasn’t… you didn’t have to be involved, you…” He swallows hard and Connor gets distracted watching the way the muscles in his neck move. “I don’t get it?”

Connor thinks about telling the truth. That those guys made his life hell for years, that he was so fucking sick of being known as Quitter, that he used to party with them sometimes but they always made sure to let him know he didn’t belong. He doesn’t. He gives Evan a half smile. “Wasn’t about to let you have all the fun.”

Evan laughs, small, humorless. His face pulls tight with pain for just a second. “This your idea of fun?”

Connor shrugs. “I mean, it’s either getting into fights at parties, or, like… shuffleboard.”

Evan stares. “Shuffleboard?”

Connor nods, wiping some blood out of his eyes. He’s not sure whose it is. He tries to think of some other stupid ass, old white people shit. “Maybe croquet. Or, like, bingo night.”

Evan smiles at Connor, this sort of in-on-the-joke smile. “You could take up knitting, maybe?”

Connor feels his spirits soar. “Get really into crossword puzzles.”

“There’s always sudoku.”

“I hear that’s good for the brain,” says Connor, and he’s absolutely smiling all stupid and big now. He nudges Evan with his shoulder. “Should we get out of here?”

“God yes,” Evan says right away, like he’s been waiting to hear that all night.

* * *

Everyone is looking at her, Zoe realizes as she steps out into the party, and she likes it. She’s wearing the outfit she bought when she was shopping with Evan and Heidi earlier, the halter top and the white skirt, but she ditched her bra. 

Boys are all watching her, their eyes glued to her boobs and her butt and her legs. They are pretty long, really, but not spider-like the way Connor’s are. She likes the attention. It’s nice to be the center of attention, Zoe thinks. Unlike at home. She could light the table on fire during dinner and her parents would just calmly put it out with the fire extinguisher and go back to talking about Connor. 

Brian Harris offers to pump the keg for her, but Zoe demures and says she only drinks vodka. Fewer calories, but Zoe doesn’t share that part. Brian smirks at her and leads her into the beach house’s small kitchen where he locates a bottle of vodka buried in the freezer and pours her a drink that is way too fucking strong. Vodka with, like, a drop of cranberry juice. But she smiles and thanks him and takes a sip. 

“Did I hear Quitter’s coming back to school?” Brian asks her, taking a gulp from his beer. 

Zoe sighs. Rolls her eyes. “I don’t want to talk about my freak brother,” she says lightly. “How was your summer?”

Brian starts telling her all about the sailing he did this summer, how his parents are going to buy him a new boat, and Zoe nods along, watching all of the other guys who stop to check her out. She laughs at something Brian says that isn’t even actually funny, then rests a hand on his upper arm and says she should really go find Madison. 

Really though, she’s going to look for Evan. Brian might be popular, but he’s experienced if the rumors are true. Evan’s different. He’s nice. Wholesome, kind of sweet. He wouldn’t make fun of her if she was all fumbling and awkward. 

She and Madison have secretly sworn to cash in their v-cards by the end of the school year. Being a virgin in 2006 is frankly embarrassing. And Zoe wants to lose it, but not to a dude like Brian, who’d probably finish in like five minutes and not care if she bled. No, a nice boy like Evan is a much better choice. 

She doesn’t find Evan playing beer pong or with the guys helping Johnny Lingus do a keg stand. She accidentally interrupts Steph and Omar getting naked in one of the bedrooms, and then happens upon Madison with her brother over on the couches. Tommy’s snorting a line of something and her brain flickers back to Connor’s comment in the car about Tommy’s Xanax problem. Naturally he would know. Freak. 

“Murph!” Madison cries as if she hasn’t seen Zoe in decades, sweeping her into a tight hug that smells like cotton candy body spray and sweat. She’s drunk already. “There’s jello shots!”

Zoe finds those pretty gross, but she still does one when Madison holds one out to her. She doesn’t like needing to basically chew her alcohol. The upside is that whoever made them made them nice and strong. 

“So, who’s the guy you were getting all cozy with in the car?” Madison asks, her eyes big. “He’s… yummy.”

Zoe smiles. “Heidi’s nephew Evan. From Seattle.”

Madison’s brow crinkles slightly. “I thought her nephew was named Aaron?”

Zoe shrugs. 

“Whatever, he’s super cute,” Madison says. “You gonna… you know?” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively. 

“Maybe,” Zoe says coyly. “Brian Harris got me a drink earlier.”

“Oh shit!” Madison laughs. “Isn’t he, like, totally dating Becca?”

Last Zoe heard, yes, but she shrugs like she has no clue. Madison giggles and shoves her saying, “Zoe! You big slut, good for you!” 

They laugh. Tommy asks if either of them want a bump of coke. Madison says yes, but Zoe turns him down. She’s not a stick in the mud, but Connor used to come home all messed up on coke before boarding school and it was not pretty. She’s terrified some of that bullshit and anger might be hereditary and Zoe super doesn’t want to find out. 

Sabrina Patel makes her way over to them. She lost some weight over the summer, and she’s looking cute in a jean jacket and a flowy skirt. “Hey ladies!” she says, brandishing a digital camera. 

“Photos, yes, I need to update my Myspace,” Madison says and Zoe privately agrees because in her last picture you can totally see her toilet in the background. Not cute. 

“Maddie,” Sabrina says awkwardly, tapping herself on the nose. 

Madison wipes her nose frantically. Then she throws her arm around Zoe and the pair of them pose together for Sabrina’s camera, all big smiles. 

“Your tits look great in that top,” Sabrina says appraisingly, showing the photos. Zoe agrees. Her tits do look good in the photo. 

“Zoe’s after Heidi Herzberg’s yummy nephew,” Madison says to Sabrina. 

“Ooh I saw him, he’s cute,” Sabrina says with a smile. 

Zoe smiles. She makes her way to the kitchen with the girls to get another super strong drink. She drinks it quickly while Sabrina details her experiences during her family’s stay at some resort. Apparently she let one of the pool boys finger her on the back of a golf cart.

“Did you like…” Zoe starts, embarrassed but desperate to know, to know what it’s like, if you feel out of control or totally in control, if it’s like in the movies where you just can’t help but be loud. She has no idea but she thinks about it a lot. Thought about it when Evan’s hands were around her waist in the car, when his shaking fingers brushed the back of her neck earlier, and Zoe’s dying to know. 

Sabrina smiles. “Yeah, I mean. I’m pretty sure at least.”

Madison wrinkles her nose. “Shouldn’t you, like, know?”

Sabrina’s cheeks go red. “I mean. I think but… like it’s easier with guys, you know, it’s, like, obvious but...”

Zoe can’t hide her disappointment. “Whatever, I have to pee,” she says, walking away from Sabrina and Maddie and not even heading toward the bathroom. She doesn’t care. She wants to find Evan. Maybe they can make out a little and she can work her way up to it. She heads out by the bonfire, but she doesn’t see him. Instead she bumps into Jared Kleinman. 

“Hey, if it isn’t Baby Quitter.”

Zoe thinks about punching him but knows she’ll fucking pay for it if she does. She can’t just punch someone. She thinks the nickname is sort of awful, even for an asshole like Connor. Clearly he was going through some shit… It wasn’t like he  _ decided  _ to quit school. 

Whatever. 

“Hey Jared,” Zoe says, voice dull. 

“Smoke?” Jared offers her a pack of cigarettes. 

Zoe takes one. Lets him light for her. She doesn’t really like smoking, but he offered her a Camel Crush and those are at least minty. She exhales smoke and asks how his summer was. He tells her all about this camp he was at and this girl he’s apparently dating. “She’s from Israel,” he adds hastily. “So wouldn’t know.”

Sounds an awful lot like “my girlfriend goes to another school, you wouldn’t know her” if you ask Zoe but nobody is. 

“That’s cool,” she says for lack of anything else to contribute. 

“Caught you making eyes at Heidi’s nephew,” Jared drawls. 

Zoe shrugs. 

“Funny though. I thought her nephew’s name was Aaron.”

“Maybe you remembered it wrong,” Zoe says, flicking ash off of her cigarette. 

“Ever known me to be wrong?” Jared sneers and he does have a point. He’s unusually accurate with his gossip. 

“Could be a middle name or something?” Zoe says, trying to keep her tone even. 

“Yeah because Aaron Evan is a good name,” Jared replies with a roll of his eyes. 

Zoe prickles at that. She decides to ignore the jibe. Jared is obviously just wrong about this one. 

“Did I hear Quitter’s coming back to school?” Jared goes on. 

Zoe frowns. How had that gotten out? 

“Ah so it’s true,” he says with a smile. “Our dads work together, don’t forget. Dads talk.” 

Zoe feels like she ought to offer Connor some kind of defense, but then she remembers that he invited himself to this party. So fuck him. “Yeah,” she says, taking another drag. “Got himself kicked out of boarding school.” 

Jared’s eyes flash gleefully. “Oh? What for?”

Zoe shrugs. “I try not to make him my business,” she says trying to sound bored. “Have you seen Evan?” she asks. She’s not going to be able to stay in this conversation. 

“Dude looked like he was about to piss himself when he hightailed it inside after talking to your brother. My money’s on Quitter trying to give him a shovel talk.”

Christ, Zoe’s going to murder Connor if that’s true. “Thanks,” she murmurs, dropping her half smoked cigarette to the sand and stalks off, not bothering to say goodbye to Jared. She needs to go kick her brother’s ass. 

She heads back inside and starts searching for Connor. No luck in the kitchen or living room, so Zoe heads toward the bathroom. 

Naturally that’s where she finds her brother. In a fistfight with Brian and Chad. Fucking hell. And he’s holding Evan back. Evan’s bleeding and looks pissed, almost possessed, his face ugly with anger as he tries to lunge at Brian. 

“What the fuck?” she demands, her blood boiling, and everyone turns to look at her. 

It’s bad. Everyone looks banged up. Evan’s shirt is ripped and bloody. Connor has a bruise forming on his jaw. 

Zoe’s pissed. She is immediately pissed. 

Brian laughs and Connor has to restrain Evan because he looks like he’s about to pounce on Brian. 

“What’s up, Zoe?” Brian says, smiling broadly. There’s blood in his teeth. 

She crosses her arms over her chest. “What the fuck?” She says again, angrier now. 

“This dude just like totally freaked out at us,” Chad says, and he’s pointing at Evan as if Evan started it which seems fucking unlikely. “And Quitter joined in -”

“Fuck you!” Evan snaps. He looks at Zoe. His big, surprised eyes from this afternoon have been replaced by something terrible and angry. Zoe hates them. “They were fucking talking about you like you were a piece of-of meat!”

Zoe hates that so much she could spit. Fuck him. Fuck that. She’s not some damn damsel in distress. “I can handle myself,” she tells Evan. 

Connor gives her a dirty look. “Don’t be a bitch, Zoe.”

Now she just wants to kill Connor, she hates him so much right now she can’t even think straight. “Fucking typical, Connor. Starting a fucking fight the second I turn my back.” She’s so damn mad at him. She can’t let him have one fucking thing without wrecking it. “Why the fuck are you even here, Connor? Nobody wants you here.”

Connor recoils. 

“Yeah, Quitter,” Brian laughs, clearly trying to get a rise out of Connor. Zoe kind of wants to punch him herself. “Who the hell even invited you? Nobody wants to see your ugly fucking face.”

Evan gets free of Connor’s grasp and decks Brian. There’s a waterfall of blood and Brian goes down and Zoe is so fucking over it. “Enough!” she screams, getting in the middle of them. “All of you fucking knock it off!” 

“Yeah,  _ Quitter,  _ listen to your sister and call off your attack dog.” . 

Zoe rounds on Connor, getting up in his face, just screaming at him. She’s so mad she could hit him she could beat the crap out of him she could lose her fucking mind. “Why do you have to ruin everything for me?” She says, “God you are such a fucking asshole.”

Connor doesn’t say anything. 

“They were- they were taking bets about which one of them would nail you!” Evan says, like he’s pleading with her to understand. And that flips another switch in her brain. She hates this guy fuck this guy this is not the boy she invited to this party who was sweet and quiet. 

“And, what, you thought if you beat the shit out of them I’d let  _ you _ nail me?” Zoe demands. She is so not here for that bullshit. She thought Evan was different than all of these morons so fuck him. “Fuck you then, you’re no better than they are!” 

Zoe turns on her heel, leaving them all there, shaking with anger and feeling like she might cry. Why does nothing go her way? Why can’t she have just one damn thing without it all going to shit? She’s in tears before she reaches the end of the hall and she kicks some stupid idiots out of the bedroom who are making out. Once they’re gone, Zoe grabs a pillow and presses it to her face and just screams. Screams and sobs as loud as she can but the pillow holds onto the sound. She hates him she hates Connor and now apparently he’s stolen Evan too made him into a monster like him and she can’t fucking stand it she can’t stand the pain so she screams and screams and screams until her voice gives out. 

Then she wipes her face. Erases the mascara tracks. And heads back into the party, marching right up to Tommy and asking if she can have something. Anything. She doesn’t care she just doesn’t want to fucking feel like this. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "Sugar, We're Going Down" by Fall Out Boy.


	6. Please Don’t Mind What I’m Trying To Say ‘Cause I’m Being Honest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Evan take a long walk. Evan comes clean.

Neither of them have a car, and Evan absolutely does not want to call Heidi for a ride looking like this. Given that Connor doesn’t even float the idea of calling his parents for a ride, Evan’s pretty sure they’re both in the same boat, so…

They’re walking. 

“It’s probably, like, at least half an hour of walking,” Connor says, something apologetic in his voice. “Sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Evan says immediately. He shoves his hands in his pockets and the two of them start walking. 

Neither of them have a lot to say, it seems, but Evan’s mind is racing. 

Connor’s mom hadn’t seemed to like Evan much. 

Granted, it didn’t look like she liked Heidi much, either.

There’s… something going on there. 

Rich people politics. 

Evan thinks back to Heidi’s speech about her husband. About how this was his community. About how she didn’t grow up here. He thinks about how Heidi said she had to navigate keeping kosher at events and how it wasn’t always easy. 

Heidi doesn’t completely belong here. She just hides the not belonging a little bit better than Evan does. 

And Connor…

It’s pretty obvious he’s not one of Newport’s most beloved sons. That he doesn’t fit in here, that he’s different. 

His own sister doesn’t seem to want him around. 

That must hurt. 

Before the party, Zoe had been nice, welcoming, but… Evan doesn’t like how she’d talked about Connor. 

Doesn’t like how  _ any  _ of them talked about Connor. 

Connor’s not like them, sure, but that’s not a bad thing. As far as Evan can tell, it’s a great thing. Not a lot of people would jump in to help someone they literally met the day before in a fight. No one’s  _ ever  _ jumped in to help Evan in a fight before, and he’s been in plenty of fights. 

People tend to enjoy watching him get the shit kicked out of him.

Connor didn’t have to back Evan up, but he did, and it’s left him reeling more than a little because it’s just so unexpected. 

Completely out of the blue. 

He likes it. 

Likes Connor. 

Evan doesn’t really like people, so this is… different. 

Connor’s got his arms wrapped around his torso protectively, like he’s trying to keep himself warm, and Evan notices that he’s shaking a little bit. Guilt curls around his insides. The guy looks tired and pale and his jaw is definitely swollen and Evan catches a glimpse of Connor’s knuckles, bruised and bloody. 

Fuck. 

This is his fault, fuck. 

Evan got him hurt, got him injured, it’s Evan’s fault. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

It’s starting to sink in now, just how much Evan has fucked up here. 

He looks down to see that his shirt is just… ruined, covered in blood. A couple of buttons have been ripped off. The pants and the jacket are dusty and covered in fuck knows what and there’s blood on his shoes, he doesn’t know what he’s going to do how he’s going to fix this. 

Heidi paid for this suit, and this is the thanks he gives her? 

This is what he does to say thank you?

He’s a fucking asshole, a complete and total fuckup, Heidi should kick him out of her house. She’s going to kick him out of her house. 

And he’ll have nowhere to go. 

He could go back to Mark and Elaine’s, but he knows that if he pushes his dad too far, he’ll get a punch in the face for his troubles. Possibly worse, considering that Elaine’s pissed enough to kick him out. 

He could sleep in the library, but after a few days he’ll start to smell, and he’ll have no way to bathe, no way to get clean and it’s hot in California in August, it’s hot and he’ll be sweaty and disgusting and they’ll notice he’s there and ban him from the premises. 

Evan’s fucked this up. 

He’s fucked it all up. 

He’s going to be homeless, and because he’s homeless they won’t be able to contact him to find out when his hearing is, so he’ll miss it and he’ll automatically have a warrant out for his arrest because of it, and he’ll get thrown in jail. 

He’ll end up in jail no matter what, because when Heidi finds out what happened, she’ll take him back to the detention center and he’ll stay there until he’s sentenced and she won’t want to be his lawyer anymore or she won’t argue it properly because he ruined everything for her and he’s fucked, he’s totally fucked, his miserable life is completely over because he can’t fucking keep it together he’s such a fuck up such a fuck up fuck up fuck up fuck up-

Evan’s not breathing right. He’s gasping for air. 

He hadn’t even fucking noticed. 

Oh god. 

Oh god oh god oh god.

Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod-

“Evan. Evan, hey.”

He can’t breathe he can’t breathe he can’t breathe oh god oh god oh god-

There are hands on his shoulders. Connor’s face swims in front of him, hazy and concerned, those expressive eyes totally focused on him. 

It takes a while for Evan to tune into what’s being said. 

“... breathe in slowly, with me, yeah? Breathing in… breathing out.”

Evan tries to focus. Takes in a ragged breath and releases it. 

“That’s good,” Connor says, something encouraging in his voice. “You got this. Let’s try it again, yeah?”

Evan does as instructed. 

Tries to focus. 

Slowly, slowlyslowlyslowly, he finds himself coming back to reality. 

He’s so tired. 

So fucking tired. 

Connor’s face is pale and worried. “Are you okay, man?”

Evan shakes his head. “No. No, I’m fucked, I… I fucked it up, I fucked it up so badly, Connor.”

Connor’s frown deepens. “Are you worried about your aunt freaking out about the fight?”

“She’s not my aunt,” Evan confesses. 

He closes his eyes. 

He can’t look at Connor. 

“Okay,” says Connor, sounding confused. 

Evan feels his shoulders sag. “She’s my lawyer,” he says quietly, still with his eyes shut tight. “I got arrested the night before I met you. My… my dad’s girlfriend’s kid? He stole a car. Dragged me along with him to play lookout because I’m so  _ fucking  _ pathetic I’ll do something so-so-so st-st-stupid just so I don’t have to be alone.”

Connor doesn’t say anything. 

Evan opens his eyes, half expecting Connor to have just… left. 

Left him in the middle of an unfamiliar street in an unfamiliar town because he’s such a fucking freak. 

But Connor’s still there, his mouth open slightly, his eyes big as he takes Evan in. 

“Fuck,” Connor says, his voice barely above a whisper. “Evan, I’m so sorry.”

Evan sniffs. Wipes his face, then regrets it because it hurts. 

Everywhere hurts. 

He’s so tired. 

He can’t let this guy he’s just met see him meltdown. 

“My dad’s girlfriend made him kick me out,” Evan confesses quietly. “And I didn’t have anywhere else to go. So I called Ms. Herzberg.” He shrugs. Runs his hand through his hair absently. His whole head hurts. Aches. 

He might have a concussion, he thinks. 

Nothing new, just… inconvenient. 

“Heidi’s your lawyer,” Connor says quietly. “She’s helping you out because you got kicked out.” He lets out this quiet laugh. “That sounds like something David would do.”

Evan looks at Connor immediately. “Really?”

Connor nods. “Yeah.” His face twists a little. “David was that kind of guy. He’d give you the clothes off his back without even batting an eye. He was a great person. Always nice to me.” Connor nods again. “Heidi’s nice, too. She…” He trails off. Looks at his shoes, then back at Evan. “If you don’t have anywhere else to go, she won’t kick you out.”

Evan shakes his head. “You don’t know that.”

Connor just looks at him. “Not for sure,” he admits. “But I have known Heidi for as long as I can remember. And I don’t think she’d kick you out.” He smiles a little. “Might give you hell for getting into a fight, though.”

Evan sighs. “Oh my fucking god, I’m such a fucking idiot.”

They stand there on the side of the road together for a while. 

“Hey,” Connor says finally. “The dashboard story was true, then?”

Evan laughs a little at that. “Yeah. No trees involved, sorry.”

Connor laughs a little too. Just a little. He fixes Evan with this intense look, like he’s trying to read Evan’s mind. “Why’d you tell everyone you were Heidi’s nephew?”

Evan shrugs. “Zoe assumed that’s who I was, so I just… went with it.” He tries to smile and fails. “Figured it’d be easier on Heidi this way.”

He looks at his shoes. Doesn’t look up until Connor speaks again. 

“So why tell  _ me _ the truth?”

Connor’s expression is genuinely curious. 

Evan looks at him and blinks. Blinks again. 

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I just… you’re not so easy to lie to. I don’t know why.”

Something in Connor’s face twists, flashes with an emotion Evan can’t read. He lets out a long breath.

“Come on,” he says quietly. “Let’s keep moving, yeah?”

* * *

Connor doesn’t have a car. Well, technically, his parents bought him a Volvo when he passed his driving test at the start of the summer, but it’s just sitting unused in their garage at home. He hasn’t been trusted to actually drive it. 

Either way, no use here.

Despite what his dad said earlier, Connor knows there’s no fucking way he’s calling home for a ride. Larry might be trying for Father of the Year right now, but Connor knows better than to push it. 

So he and Evan are walking. 

“It’s probably, like, at least half an hour of walking,” Connor says, feeling embarrassed by this fact but it’s not like Evan’s volunteered to give Heidi a call anyway. “Sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Evan says quickly. He pushes his hands into his pockets and they start off together. 

It’s quiet. 

Connor wraps his arms around himself because it’s pretty cold and also he’s embarrassed by the way his hands are still shaking. He doesn’t want to look like a pussy in front of Evan. Really, they don’t know each other. He wants to hold onto the reputation of being somewhat tough in front of Evan. 

Connor’s thinking about how he’s absolutely made Monday at school into a fucking nightmare. He probably shouldn’t have left Zoe alone at that party, but he couldn’t imagine convincing her to take this walk home with them. She’d go postal at the mere suggestion. 

Zoe was drunk earlier. Back at the fashion show. She’s definitely still drunk now. Half naked in that fucking outfit. More than half, if Connor thinks about it. Ugh, what does she think she’s doing, dressing all skanky like that? She’s gonna get herself in deep shit if their parents find out. Or worse if the assholes at school start noticing. Start coming on to her. Fuck, that’s disgusting, the idea of Brian or Chad or any of those fuckheads touching her or kissing her or whatever. 

Ugh, patriarchal bullshit or not, Connor hates it. And he bets if he told Alana about it, she’d back him up. Offer some citation to a feminist scholar or something. 

Maybe he should have just escaped the show earlier with Alana and stayed out. They could have seen a movie instead of Connor having to deal with this shit. He’d have let her ramble about body image. He thinks she’s super smart, even if people at school find her overachiever thing annoying. Like her parents are legacies at both Harvard  _ and  _ Yale. She could slack off and still get in if she wants. 

If he were fucking normal, he’d have asked her out, of course. 

But he’s not normal, much to his mom’s continued disappointment, and he’s got like. Zero interest in girls. At least not like that. 

Also Alana Beck is a lesbian so. 

At least at Hanover, he wasn’t the only one. M made sure of that. Announced he was gay and proud of it on the first day of first semester last year, shared it as a funfact when he introduced himself to their Trig class. And Connor’s heart had leapt out of his chest, his head had spun, and his own fun fact (“I’m from California.”) felt especially shallow and stupid and not really about him at all. 

Miguel is just, like, such a real person. No bullshit. He doesn’t hide himself the way Connor does. The way M swears other people do. He says stuff like, almost poetic stuff, about how he’s “incapable of a false moment” and Connor used to find that insane, used to find it charming and perfect. 

Until M stopped returning his calls over the summer, the radio silence stretching out louder and louder as the months passed. 

Fat lot of thanks Connor got for trying to help the guy out. 

Fuck, why’s he thinking about M right now anyway? He’s walking home with Evan. Evan, who is cute and hates the Newport Neanderthals as much as Connor does. Evan, who can not only throw a punch but take one too. He’d gone down hard when Connor was watching, but he didn’t like. Go limp. Let them hurt him. No, he’s scrappy, he got back up and started wailing on those dudes the second Connor jumped in to pull Chad off of him and it’s… Stupidly hot. Like, who knew anger could be sexy? Connor could have watched Evan fight all night long, watched it like some kind of violence porn or something, he didn’t know he just knows he likes the flash of rage in Evan’s eyes, that spark of anger, the way he closes his fist tightly before administering a blow to a future frat asshole. And sure, like, violence is bad and everything but it was kind of mesmerizing. 

Connor’s so lost in his thoughts about how unbelievably attractive Evan is that it takes him a minute to sense the change in the air, notice the shift. 

Evan’s gasping for breath a few steps behind him, his eyes huge and terrified, and he’s shaking like a leaf. His breathing is rapid, shallow, and Connor knows this. He’s fucking hyperventilating. He’s fucking panicking, and Connor knows this, knows this feeling, he was diagnosed with panic attacks back in, like, sixth grade because they’d get him too, grab him with their cold damp fingers and pull him under, make it hard to breathe and think and move. 

Fuck okay. 

Connor needs to do something before Evan, like, passes out and smacks his head on the road. Or whatever. He doesn’t want Evan to get hurt. 

“Evan. Evan, hey.”

Evan’s eyes are big and unfocused and his breathing continues to be rapid and shallow and kinda scary, really. 

Connor places his hands on Evan’s shoulders, trying to be, like. Steadying. Grounding or whatever. 

Evan’s looking at him but he’s not really looking at him, Connor can tell. He’s been there. He keeps talking, telling Evan to focus on his breath, focus on slowing it down, but it’s not slowing at all so Connor grips the guy’s shoulders a little more forcefully. 

“Right, okay, so just. We’re gonna breathe together for a minute, okay? Just like... breathe in slowly, with me, yeah? Breathing in… breathing out.”

Evan’s eyes lock more clearly with Connor’s. He takes a slightly slower, deeper breath in. 

“That’s good,” Connor says, trying to be like, he doesn’t know, reassuring or whatever the fuck. He keeps going, breathing exaggeratedly slow for Evan’s benefit. “You got this. Let’s try it again, yeah?”

Evan listens to Connor, and they just stand there, breathing together, for a few minutes. Cars pass by on the somewhat abandoned road, headlights catching them. Evan’s breaths slow. His eyes get less wild, settling back into something more guarded, but not quite to the level it was the other night, “Are you okay, man?”

Evan shakes his head, something almost frantic in the motion. “No. No, I’m fucked, I… I fucked it up, I fucked it up so badly, Connor.”

Connor’s frowning. It wasn’t that bad. Heidi’s cool, she’s not gonna be super pissed about a fight probably. “Are you worried about your aunt freaking out about the fight?”

“She’s not my aunt,” Evan admits, his eyes closing tight.

“Okay?” Connor’s confused. He thought… He said his parents were in Europe, Heidi was his aunt, that’s what he said.

Evan’s shoulders drop. “She’s my lawyer,” he says, his voice quiet. Soft. Almost a whisper. Connor blinks in surprise. Heidi’s his lawyer? But she’s a public defender, that’s what his dad said when she left his firm, she was going to do public defense work. “I got arrested the night before I met you. My… my dad’s girlfriend’s kid? He stole a car. Dragged me along with him to play lookout because I’m so  _ fucking  _ pathetic I’ll do something so-so-so st-st-stupid just so I don’t have to be alone.”

Holy shit. 

Holy shit. 

Connor… He’s surprised, absolutely, but. Arrested. For stealing a car. Holy shit that’s… 

Well some dumbass part of Connor’s brain thinks it’s kind of badass, but the more reasonable part is just. Sad. Because, fuck, like, that cannot have been for an awesome experience. And if Evan’s got a public defender, he’s clearly… He’s clearly in deep shit. Like, this isn’t some slap on the wrist. That’s bad, this is really not great, and Connor let Evan get into a stupid fucking fight no wonder he’s freaking out, god Connor’s an asshole. 

His mind flashes to M’s terrified face when they were waiting outside the Headmaster’s office at Hanover, whispering that they’d revoke his scholarship and he’d worked so hard to get into a good school so he could make it out of his neighborhood and how he’d ruined everything just by getting caught with some weed. 

Connor’s mind remembers his next words, said without much calculation beforehand. “Say it’s mine. I’ll take the fall.”

Evan opens his eyes, almost cautiously, taking Connor in. 

Connor’s mouth is just hanging open because he has no idea what to say. “Fuck,” Connor settles on, feeling awful. Guilty. He shouldn’t have let Evan get in a fight like that. He should have pulled him off and dragged him away. “Evan, I’m so sorry.”

Evan sniffles and runs a hand over his face roughly, his eyes squeezing tight again for a second. 

“My dad’s girlfriend made him kick me out,” Evan tells Connor in that same quiet voice. Connor feels his insides seize coldly at the thought. “And I didn’t have anywhere else to go. So I called Ms. Herzberg.” He shrugs and runs his hand through his hair, almost absently, and Connor just. Feels like a shithead. Should have done more, he should have done more. Fuck, this poor kid’s been through hell this week. Connor should have known somehow, should have done more to look out for him, he shouldn’t have let this shit happen.

“Heidi’s your lawyer,” Connor says, thinking out loud. “She’s helping you out because you got kicked out.” That’s a David move, really. When Connor was thirteen, David caught Connor smoking a cigarette in the backyard. He bummed one and the two of them talked about, like, a poem David liked by some French guy. Connor had been convinced he was so busted, was totally sure David would march him right back to his parents’ house and tell them everything. He didn’t. He just told Connor he really shouldn’t be smoking when he was that young. Connor laughs a little. “That sounds like something David would do.”

Evan looks surprised. “Really?”

Connor nods. “Yeah.” He bites the inside of his cheek. “David was that kind of guy. He’d give you the clothes off his back without even batting an eye. He was a great person. Always nice to me.” Connor nods to himself.. “Heidi’s nice, too. She…” He glances down at his shoes, sandy and flecked with blood. God, he hopes Heidi will be cool about this. She’s normally cool. If she kicks Evan out after this, Connor will never forgive her. She can’t just cut this guy loose. “If you don’t have anywhere else to go, she won’t kick you out.”

Evan shakes his head, looking especially downtrodden. “You don’t know that.”

Connor looks back at Evan. “Not for sure,” he concedes, shrugging a bit. “But I have known Heidi for as long as I can remember. And I don’t think she’d kick you out.” He tries to give Evan a lighthearted, encouraging smile. “Might give you hell for getting into a fight, though.”

Evan sighs heavily, eyes down. He looks so defeated. “Oh my fucking god, I’m such a fucking idiot.”

They don’t move for a little while, silence only broken by the gentle wind and the crash of waves distantly on the beach behind them. Connor searches for something to say. Something reassuring but not, like, pitying or any of that shit. He just… he knows he ought to say something. 

“Hey,” Connor says after several moments have stretched on. “The dashboard story was true, then?”

Evan laughs slightly, one of his hard won, choking laughs. “Yeah. No trees involved, sorry.”

Connor laughs, thinking about this. He doesn’t understand though. Why tell such an easily revealed lie? “Why’d you tell everyone you were Heidi’s nephew?”

Evan shrugs, not meeting Connor’s eye. “Zoe assumed that’s who I was, so I just… went with it.” He lifts part of his mouth into an almost smile. “Figured it’d be easier on Heidi this way.”

Evan’s eyes drop to his shoes. That’s… kind. But stupid. Connor can respect that decision though. He can understand the impulse to lie to keep people comfortable or happy. 

“So why tell  _ me _ the truth?” There it is, the crux of it. Why the hell would he tell Connor the truth now, why would he tell Connor the truth at all? They don’t know each other. They don’t owe each other anything. 

Evan blinks a few times. 

“I don’t know,” he says eventually. “I just… you’re not so easy to lie to. I don’t know why.”

Connor doesn’t think that’s true at all. People are always fucking with him. He was still falling for “there’s gullible written on the ceiling” shit until, like middle school.

“Come on,” Connor says, his voice quiet. “Let’s keep moving, yeah?”

Evan agrees. 

They reach the entrance to the gated community where Connor’s parents and Heidi live. Evan looks alarmed at the security guard, and Connor tells him not to sweat it, because this part he knows. He’s done it a million times. 

He leads Evan around. Evan’s watching him carefully, and Connor murmurs, “Trust me.” 

They reach the spot Connor was looking for, right in the Wallaces’ backyard. A loose column in the gate that Connor found in middle school. The gate is totally just for show. Nobody is maintaining it. The loose part is the result of years of rust. Connor gives it a slight tug, and it comes free immediately, providing an opening approximately the size of a teenage boy. 

Evan gives Connor a relieved looking smile. He steps through the gap in the gate, and Connor follows. He replaces the loose gate column, wedging it back in tightly. 

“Come on,” he says to Evan, and he leads them out of the Wallaces’ backyard, creeping around their swimming pool.

Evan’s staring at the pool strangely. He’s slowed down. 

“Dude, come on, you wanna go swimming we can do it at my house,” Connor whispers. 

Evan looks at him sharply. He shakes his head, follows Connor out of the yard. 

Evan falls into step beside Connor and the pair of them escape through the Wallaces’ hedges and out onto the sidewalk. 

Evan looks at Connor, something troubled in his expression, but he’s not volunteering whatever is on his mind. Connor goes into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulls out the pack of cigarettes he swiped at the party. He takes one, lights it, and then hands the lit cigarette to Evan. 

Evan watches him suspiciously as Connor lights a second for himself. 

“What?” Connor says, shrugging. “Your hands are shaking.”

Evan almost smiles. He takes a drag on his smoke, and Connor tries not to let himself get pulled in by the fact that Evan’s lips are right where Connor’s just were. 

“Can I ask something?” Connor asks as they turn onto Magnolia Street. 

Evan nods. 

“You’re not from Seattle, are you?” Evan shakes his head. “Well. Where are you from?”

Evan stares at their shadows for a few strides. “Mark and Elaine live in Chino,” he says after a long moment. It feels significant to Connor that he doesn’t say he’s from there. 

“Fuck,” Connor says. “I see why you lied.” He doesn’t mean it to be rude, just. Kids around here? You’d be better off to say you grew up in a box on the side of Sunset Boulevard than admit to being from somewhere as unglamorous as Chino. 

Evan flicks ash off the end of his cigarette. Says nothing. Connor notices he’s sort of limping and he feels like such an asshole. Those shoes are new. Evan’s probably given himself a bunch of blisters doing all of this walking. Fuck. 

“Next time,” he says, trying to do what he can, “Wear a second pair of socks. And put a bandaid or some tape on the back of your foot and the side of your big toe. When you break new shoes in. Your feet will reek, but you won’t get as many blisters.”

Evan just looks at him. “That’s optimistic,” he says quietly. 

“You want me to go in with you?” Connor offers, knowing it’s a cold comfort, knowing it’s not enough that he can’t fix it. “We can tell Heidi I started the fight, that you were just backing me up.”

“I’m not gonna lie to her,” Evan replies. 

“She’d buy it,” Connor says, almost pleading, trying to find some way to help, to make things less… terrible. Evan’s the first person who he’s met around here who hasn’t hated him on sight and some very selfish part of Connor wants to hang on to that with both hands. “Trust me, this is hardly the first time I’ve gotten into it with those dickheads.”

* * *

Heidi’s waiting up for Evan. It feels a little weird, but she’s doing it, because now that she’s sobered up a little, she’s starting to think that maybe letting the teenager she met in jail go to a party was a bad idea. 

A potentially incredibly stupid idea.

She’s spent the last few hours just kind of… chilling out. Had a long bath, then got into comfortable sweatpants, swapped her contacts for glasses and just watched bad reality TV until she heard the door sometime around two am. 

She stands up and heads out to the foyer and her heart immediately leaps into her throat, threatening to choke her when she sees the state of Evan. His shirt is covered in blood and ripped and he’s limping and the black eye is visible again, only this time it’s worse. 

Standing next to him is an equally disheveled Connor Murphy. 

Her stomach churns uncomfortably. There’s this cold feeling clawing at her insides. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

“Are you okay?” she says immediately, rushing over to Evan. “What happened?”

“It’s my fault-” Connor begins, but Evan cuts him off. 

“Not his fault,” says Evan firmly. “I was stupid, I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.”

“What happened?” Heidi asks again, moving closer so she can check out Evan’s injuries. He’s swaying a little on his feet but he doesn’t smell like alcohol, so she doesn’t think he’s drunk, but his eyes are a little hazy and he’s shaking and he’s pale and Heidi immediately fears the worst.

“I got into a fight,” Connor says in a rush. “With some assholes from my old… from school, and Evan stood up for me. I’m so fucking sorry, I shouldn’t have let him get involved.”

“He’s full of shit,” says Evan, and his eyes are unfocused and he looks like he might throw up. “Other way round, he stood up for me-”

“That’s not what happened,” Connor says stubbornly, but Heidi’s known this kid since he was in diapers and she’s seen him get caught in enough dumb lies growing up to know when he’s being dishonest. 

Evan blinks. Shakes his head. 

Then violently throws up on the floor. 

Connor swears under his breath. 

“I’m sorry,” Evan says, his voice weak and rough and so fucking sad. “I’m so fucking sorry, oh my god, I can just go I’ll go just let me get my bag-”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Connor says fiercely. He fixes Heidi with this pleading look. Her chest gets tighter and tighter. “You can’t just kick him out, Heidi, he doesn’t have anywhere else to go, you can’t-”

“It’s okay,” Evan interrupts, still in that weak, rough voice. “It’s okay, I know I fucked up, I fucked it all up-”

“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” Heidi interrupts. She moves closer and puts a gentle, cautious hand on Evan’s shoulder. “Then we’ll get you patched up, okay? It’s going to be alright.”

Connor takes Evan’s other side and the two of them manage to get Evan up the stairs and into the room he’s staying in. Once they’re in the room, Heidi helps him out of the suit jacket, which seems to snap him out of the daze he’s in. His cheeks go red, so red they’re almost purple, and he mutters something then snatches his bag from the corner of the room and disappears into the ensuite bathroom, closing the door behind him quickly. 

Heidi looks at Connor. Her next words come out harsher than she means them to. 

“I need you to be honest with me. Did you two take anything?”

Connor’s eyes go wide. “No. No, I  _ swear, _ Heidi. We only had, like, one beer.” He looks young and scared. “I don’t know what’s wrong, I don’t-”

“Did he get hit in the head?” Heidi interrupts briskly. “During the fight?”

Connor goes pale. “I think so. Is he going to be okay?”

“I think he’s concussed,” Heidi says, fighting to keep her voice even, fighting to keep from completely losing it. Everything inside her is screaming that she needs to get him to a hospital this second, but the chances are it’ll just make things worse for him. 

A whole lot worse for him. 

Especially since she put off calling child services because she thought she could keep him safe. Thought she could keep him out of trouble. 

Fuck, what if this means they won’t let her keep him? Won’t let him stay with her because she’s unfit to care for him?

“You’re supposed to, like, wake people up when they have concussion,” Connor says, his voice urgent. “Right? I can stay, I can do that.”

“I’ve got this,” Heidi says firmly. “You need to get home.”

Connor shakes his head. “I can’t just leave-”

_ “Connor.” _

He goes quiet. Looks at Heidi with big, scared eyes.

She could swear he’s wearing eyeliner. 

“I’ve got this,” Heidi says, as patiently as he can. “You need to go home.”

Connor blinks. His shoulders sag. “You can’t kick him out,” he says again, something desperate in his voice. “ _ Please _ don’t kick him out.”

It takes Heidi a moment to realize that somehow Connor’s figured out that Evan’s not her nephew, despite Evan’s commitment to making sure no one found out. 

What the hell happened at this party?

“Go home, Connor,” she says firmly. “Your parents will be worried.”

Connor blinks rapidly. Heidi’s hit with the realization that he’s trying not to cry. He ducks his head, letting his hair fall in front of his face, hiding it from her view. Sniffs. Mumbles goodbye, then slowly leaves the room, shooting one last glance at the bathroom door. 

Heidi sits on the edge of Evan’s bed and tries to get her racing heart under control. 

Fuck. 

When she’s collected herself a little, she knocks on the bathroom door. “Evan? You doing okay?”

After a moment, the door opens tentatively to reveal Evan in sweatpants and a white wifebeater. His eyes are red and Heidi’s chest twists uncomfortably. 

He’s been crying. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, poor kid. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice small. He looks so damn young. 

He’s just a kid. 

Just a kid who’s been dealt a bad hand. 

“I think you’ve got a concussion,” Heidi says, her voice gentle. “So when you’re feeling up to it, let’s head back down to the living room, okay? You can sleep there and I can keep an eye on you. Make sure you’re doing okay.”

Evan blinks. Looks at his feet. 

He’s taken off his socks and she can see painful looking blisters. 

“I’ll grab a first aid kit,” she says, looking back at his face. “And we’ll patch you up, okay?”

He finally meets her gaze. His eyes are still a little unfocused, but clearer than they were. And just…

So damn sad. 

“You should kick me out,” he says quietly. “I fucked it up, I fucked everything up.”

“Tell me about the fight,” she says instead. “Who were you fighting, exactly?”

Evan shrugs. “I don’t know their names.” His expression clouds over. “The first guy bet the second guy two grand he could have sex with Zoe tonight. Called her… a bunch of stuff I’m not going to repeat.”

Heidi feels her own shoulders tense. “So you punched them?”

The corner of Evan’s mouth curves up a little. “First I told them to shut the fuck up.”

Heidi tries not to smile at that. She’s trying to be a responsible adult here and set a good example but honestly?

If she’d overheard that, she’d have considered throwing a punch, too. 

“I’m guessing the diplomacy route didn’t go so well.”

Evan’s tentative smile drops. “It was two against one,” he says quietly. “Connor pulled one of the guys off me. He didn’t have to get involved but he… he helped me.” He looks at Heidi, something questioning in his expression. “Didn’t know Zoe had a brother. You didn’t mention him.”

“Connor’s been out of town,” Heidi says, by way of explanation. She considers her next words carefully. “Connor… look, I’ve known him for a long time and deep down, he’s a good kid, but he has a tendency of getting into trouble.” She fixes Evan with a look. “And you should probably try to avoid getting into more trouble. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Evan tilts his head a little. “Are you telling me I can’t be friends with him?” he asks bluntly.

“I’m not saying that,” Heidi says, even though as she says it, she’s not sure she’s being completely honest. “I’m just saying to be smart about things. Okay?”

Evan’s expression shuts down. He shrugs. Nods. “Yeah. Okay.”

It’s a long night for Heidi. 

Heidi gets Evan settled on the couch and he curls up into a ball protectively, holding onto a pillow like a teddy bear. 

He looks almost impossibly young in his sleep. 

She cleans up the puke in the foyer, then settles into an armchair and keeps watch. Wakes Evan every few hours to make sure he’s okay, pulls out her laptop and looks up symptoms of concussion and makes sure she’s doing all the right things. She hopes she is. 

Taking him to the hospital would mean it was on record and if that happened, it could affect his case. Which could lead to him having to spend time in juvie and Heidi absolutely does not want that for this kid. 

Even if apparently he’s trying to send her to an early grave, fucking hell. 

Evan sleeps and Heidi watches and worries. 

Worries about the fact that he got into a fight, the fact that he doesn’t seem to care that he’s got a concussion, the fact that he tried to argue with her that he could just set an alarm to wake himself up every two hours because that’s what he did every other time. 

Every other time. 

Fuck. 

Fucking hell. 

Heidi keeps picturing Connor’s face, the look in his eyes as he’d begged Heidi not to kick Evan out. She hasn’t seen Connor since before David died. 

She remembers the last time she saw Connor very clearly. 

She remembers being curled up on the sofa with David, watching Jurassic Park for the thousandth time, and hearing the front door open. 

David had paused the movie immediately. Frowned, and gotten up, telling Heidi to stay where she was, which she had completely ignored, because if there was some kind of fucking intruder in her house, she sure as hell wasn’t letting David face it alone. 

Connor had been standing there in the doorway, swaying visibly, looking very, very confused. “We have new carpet?” he’d said, his voice slurred. 

“Connor?” David asked, his voice cautious. “You okay, buddy?”

Connor had blinked then, slow like molasses, and had fixed David with a look. “You don’t live here.”

“I’m afraid I do,” said David kindly. “Looks like you’ve come up the wrong driveway.”

Connor blinked again. “Wrong driveway?”

“Wrong driveway, wrong door.”

Connor had stared for what felt like a long time, then started to laugh. This cold, dead sounding laugh that Heidi still shudders at the thought of. “Makes sense. I always get it wrong. Everything’s always wrong with me. Wrong door, wrong person… don’t belong anywhere. Always wrong.”

“Good party?” Heidi had asked then, a little more harsh than she’d meant to.

David had shot her a warning look, then turned back to Connor. 

“Let’s get you some water, yeah? See if we can get you a bit more steady before we send you home.” 

Connor had blinked again, then again, then his whole face had crumbled. “Nothing… nothing’s steady, nothing… never steady, not steady. I’m…” He’d fixed Heidi with a look then. “Bad party. All parties are… bad parties, I make them bad because I’m… bad at all of it.”

“Come on,” David had said, a little more firmly. He’d looped his arm around Connor’s shoulder, then escorted him through the house and to the kitchen. 

Heidi vividly remembers David making Connor a peanut butter sandwich and carefully making sure he ate it, then making him drink a few glasses of water for good measure. Connor had just kind of gone along with it, his shoulders drooping, going through the motions like some kind of robot, and Heidi remembers just how thin he’d looked. 

How thin and tired and… dead behind the eyes. 

David had taken him home. Later on he’d told her that he’d walked Connor all the way home and helped him inside, through the house and into his bedroom, making sure he got there safely. When he’d arrived back home, he was wearing a deep frown and looked more than a little concerned. 

“I don’t think he’s okay, Heidi.”

“He’s partying too hard,” Heidi had said then. “Larry and Cynthia need to keep a tighter rein on him.”

David had shaken his head. “It’s not just that,” he’d said, something cautious in his voice. “There’s something else going on with him.” He’d looked so sad. “He’s always been different. I’m worried about him. It’s not easy growing up different around here.”

Heidi hadn’t been as sympathetic. “His parents are loaded, the maid does his laundry, he has everything he could ever want. Everything about his life is easy.”

David had frowned even deeper then. Opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but thought better of it and kept his mouth shut. 

Heidi’s always wondered what it was he wanted to say. 

She’d never asked him, though, because a month later, David died. 

David died, and Connor disappeared off to boarding school in New Hampshire, and the two events aren’t related at all, but…

Heidi looks at Evan, curled up on the sofa, holding himself protectively. 

He doesn’t need any more complications in his life. 

And making friends with Connor Murphy definitely counts as a complication. 

Evan’s sound asleep when the sun comes up. Heidi definitely isn’t. 

She’s trying to figure out what the best next move is. If there is a best next move. 

She sits on the sofa in the living room until it’s fully light outside, then stands up and goes to get her phone. It’s not too early, she reasons. 

She dials a number she hasn’t called in over a year. 

Larry Murphy sounds surprised when he answers the phone. “Hello?”

“Larry, hi,” says Heidi, her voice quiet. “It’s Heidi. I, uh… look, I’m sorry to call so early.”

“Is everything okay?”

Heidi considers. “I don’t know,” she says in a rush. “I… shit, I’m sorry.” 

Larry sounds genuinely concerned now. “What’s going on?”

“There was a fight at the party last night,” Heidi says, feeling something in her stomach churn with guilt. “Connor and Evan were involved. Evan has a concussion, I’ve been up all night watching him to make sure he’s okay. Connor keeps saying that it was his fault, but so does Evan… they both just seem determined to cover for each other and I’m freaking out.”

“Evan’s your nephew from Seattle?” Larry asks. 

Heidi closes her eyes tightly. “That’s what we told people,” she says quietly. “But no, he’s not, he’s…”

There’s silence on the line for a moment. 

Larry’s always been smart. It doesn’t take him long to figure it out. 

“Jesus  _ Christ _ , Heidi. You didn’t.”

“He’s one of my clients,” she confirms. “His dad’s girlfriend’s kid got him busted for stealing a car. Spent a night in jail, then when I got him released, his dad kicked him out because the girlfriend was pissed about it.” She sighs. “Larry, he’s just a kid. He had nowhere else to go.”

“Child services exist for a reason,” Larry says immediately. She can hear the frown in his voice. 

“They’ll keep him in juvie until the hearing,” Heidi counters. “He doesn’t deserve that.” She sighs. “He doesn’t deserve his life. His mom died when he was seven, he bounced around foster care until they finally tracked down his dad, who is a real piece of work it sounds like. Evan’s a smart kid. 98th percentile in test scores. A kid like that? He deserves a chance to have a better life. He deserves someone to look out for him.”

Larry’s quiet for a moment. 

“I saw Zoe making eyes at him last night,” he says finally, sounding frustrated. “You didn’t think it might be useful to tell her that she’s flirting with a criminal?”

“He was in the passenger seat when his step-brother stole a car,” Heidi shoots back. “If he grew up around here, it’d be swept under the rug so quickly no one would even know it had ever happened. You  _ know  _ that, Larry.” She takes a breath, then continues. “He just needs a chance. Needs someone to actually give a damn about him, for once in his life.”

“So, what, you’re going to adopt him?” Larry replies. “Enroll him at school with my kids?”

“I’ve already talked to Gary Sanson,” Heidi says immediately. “Evan’s going to that school on Monday. Even if he’s only here for a couple of weeks, he has the right to an education.” She straightens her shoulders as she finally says out loud what’s been going through her head ever since she first picked Evan up. “And I’m going to do everything I can to make sure he has a future.”

There’s silence on the other end of the line for a moment. 

Then a sigh. 

“If you really think he can keep his head down and stay out of trouble,” Larry begins slowly, “then I can’t blame you for wanting to help.” He laughs a little. “David would be proud of you. This is exactly his MO.”

“He was doing pretty well at staying out of trouble,” Heidi says cautiously. “And then he met your son.”

More silence. 

“I heard he got kicked out of boarding school,” says Heidi when the silence gets too much for her. “Care to share why?”

Larry stays quiet for a moment. “Pot,” he says finally. “It was just pot this time.”

Heidi rolls her eyes. “Well, that’s something, I guess.”

“Connor’s trying,” says Larry, something firm in his voice. “He’s not a bad kid, Heidi, he’s trying, he…”

Larry trails off. 

Heidi lets out a sigh. “I’m not here to critique your parenting skills,” she says, even though as she says it she’s not sure if she means it. “I just think that maybe Connor and Evan don’t exactly bring out the best in each other. They’d barely known each other for a few hours before getting into a fight together.”

“Connor hasn’t gone anywhere all summer,” Larry counters. “He’s been keeping his head down, staying home.” He sighs. “You might not be wrong.”

Heidi sighs. “I feel like an asshole,” she confesses. “Connor seems to be pretty fond of Evan and I know he’s had difficulty making friends in the past. But I want Evan to have a chance. I don’t want him stuck in foster care for the next two years, I want to give him a chance to make a life for himself.”

Larry hmms a little. He sounds almost sad. 

“I’ll talk to him,” he says after a moment. Then he clears his throat. “I’m assuming we’re sticking with the nephew story around the community.”

“For now,” says Heidi reluctantly. “The only people who know the truth are you, me, Connor and Evan.” She bites her lip. “It might be easier to keep it that way.”

Another pause, then Larry speaks. “I agree.”

Heidi sighs again. “I’m not going to ask you to lie to your wife, but…”

“I don’t think she’d handle it well,” says Larry diplomatically. “For now, Cynthia doesn’t need to know.”

“For now,” Heidi echoes, and hopes like anything it won’t all go to hell. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "Honestly" by Cartel.


	7. Save Some Face, You Know You’ve Only Got One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Larry and Heidi take a shot at damage control.

Connor feels like he’s going to be sick. 

Evan went fucking rogue and told Heidi the truth and then he got sick, he’s really hurt, and it’s Connor’s fault it’s Connor’s fault, he shouldn’t have joined in the fight he should have hauled Evan out of there as fast as he could, he should have skipped the party, this is on him he did this he did this he did this. 

He ignores Heidi’s insistence that his parents will be worried because Connor knows damn well they are sleeping. Plus if he shows up without Zoe, his dad’ll be super pissed. So Connor stays in the backyard by the pool, smoking cigarettes and pacing, his stomach tied in knots and his heart thudding too loudly. 

Evan should have just let him take the fall. 

Fuck, he’s got a concussion, fuck. 

And where the hell is Zoe? 

It’s past three now, she should be home. She’s fucking fifteen, she shouldn’t still be out, should he walk back and get her? Steal his dad’s car? 

He feels sick he feels sick he feels sick. 

Connor ends up throwing up in the garbage can outside of the garage that’s usually reserved for hedge clippings and then is disgusted with himself because of course he’s doing this again, of course he is, he fucks up everything. 

Zoe gets home around four-thirty. Brian Harris drops her off, which upsets Connor because Brian was absolutely drunk at the party and also, like, was talking shit about him and saying gross stuff about Zoe. 

Connor doesn’t say anything to her. He just watches her laughing and stumbling inside their parents’ house. Sees the light in her bedroom turn on. Then flicker off. 

Connor feels unsettled. He keeps glancing in the direction of Heidi’s house, where there’s a low light coming from the living room, and he desperately wants to do… something. 

Something to fix this, fix the stuff he broke and messed up. 

Connor hates this he hates this. 

Standing in the foyer of Heidi’s house had sort of freaked him out. Reminds him of this dream he had a few weeks before he went off to Hanover, this weird disconnected dream about eating a peanut butter sandwich in Heidi and David’s kitchen before David tucked him into bed. 

Fucking weird dream. It still freaks him out. David died like a month later, a few weeks after Connor arrived at Hanover. Connor remembers sitting in his dorm, wondering if somehow the peanut butter sandwich dream was a premonition. 

Once Connor’s sure that Zoe’s asleep, he sneaks inside the house. The sun’s starting to come up, casting everything in a strange watery grayness. Connor’s unfortunately familiar with this time of day - he’s awake enough for it. He heads to his bedroom and closes the door softly, cursing himself because he’s out of practice, he forgot the door creaks if you close it too slowly. 

Connor holds his breath, waiting for one of his parents to come charging down the hallway to accuse him of being out all night. 

Nobody comes. 

He breathes. 

Changes out of his sandy and bloodied dress clothes. Pulls on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Adds a hoodie for good measure. Grabs his iPod and a book and sneaks back out into the backyard, watching the lights in Heidi’s living room. 

Once it’s a reasonable time, he’s marching over there. He’s going to head over, knock on Heidi’s door, and make a case for Evan not being thrown out. This wasn’t his fault. Evan shouldn’t be punished for some guys being huge creeps. Connor’s just going to wait until it’s a decent time and then he’s showing up and demanding to be heard. Connor won’t let her throw him out this time. 

He won’t. 

Connor puts his headphones in and sits on one of the lawn chairs around the pool, settling. 

Heidi’s car hasn’t left. She hasn’t taken Evan to the hospital. 

That’s probably good, right?

The sun steadily rises, starting to burn off the hazy, foggy appearance of the sky. 

Connor can’t concentrate on the book. He can’t believe this happened. Evan doesn’t deserve this; he was just… trying to look out for Zoe. He doesn’t deserve to be thrown out, he just doesn’t. 

Connor wakes up suddenly, his heart pounding hard in his chest. 

His dad is shaking him awake. 

“Hey, bud, it’s alright.”

Connor blinks a few times, adjusting to being awake and the bright sun. His brain is slow and sluggish and he’s still got his earphones in but his iPod isn’t playing anymore and his first thought is that if his dad called him “bud” then something is super wrong. 

Shit. 

He was supposed to stay awake. 

He was supposed to -

“Want to come get breakfast with me?” his dad asks. 

“What?” Connor says stupidly. He pulls the earphones out and wraps the cord around his iPod.

“Come on,” Larry says, “Breakfast. If we hurry, your mom will still be asleep and we can go somewhere with real food.”

Connor opens his mouth to protest, to say he can’t go anywhere because he has to go and beg Heidi not to throw Evan out, but then his stomach growls so aggressively it feels as if it might be recorded on the Richter scale. 

“Come on,” his dad says and Connor stumbles to his feet. His dad gives him a look. Not a “get it together Connor, Jesus” look but a hospital look. A “we’re sending you to New Hampshire because your mother and I are worried this environment isn’t good for you” look. “Were you out here all night?”

Connor doesn’t answer. His jaw won’t move. He looks at his shoes. 

“Well. You’ve got to be hungry. You skipped the dinner last night.”

Connor blinks. Waits to be yelled at. To be grounded until he dies. He didn’t think they had noticed. His dad let him go to a party last night.

“And obviously the burger you got didn’t settle well,” Larry goes on, sounding… amused. Sympathetic. “Since it’s stinking up the hedge clippings.”

“I’m sorry,” Connor says quietly. “I…I’ll clean it out but...” He has no explanation. He’s just a fuck up. “I can’t go, I -”

His dad claps him on the shoulder. “Come on. If we don’t go soon we’ll be eating flax egg omelettes or something.” He basically steers Connor around the side of the house and into the garage. 

Maybe his dad’s about to kick  _ him _ out. 

Wouldn’t that be a fucking perfect chain of events. Maybe he and Evan can share a dumpster to sleep behind. Fuck fuck fuck. 

Connor climbs into the passenger seat. His hands are shaking so hard it takes him a few tries to get his seatbelt on. His dad turns on the radio and some boring talk show is playing. His dad doesn’t talk, just nods his head along with the radio, “hmm”ing along when the commentators say something he agrees with. Or disagrees with. Connor has no fucking clue. 

Maybe his dad’s so sick of his shit that he’s just going to drop Connor on the side of the 405. 

Also he has to pee, which is. So not ideal. 

His dad pulls into some quaint little diner Connor has never seen before in his life. They park and his dad shuts off the car and then silence envelopes them. Distantly, Connor hears traffic, but inside the car the only sound he can hear is the slight whistle of his dad’s left nostril. He broke his nose in undergrad - some fraternity hazing bullshit. His nose never healed right. When Connor and Zoe were little they used to grab it and tease him about the sound. 

His dad scrubs a hand over his face. Connor stares at his feet and prays to any deity he can think of that he’s not going to get kicked out of the house. He’s stupid, way too stupid to make it on his own. He also hopes if it does happen he doesn’t, like, get so upset he forgets to hold his bladder because these are the only jeans he’ll have and he doesn’t want them soaked in pee and -

His dad takes the keys out of the ignition. “Come on,” he says softly. 

Connor obeys without protest or question. At the front of the diner there is a short wait while tables are being cleared from the morning rush and Connor asks if he can please use the bathroom. 

His dad looks at him like maybe that’s weird fucking thing for his teenage son to ask him, but Connor has lost track of all of the rules here. He doesn’t know what to expect. 

Inside the single-stall bathroom, Connor takes a piss and then. Allows himself to have a five-second breakdown. 

He’s so fucking stupid. So fucking stupid. 

Going to that party. 

Getting in a fight. 

Letting Heidi throw him out last night. Letting Evan walk home, concussed. Leaving Zoe at the party… Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck his dad should just abandon him on the side of the highway, that the fuck is the  _ matter  _ with him? 

He gags, looking at his disgusting reflection, and there’s nothing even in his stomach to throw up but his body doesn’t seem to care. He throws up bile, acidic and bitter and strangely reminding him of the soap his parents used to bathe him and Zoe when they were little, soap he’d gotten put in his mouth for saying “shit” at age eight in front of guests. 

He can’t stay in the bathroom forever, tempting though it seems. For one thing it smells like piss. Also he knows he’s making it worse on himself the longer he waits for his dad to yell at him. Connor washes his hands and then his face. Wipes them on a paper towel and heads back into the diner. His dad is seated at a sunny booth, drinking a cup of coffee and perusing the menu with a look of mild interest. 

Connor sinks heavily into the seat across from him. 

“The Eggs Benedict here is good,” his dad says conversationally. “Or if you’re really hungry, they’ve got a combination plate -”

“Please just yell at me,” Connor says desperately. He cracks immediately. He can’t handle whatever psychological warfare tactic this is. 

His dad sets his menu down. Fixes Connor with a look over his reading glasses. 

_ Whatever you do, don’t fucking cry,  _ he tells himself.  _ It’s pathetic.  _ Connor promises himself he will keep it together no matter what his dad says. 

His dad sighs. “Last night.”

“I can explain,” Connor starts, but his dad holds up his hand, silencing him. Connor shuts his mouth, back teeth pressed together hard. 

“Heidi called me.”

Connor feels his heart sink. “Did she kick him out?” he asks. “Is Evan okay?”

His dad gives Connor a strange smile. Like he’s got a stomach ache or something. He sighs. “She did not kick Evan out,” his dad says, rubbing his eyes. “Though why she thought bringing home a felon was wise is beyond me…” He shakes his head. 

“It was a felony?” Connor asks, feeling his heart drop further. 

“Heidi’s confident she can plead it down to a misdemeanor,” his dad says as if this is a superfluous detail. “Evan is fine. She’s been watching him all night, and he seems to be okay. She’s not going to throw him out, so you can relax about that okay?”

Somehow, Connor doesn’t exactly find that comforting. 

The conversation is interrupted by their server coming to take their order. His dad goes for the Eggs Benedict, but Connor opts for orange juice and an omelette with a lot of vegetables. Part of him sort of feels guilty about his burger and shake yesterday, and while he’s not prepared to give up eggs, he figures if he skips out on meat he won’t make his mom too upset. 

Order taken, it’s just Connor and Larry at a diner, seconds away from a fight. 

Probably Connor shouldn’t have even bothered to order. 

“Heidi says you and Evan got into a fight,” his dad says evenly. 

Connor looks down at the table. There’s a sticky smudge of pancake syrup on the epoxy resin. He did an art project with that at Hanover, learned all about how to properly mix the compounds and how to incorporate colors. They’d hung it in their dorm room, him and Miguel. He wonders if M threw it away. 

His dad is waiting for him to say something but Connor has nothing to say for himself. So he stares at the syrup smudge. 

“Heidi says you both say you started it,” his dad presses on after a sip of coffee. “I’d like to know what happened.”

Connor swallows. 

He wants to lie and swear it was all him, but Evan’s already gone and spewed the truth in Heidi’s foyer so. No point. “I… I didn’t know what happened. I just turned the corner and Brian and Chad were both beating the sh - Beating the crap out of him. Two on one. It wasn’t fair.” Connor fiddles with his fork. “I… He was going to get seriously hurt. And he said… he said they were, like, being gross about Zoe? Taking bets about which one would get to sleep with her.” 

Connor chances a glance at his dad’s face, which has turned red with anger. “Brian Harris and Chad Miller said this?”

Connor nods. 

His dad looks more pissed. “I’ll be having a word with their fathers then. Jesus Christ.”

“Please don’t,” Connor mutters quietly. “They’re still calling me ‘Quitter,’ I really don’t need  _ that _ .”

His dad’s face goes pale. Connor can see his jaw working, like he’s trying to formulate a response, find something to say, but all he gets out is, “Connor…”

“It’s fine. It doesn’t matter. It’s fine.”

“It’s not,” His dad chokes out. 

He shouldn’t have said anything. Connor’s so stupid, why’d he have to open his fucking mouth, what is the matter with him?

Connor sighs, frustrated, and wraps his hands around his fork. “Look, that’s why… why there was a fight, okay? Brian and Chad were being gross about Zoe and Evan was standing up for her. I only jumped in because. It wasn’t fair. Two on one. They could have killed him.” He thinks back to having to bodily drag Evan off of Brian, how he just kept hitting him over and over and over and his stomach churns. 

Larry’s frowning. “About Evan…”

Connor blinks. 

“Maybe he’s not… maybe he’s not the best person for you to be hanging around right now.”

Connor doesn’t understand. “Because of a fight?”

His dad frowns. Their food arrives, interrupting, and his dad makes a long show of asking for more coffee, another napkin, anything to delay answering Connor’s question. When he finally can’t put it off anymore, his dad starts eating. 

Connor’s pissed. 

“Is it the car thing?” Connor pushes, his face flushing, anger rising in him because of course his dad doesn’t get it, of course his dad is being a prick about this, of course he would blame Evan. 

“No,” his dad says, his voice stern now. “By the way, I’m not exactly thrilled about you taking a joy ride in  _ my _ car while we were at the event last night.” 

Connor’s face flushes. “I…” He has nothing to say for himself. 

“Napkins in the glovebox,” his dad answers Connor’s unasked question. “Also the car smelled like fast food.”

“Sorry,” Connor mumbles.

“You have your own car,” his dad adds. 

“I’m not even allowed to drive it,” Connor says, trying not to come across like he’s being petulant or pouting because it’s not the fucking point. “Whatever, that’s not… Why don’t you want me around him?”

His dad looks uncomfortable. 

“You don’t really know him,” Larry says, his voice annoyingly reasonable. 

“So?” Connor doesn’t care about that. “He’s… nice. I dunno. It was one fight, I don’t… I’ll be better about this stuff okay? I swear, I’m really not interested in getting into it with people at school anymore, okay?”

His dad looks… sad. “You’re not eating,” he says softly. 

Shit. 

Connor picks up his fork. His stomach turns a little at the smell of the food. He takes a tiny sip of his orange juice to see if he can coax his throat to cooperate. Chews slowly and cautiously, not sure if he’ll manage it but knowing his dad’s watching. He takes another sip of his juice, but Connor swallows. 

His dad looks fucking devastated. “Is that still happening then?”

Connor doesn’t know what to say. 

“I thought it was just all of the tofu your mom’s been forcing on us,” Larry goes on. “If you need to go back to the doctor -”

“I don’t,” Connor insists, feeling his cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I’m fine. I just… My throat’s dry.” He stubbornly picks up another forkful of food. He feels like puking the whole time he chews, and he chews and chews and chews, but he swallows. He manages. 

His dad doesn’t look any less concerned, even as Connor demolishes his omelette, unwilling to relent though his stomach seems to think he ought to. 

Larry sighs. His tone is more direct and less coddling when he tries to speak again, “Look, Connor. Heidi and I talked and we think it’s best if you just… keep your distance from Evan.”

Connor stops eating. 

Looks at his father. 

“Is this because of mom?” he asks, genuinely not understanding. “And her issue with Heidi?”

“No… And for the time being, it might be best not to mention Evan to her at all.”

Now Connor’s just especially lost. “I don’t… I don’t get it. I didn’t even do anything that bad… ”

His dad scrubs a hand over his face. “Yes, but. Evan did. He’s done something that’s gotten him into huge trouble. Evan got arrested for stealing a car, Connor. He needs to stay out of trouble.” 

The penny drops. 

Connor feels this sudden hollowness in his chest, this twinge of empty pain that echoes through his guts. 

It’s not for Connor’s benefit that his dad is asking him to stay away. It’s not because he thinks Evan might be a bad influence or whatever. 

He thinks Connor is. 

Because Connor’s the fuck up. 

Because Connor’s… wrong. He’s always just wrong. 

And the fact that his dad is telling him to stay away from some kid because the  _ other _ kid can’t afford more trouble just cements it for him. 

This always happens. 

This always fucking happens, he fucks up everything, he lets himself relax or be hopeful for even one minute and the floor drops out from under him. 

God he’s so stupid. He’s so fucking stupid. 

Connor let himself think, just for a second, just for a moment that… that he might have a fucking friend. 

This is humiliating. His dad taking him out for breakfast like this, trying to soften the blow, trying to be kind and gentle with Connor… 

Fuck. 

Fuck he’s so stupid. 

He’s so stupid and it hurts. It hurts to realize this. He just… 

Connor got his hopes up. Over nothing. Really. One fight, barely a full conversation, and two cigarettes and he’s that invested? Is he that desperate? That pathetic? 

And he’s not good for Evan. He’s… Stupid and a magnet for trouble and this is just fucking like him. He gets stupid, gets obsessed, ruins a fragile thing by being reckless and overzealous and so fucking stupid. 

God, he…

He’s stupid. 

He always does this. 

Evan probably begged Heidi to help keep Connor away from him, he probably hates Connor and blames him and it hurts it hurts. 

“Connor.”

He can’t look at his dad. He can’t. Connor stares at his half-empty plate. Idiotically, he feels like… crying or something. Screaming. Driving the tines of his fork into his skin until he bleeds. 

“Bud, come on, look at me.”

Connor can’t. He just can’t. 

His dad sighs. “I know how hard you’ve been trying this summer,” his dad says, his voice quiet. Gentle. His TV dad voice. “And I know that… you’ve had a hard time. Making friends. And this kid could probably use a friend who cares this much. But I just... I don’t want you to get hurt or… or to hurt someone else without meaning to. Alright?”

Connor nods his head, his cheeks hot with shame, his eyes stupidly stinging. “I’m trying. I’m really…”

“I know, buddy. I know you are.” his dad doesn’t say anything else. They just sit for a while. Connor picks at his food, trying not to blink or sniffle or do something embarrassing because seriously,  _ seriously,  _ what the hell is the matter with him he doesn’t even know this kid why does he give a shit if Heidi and his dad think they shouldn’t be friends? And since when does he even listen to his dad anyway, he’s being stupid, he’s being stupid, stupid stupid stupid so fucking stupid. He always does this. Commits too easily and too early. 

Some people have real problems. 

Some people have felony charges and shitty parents and he’s lucky, really, he’s lucky he’s just being stupid he just let the bullshit get in his head he just needs to get through school and graduate and he can do this, he just needs to forget all of the other shit. 

Connor tries. He just never gets it right. 

He always makes everything  _ worse.  _

He just wishes it didn’t hurt so fucking much. 

* * *

This is not the person Larry Murphy expected to be. 

Living in California for one. He’s from the East Coast. He’s used to  _ weather _ . Not this humid, salty warmth. 

The house for another. It’s massive. Larry grew up comfortable, but not like this. Not the way he’s raising his kids. 

Connor was trouble from the moment he was born. He wasn’t an easy baby. Cynthia’s labor was long. The baby was breech. Cynthia had to have an emergency C-section. And then when Connor was born? He wasn’t an easy baby. He cried all night most nights, kept Cynthia and Larry up all hours, ran them so ragged that despite their insistence not to be the people who hired help for one kid, they broke down after three months and took on a nanny. Connor just wasn’t an easy baby. 

Or an easy kid. 

He had a lot of energy. He was curious. Asked questions constantly, wanting to know how everything worked. Demanded a lot of attention, struggled to share with his sister, misbehaved at school. 

When he got to high school, Connor changed. Larry thought it was puberty at first. Kid shot up like a foot practically overnight. He went out for the basketball team. He went out with friends. He seemed more settled, less likely to bounce off walls with an unending pool of energy. Larry thought maybe his kid was finally fitting in. 

And then he started staying out all night. Coming home drunk. High. Quit basketball before the season ended. He was angry. Violent sometimes. Threatened to kill Zoe once, pounding on her bedroom door, screaming. Larry remembers pulling Connor away by his collar, tossing him to the floor, shouting at him, screaming in his face, asking what the fuck was the matter with him. 

And then Connor was hospitalized less than a week later. 

And Larry blamed Connor. He blamed him for everything. Larry blamed his son for the pain he was in. 

And by the end of the summer, when things were only getting worse, Larry decided he needed to get Connor out of there. He called an old friend from undergrad, asking if the school he ran could please take another student because Larry was at his wits end. So off to Hanover Connor went. 

And now he’s home. And Larry’s… 

Fuck, Larry thinks he might have just broken his kid’s heart. 

He hopes he made the right call. 

Connor’s a good kid. Larry knows that. He  _ knows  _ Connor’s a good kid under everything. But he also knows Connor’s… impulsive. Prone to self-destructive behavior. And lonely. 

Larry spent a lot of time in therapy working out his feelings about that. About how he’s given his kid every possible advantage, but that still didn’t spare him loneliness and pain. 

A lot of his anger, according to his therapist, is directed back at himself. Because Larry can’t save his kid from himself. 

But maybe he can spare him the pain of befriending someone who also has the odds stacked against him. Larry can’t stand the idea of what could happen to Connor if he and this Evan kid got close, only for Evan to end up in worse trouble. End up back in lock up because of some other dumbass decision. 

But looking at Connor across the table at this diner, Larry’s got his doubts. A lot of them. 

His kid is in pain and he caused it. 

And he hates that. 

But then Larry focuses on the bruises blooming on Connor’s thin face. On the way his knuckles are swollen and scabbed from the fight, and that re-ups his resolve. Heidi is looking out for Evan, it’s true, but Larry’s just worried about Connor. Connor who throws himself into things headfirst without thinking, Connor who talks tough but is sensitive, Connor who kept himself out of trouble all summer even when trouble was steps outside of their front door… 

Larry needs to protect his kid. 

But he’s paralyzed about what happens now. Where does Larry go after this? What can he say or do to make it better, less painful. He remembers being on the cusp of seventeen. He remembers not being able to yet see the bigger picture of things. And he fucked up plenty at that age. He doesn’t know how to make Connor understand why he’s saying this, why he’s doing this. So he’s paralyzed.

Larry pays for breakfast. Rests his hand on the back of Connor’s neck on the way back to the car. He’s not actually all that pissed about Connor running off with the car last night because at least Connor ate something. Even if he got sick later, he ate something. Something substantial. 

Larry’s been watching. 

Maybe he needs to have a word with Cynthia. See if she can’t loosen the reins on the strict veganism she’s enforced. They both know Connor… 

He can’t afford to not be eating. 

The drive home is quiet. Larry encourages Connor to pick the radio station, and he’s met with a suspicious gaze at first. But eventually Connor plays with the dial. Turns on a rock station. Smiles a little when some song with mumbled lyrics comes on. Larry can’t make them out and he’s struck by how old he sounds in his own head, bitching about kids these days and their mumbling music. He sure as hell wasn’t critiquing the diction of the Sex Pistols or The Clash when he was a kid. 

Though he swears this song just said something about watching  _ Blue’s Clues _ from the closet and that… seems wrong. 

When they pull into the driveway, it’s only just eight o’clock. Connor looks like he could drop off right there in the passenger seat, and Larry tells him to go and get some sleep. He knows his kid is hurting because he doesn’t even bother to argue or offer a snarky rebuke. He just nods wearily. 

Then, with an oddly determined face, Connor says he should go clean out the bin of hedge clippings and weeds that he got sick in before he heads inside.

Larry’s not used to it. His kids are experts at getting out of their chores and ignoring their messes. 

He’s so surprised that he says, “Don’t worry about it. Just go sleep.”

“You sure?” Connor looks uncomfortable. “I can do it -”

“Go to bed,” Larry says firmly. “Let me take care of it.”

Connor heads inside without another word. 

Larry gets his hose and cleans up the bin. 

It’s a Saturday morning. Sunny and bright and warm. There’s salt in the air and a 

breeze. The weather report said it would be hot today, in the high 90s, and Larry pulls out his phone and calls the club to cancel his tee time. He actually hates golf; most of the time it’s just a socially acceptable way to get day drunk anyway. It hasn’t been the same since David passed. He wasn’t a regular, but he’d show up on occasion. He was a terrible golfer but funny. Larry always begrudgingly admitted that he was funny. 

It’s strange now. When David was alive, he and Larry competed. Or at least, Larry competed with him. From law school to sitting the bar to their first jobs as junior associates until the moment Larry made senior partner (seven months before David did, he might add). 

But now David’s gone and his absence seems to have permeated everything Larry does. His job. His free time. 

His marriage. 

Larry tries not to think about that. 

The last time he attempted to bring it up to Cynthia, she had locked herself in her craft room/pilates studio/room full of the kids’ old clothes that she swore she was going to eventually take to the Salvation Army for the rest of the evening and then booked herself a three day spa trip and disappeared. 

He feels like Cynthia has just. Disappeared. 

After he finishes washing out the bin outside, Larry heads inside. He heads upstairs and looks in on Connor. He finds him already fast asleep on his bed, his long limbs splayed out across the mattress haphazardly. Then he looks in on Zoe. 

Zoe’s curled up in a ball in the middle of her bed, only her dyed hair visible. There’s a trash can sitting beside her bed, which causes Larry to frown. Was she sick? Had she been drinking?

He can’t go through what he did with Connor again with Zoe. 

Zoe was… she was always the easy one. A “surprise”, he and Cynthia always said. Zoe is exactly one year younger than Connor, something Larry knows annoys both of his children now that they’re older. That they share a birthday, one year apart. When they were small, they always had combined birthday parties, huge events with dozens of kids in their pool and mountains of sweets and more games than a carnival. 

Zoe was always the easy one. 

An easy baby. 

She slept so much in her first six months of life that Larry and Cynthia had nervously taken her to the pediatrician to make sure nothing was “wrong” with Zoe. 

But she was an easy kid. Happy, cheerful. Loved her brother. Active. She always wanted to be doing something. Music lessons in particular. Zoe took guitar and voice lessons from the time she was eight years old. She used to write little songs and perform them for the whole family so earnestly. 

Larry has a tape somewhere of this song she wrote when she was maybe twelve, one he’s tempted to pull out and show her when she wakes up. She wrote this song called “Girls Can Do Anything.” It was half a girl power anthem, half a song about dealing with the fact that she had gotten her first period. It was genuinely funny. And in the recording, Connor rolled his eyes at her at one point and she changed the words to be “girls can do anything,  _ Connor _ ,” and you can hear both Larry and Cynthia failing to cover their laughter. 

Now that she’s in high school, Zoe is quieter. She’s not interested in guitar or voice lessons anymore. She’s stopped hanging around all of her old friends and instead spends more time with the girls from the country club. She’s dressing differently too, and though Larry tries not to comment about the shorter skirts and the lower necklines, he suspects it coincides with her sudden interest in boys. 

Larry feels a little lost when it comes to Zoe. She won’t talk to him about much, and he knows, he  _ knows  _ he’s been spoiling her lately because lately all she comes to him about is money for some accessory or outfit. He offered to buy her a new guitar for her fifteenth birthday last year and she shut him down. Said she was tired of being the weirdo girl who played guitar and doodled on her pants. And he understands. He understands that she wants to fit in. Lord knows she shouldered a lot of the burden of what happened to her brother when he stopped fitting in his first year of high school. Zoe was the target most often of his anger. Larry understands. But he worries about her. About the lengths she’s gone to be accepted. He worries. 

But she’s sleeping. And she doesn’t want to talk to him. 

But still, Larry worries. 

This isn’t the person he thought he would be. 

* * *

Evan wakes up with a pounding headache and an ache in his stomach. 

For a moment, he’s sure he’s going to throw up, but the feeling passes. 

He blinks a few times and tries to get his bearings. 

It’s the second night in a row he’s woken up somewhere unfamiliar, and this time it’s even stranger. He’s on the sofa in the living room of Heidi’s house. 

Curled up in an armchair is Heidi, her eyes closed. 

The events of last night come back, piece by piece. 

The fashion show. Zoe inviting him to a party. 

Sitting with Connor outside by the bonfire. 

Overhearing those two assholes talking about fucking Zoe. 

Throwing the first punch. 

Connor, jumping in to help. 

Zoe, screaming at him and Connor for fighting. 

Connor, walking home with him. 

Talking him down from a panic attack. 

Lighting a cigarette for him because his hands shook so badly. 

Then… nothing. There’s a gap. Evan doesn’t remember getting back to Heidi’s house, but he’s clearly here, and she’s here, too, and they’re in the living room and he’s… 

Fuck. 

There’s a sour taste in his mouth, like he’s been sick.

He doesn’t remember drinking much. Not enough to make him puke, anyway. Which means that he probably has a concussion. 

It’s embarrassing, the fact that he pukes when he’s concussed. Evan knows that it’s a medical symptom or whatever, but some people can manage to get concussion without puking, he’s pretty sure. 

A concussion is nothing new. He’s gotten enough blows to the head when his dad has been drinking to be pretty used to it by now. Knows what to do, too. Usually he’ll just lie down, set an alarm to wake himself up every few hours, drink a lot of water and take some aspirin. He’s perfectly capable of looking after himself. 

Evan wishes he’d had the presence of mind to explain that to Heidi last night, but clearly, he didn’t, because she’s curled up asleep in an armchair and he’s on the sofa and he’s willing to bet that she spent all of last night awake keeping an eye on him, which is…

No one’s ever done that before.

No one has ever done that for him. 

He doesn’t want to wake Heidi up, but he really has to pee, so he very quietly, very carefully climbs to his feet, then pads out of the room carefully, feeling a little off balance, a little dizzy. It takes him a while, but he finds the bathroom on the ground floor. 

Once he’s done peeing, he washes his hands and looks at his reflection. 

His eye is even more bruised, even more swollen, and there’s a cut on his cheek. His hair is a greasy mess and there are huge dark circles under his eyes and he’s pale, so pale all his freckles stand out. 

It’s disgusting. 

He’s disgusting. 

Evan thinks back to the night before, to Connor’s bruised jaw and sharp cheekbones and his eyes, outlined in smudged black. And he hates that Connor got hurt, hates that Connor took a punch for him, but Connor’s bruised face isn’t disgusting at all, it’s…

Well, Evan doesn’t really know how to explain it. 

It reminds him of the ocean at night. 

Which is such a fucking stupid thing to think, who the fuck thinks that, what the fuck. 

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck. 

For a moment, Evan’s sure he’s going to puke again. 

The feeling passes. 

He looks at his reflection for a long moment, then steadies his shoulders. 

Tries to prepare himself. 

He’s going upstairs to pack up all his belongings. Leave the clothes Heidi bought for him in the room he’s staying in, take his skateboard and just… go. He doesn’t know where, but it’ll hurt less if he goes, it’ll hurt less to not have Heidi tell him she wants him gone to his face. 

It’ll hurt less. 

Evan opens the door to the bathroom to see Heidi standing there, holding two glasses full of what looks like a berry smoothie. 

“Do you think you could stomach this?” she asks Evan, offering him a glass. “Here’s hoping you’re feeling less nauseated.”

Evan blinks. 

“I’m okay,” he says quietly. “Thank you for letting me crash here these last two nights, I-”

“I’m not kicking you out, Evan.”

Evan blinks again. 

Stares at her. 

Heidi’s expression is soft but concerned. She’s still holding the glass out to him. 

Not knowing how else to react, Evan takes it. 

“Why not?” he asks, genuinely baffled. “I… I got in a fight at a party, I…” He closes his eyes and tries desperately to piece together the space between smoking with Connor and waking up this morning. “I don’t even remember how I got here.”

When he opens his eyes again, Heidi is frowning. “You must have taken a pretty bad hit last night,” she says after a while. She takes his arm with her free hand. “Come on. Let’s go sit.”

Evan’s completely lost. Completely thrown.

But he lets Heidi lead him back into the living room and to the sofa he’d spent the night sleeping on. She sits next to him and they both drink smoothies in silence. 

“How are you feeling?” Heidi asks after a while, and there’s something in her voice that makes Evan think she genuinely wants to know. 

“Weird,” Evan admits. “Kind of… achey. But I’m okay, I swear.”

Heidi looks concerned. “I can get you some painkillers. Something to make you a bit more comfortable.” She offers a small smile. “How about we stay in this weekend, huh? Curl up on the sofa, watch some trashy television and just… chill. What do you say?”

Evan blinks. “Sure,” he replies, for lack of anything else to say. 

He considers asking what the hell she’s thinking, letting him stay. What the hell she’s doing, letting him into her life. 

But if he asks her, then she might change her mind. And Evan…

Doesn’t want that, he realizes. 

Doesn’t  _ want  _ to go back to Chino. 

Anywhere’s better than there. 

Heidi makes popcorn, grabs a whole bunch of blankets and pillows and the two of them spend all day on the sofa watching old movies.  _ Indiana Jones, Star Wars, Back to the Future _ . Movies Evan knows and recognizes, even though it’s been a while. 

He can’t remember the last time he watched a movie. Probably before his dad hooked up with Elaine. Before he met Elaine, Mark spent a hell of a lot more time sitting around drinking in front of the television. 

On the good days, he’d invite Evan to watch a movie with him. Give him a beer sometimes, too. He had his first beer when he was twelve and while it’s not his favorite, he doesn’t hate it. 

On the bad days, Evan tried to avoid him, but if he was unlucky enough to be found…

The bad days were always bad. 

Evan falls asleep in the middle of Return of the Jedi and wakes up to find Heidi’s ordered pizza. Way too much pizza, along with garlic bread and mozzarella sticks. The pizza has green peppers and cheese on it, and Heidi assures him it’s kosher. 

Something warm blossoms in his chest at that. 

It’s nice, knowing they have this thing in common. 

“Is your family all Jewish?” Evan asks as they eat. “It’s matriarchal, right? The whole being Jewish thing?”

Heidi smiles and nods. “Yeah,” she says, something a little sad in her voice. “My mom passed when I was pretty young, so it was just me and my brother and my dad for a while. Dad got remarried when I was in high school.” Her smile twists a little. “She didn’t like me much.”

Evan’s chest tightens at that. “I’m sorry.”

Heidi shrugs. Pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “Dad passed away about seven years ago and Marcia and I aren’t in touch at all, really. And my brother and I aren’t exactly close. He’s married with a kid of his own. So in terms of family, it’s kind of just me.” She smiles a little sadly. “David was the same, in a lot of ways. He was an only child and his parents died just after we got married. We kind of… well, we made our own kind of family.”

Evan blinks. “I’m sorry you lost him,” he says simply, because he is. 

Heidi blinks. Offers a watery smile. “Me too.” She blinks again. “I think you would have liked him.”

Something comes back from the night before. “Connor said David was a good guy,” he says suddenly. “Said that... he’d give you the clothes off his back without even batting an eye.”

Heidi looks at Evan, something horribly sad in her expression. “He’s not wrong,” she says after a moment. She opens her mouth, then closes it again. Pushes her hair behind her ear again, then finally speaks. “Connor got you back home last night.”

Something in Evan’s chest leaps at the thought. “Yeah?”

She nods. “Yeah.” She bites her lip. Sighs. “If you don’t remember much about last night, then you won’t remember what we talked about, huh.”

Evan looks at her, trying to keep his expression even. “What did we talk about?”

Heidi bites her lip again. “We talked about how many it wasn’t such a good idea for you and Connor to spend too much time together.”

Evan’s heart starts to pound too fast. Way too fast. “Why?” he asks immediately. 

“Connor was off at boarding school last year,” Heidi says carefully. “His parents sent him away because they thought it would be a better environment for him, after he had some trouble at school.” 

There’s something almost hesitant about that, something…

Evan remembers the way those assholes all talked about Connor. 

How kept calling him quitter. 

He remembers Connor’s explanation. How it had been rushed, how he hadn’t been able to look Evan in the eye when he said it. 

There’s more to it than that. 

There’s more going on. 

“He’s back now,” says Evan cautiously. “And we’ll be going to the same school. Harbor, right?” 

“Right,” says Heidi, equally cautious. “I know the principal, I called in a favor.” She nods. “I just… I need you to be careful with Connor, okay? He’s a good kid, he really is, he just… he gets into trouble. Trouble you can’t afford after what happened with Ethan and stealing that car.”

Evan feels his shoulders tense. “Okay,” he says after a moment. “I’ll be careful.”

They eat the mozzarella sticks in silence. When they’ve finished eating, Heidi suggests they watch  _ E.T _ . and Evan agrees. 

This is a fancy TV, Evan notes. Big, too. The blankets are warm and the pillows are soft and before he knows it, he’s drifting off again. 

When he wakes up, the movie’s over and Heidi’s asleep too, her head resting on his shoulder. It’s a strange, unfamiliar feeling, having someone fall asleep on him, and something inside him aches for it, aches at the closeness.

If she’s asleep on his shoulder, then she trusts him. 

Heidi  _ trusts  _ him. 

He’s given her no reason to, but somehow, she does, and that’s… 

His chest aches, it aches so fucking much. 

He can’t let her down. She’s given him so fucking much, he cannot let her down. He needs to go to this school on Monday and do his best and work hard and keep his head down and maybe, maybe he’s got a shot at being someone worth trusting. 

Just maybe. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "Smile Like You Mean It" by The Killers.


	8. I Don’t Understand What You Want From Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the first day of school. Evan's not making friends.

It’s a lowkey, relaxed sort of weekend, the kind of weekend that Heidi is still getting used to. She knows she has workaholic tendencies. So does David. It’s one of the things they connected over when they first met. 

The two of them used to try to schedule at least one full day of downtime a month but they didn’t always manage it. Evenings, sure, but a full day? Not happening. 

Since David died, Heidi’s been trying to do the whole ‘sit around and do nothing’ thing more often. At first it was easy. She hadn’t wanted to do anything at all in the weeks immediately following David’s death. Just… lie in bed and cry. But when she jumped into a new job, there was a learning curve, and soon she found herself working on the weekends again, working whenever she could. 

It made her less lonely to be working. 

Sitting around doing nothing alone gets old after a while. 

It’s nice with Evan, though. 

Quiet. Relaxed. 

Evan’s got a good sense of humor, Heidi realizes after two full days of movies and popcorn and pizza. He’s smart and he’s funny and even though he’s quiet and guarded, there’s something warm about him, something likable. 

Heidi likes his company. Likes having him around. 

He’s a genuinely nice kid. 

A nice kid who deserves better than the hand life dealt him. 

Sunday afternoon rolls around and the atmosphere changes as they both come to terms with the reality of Evan starting school the next day. Heidi knows it’s fast - lightning fast, in fact - but she wants to keep this kid out of trouble, she wants to give him a chance, and even if this whole thing is just temporary, at least she knows that during the day while she’s at work, he’ll be at school. 

Where he should be. 

He’s just a kid. He  _ should  _ be at school. 

“What’s Harbor like?” Evan asks quietly over dinner. They’d finally left the house because Heidi feels like pizza two nights in a row is probably irresponsible. There’s this place about halfway between Chino and Newport with really good sushi. 

Turns out Evan can’t use chopsticks, so Heidi eats the sushi with her fingers in the hopes he’ll feel less awkward about it. 

“It’s a good school,” Heidi says, scrunching up her nose after putting too much wasabi on the piece she’s eating. “Lots of kids from Harbor end up at Ivy League universities. Even if you’re not here permanently, I think it’ll be a good experience for you.”

Evan nods, then eats another piece of sushi, holding it clumsily. He isn’t admitting it, but Heidi suspects he’s never had sushi before. 

She can’t tell if he likes it from his expression. 

After a while, Evan looks at her again, his eyes big and questioning. “So… I’ll be here until after the hearing?” he says, something cautious in his voice. 

“At least,” Heidi says with a nod. 

Evan frowns a little, then looks at his plate. “I guess it depends on what happens,” he says, his voice still cautious. She can see him bite his lip. “Might be easier on you if I get sent to juvie.”

“That’s not happening,” Heidi says immediately. “Not on my watch.”

Evan looks up at her, eyes still big and full of questions he isn’t asking. 

Heidi smiles at him. “Just so you know, I’m  _ very  _ good. Trust me, you won’t end up in juvie.” She pauses. “As long as you don’t get into any more trouble between now and then.”

“That’s the plan,” Evan mutters, this small smile on his face. 

It’s barely there a moment before it falls off his face and something real replaces it. 

Evan looks young and scared, and he’s looking at her kind of desperately, this lost look in his eyes, and Heidi’s heart aches for him. 

“What happens after that?” he asks, his voice small. 

Heidi hesitates. 

She’s not sure. She is genuinely not sure. 

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” she says, trying to sound reassuring. “But whatever happens, I’ve got your back, Evan. Okay?”

Evan bites his lip. Looks away.

“Okay,” he murmurs.

* * *

It’s a bad weekend. 

Connor feels like a caged animal. 

He sleeps until noon on Saturday. Paces his bedroom when he wakes up. Tries listening to music but nothing seems to calm him, slow the stuttering of his heart, numb the hollowness inside him. 

Picks up his cellphone. Dials M’s number. 

Over and over and over. 

Because he needs him to pick up, he needs something, he needs  _ something _ . 

There’s no answer. There never fucking is. 

And Connor still doesn’t understand  _ why _ . 

Was it because he showed his hand? Admitted to how it felt? M was always on him about how Connor never wanted to tell him anything, never wanted to let him in and then realized he didn’t want that after Connor’s stumbled admission seconds before he confessed. Was it because he did something stupid to try to help and Miguel was pissed? Had he misread the signs? 

Most likely it was just because M didn’t want him. 

He just didn’t want Connor, not like that, not like Connor wanted him. 

But he just. He has to know. It’s been making him insane, these quiet months, this not knowing. He calls and calls and calls until he drains his phone battery, demanding an answer he knows he’s not going to get. 

He can’t sleep that night, so Connor spends hours and hours online, staring at his Myspace top eight and answering stupid surveys in bulletins his classmates from Hanover posted. 

It’s their first week of school starting Monday too. 

Miguel is still listed as his top friend. 

Obviously, Connor should change that, but currently his number two spot is Zoe and that feels wrong too, the entire concept of a top eight feels wrong, he doesn’t even have eight friends he doesn’t even have one and why did he put Zoe as number two anyway?

He debates just deleting his profile. All that’s on there are some old pictures from school last year and songs he likes. He doesn’t need to have a Myspace. 

Feeling a little masochistic, Connor clicks on Miguel’s profile and clicks through his photos, tries to divine meaning out of his posture in his latest mirror picture but he’s got nothing. M looks fine. He seems fine. He posted a Paramore song to his page. 

Connor’s stomach turns. 

He calls M again, not caring that it’s five o’clock in the morning on the East Coast, not caring that he’s angry and sad and being stupid, not caring how many times he already called, he doesn’t care he doesn’t care he doesn’t care. 

Connor doesn’t get an answer. 

And he can’t sleep. 

He just can’t sleep.

He can’t really sleep Sunday night either. 

Because all of the hurt and anger and stupidity falls away and he ends up sitting up all night, anxious about school the next day. 

Going back to this school… 

Connor feels sick about it. 

Sick at the idea of returning to his old locker, walking the halls again, seeing the familiar faces… 

Connor’s fucking scared. He’s going to fuck this up, he knows it, it’s just a matter of time. He’s a ticking time bomb. He’s a grenade and the pin has been pulled.

Connor’s hands shake a lot and he feels dizzy and unsteady as he paces around his bedroom. He’s too scared to try to go for a walk, because the last time he felt this way he passed out and… 

He should eat something. 

He knows he should eat something, but the thought makes his stomach clench painfully, the idea makes him want to gag, he had that huge breakfast yesterday, he really shouldn’t… 

Connor eats an Altoid he finds lurking in his desk, hoping that does… something. 

He sleeps fitfully. Wakes up several times. 

Gives up on the idea of sleep as the clock shows four-thirty. 

He showers in the hall bathroom. Brushes his teeth, but ends up gagging as he does and getting sick in the sink. 

Connor has got to get his shit together. 

He spends a long long time trying to figure out what to wear to school. Obviously nothing his mom bought him. 

Connor settles on a pair of black jeans and dark gray t-shirt. His boots. That jacket his mom hates that he thrifted over the summer. It’s big on him, roomy, and it feels safer, putting distance between himself and the world. 

He spends some time fixing the polish on his fingernails. He decides not to put on any eyeliner, because today is probably going to suck as it is. 

Zoe wakes up around five and spends over an hour and a half getting ready in the bathroom. His dad is up around six. 

He looks tired, Connor thinks. He puts on a pot of coffee and reads his emails. Connor wants to say something to him but he doesn’t know what. He wants his dad to give him his TV dad voice, to call him “champ” or “bud,” to say something encouraging but Connor suspects he doesn’t because they both know it won’t make a difference. 

His mom trudges into the kitchen, still in her pajamas, and sets about making 

breakfast. “Connor,” she says from where she’s standing at the stove. He looks up at her. She’s not smiling. Her face looks especially pale today. “Your dad and I agreed you can drive to school.” That’s all she says. He nods. Wordlessly, his dad slides car keys across the table and. That’s that. 

Connor tries to eat the food she puts in front of him, because his dad’s watching and he’s trying not to be like this. Whatever he’s like. He’s trying to be different. He struggles to swallow it and has to keep gulping down black coffee, but he manages to eat half and that’s… something. 

When it’s time to go, Connor heads up the stairs to get his bag. He pauses and considers his next move carefully. Then he knocks on Zoe’s doorframe. She’s singing along to some song on the radio, putting on a headband. She didn’t come down for breakfast. 

“What?” Zoe says. 

“Do you want a ride to school?” He doesn’t know why he asks. But he asks. He holds his keys up, like. He doesn’t know why. Connor feels stupid, Connor’s so stupid, why’s he doing this. 

Zoe stares. “No thanks,” she says with a shrug. “Tommy and Madison are picking me up. I usually ride in with them.”

Right. Of course. Why’d he even ask?

“Cool. Okay.” Connor clutches his keys in his hand hard. He doesn’t know why he thought it might be a different answer. She doesn’t want a ride to school with her freakish, psychotic brother. He just. 

He doesn’t want to go in alone. 

Connor knows that’s pathetic, but he hasn’t been back there since the end of freshman year and he really, really doesn’t want to walk in by himself. 

But it can’t be helped. 

He goes back downstairs. Calls goodbye to his parents. Heads out through the garage. He’s never actually driven this car. He’s not even positive he knows the way to school. But he can’t turn back now, run scared to mommy and daddy and ask for a ride. 

Connor climbs into the car.  _ His  _ car. It might have felt like freedom if he were normal but he’s not. He adjusts the mirrors cautiously. Turns on the radio. Finds a good station. And then he’s driving. Like it’s nothing. 

He makes it to school in practically no time. Parks in the student lot. There’s already a parking pass hanging from the rearview mirror, like his parents had planned this. Like they had decided without telling him that he could drive his car to and from school and only just remembered he needed to be included in that conversation. 

Whatever. 

* * *

Heidi helps Evan pick out an outfit for the first day of school. 

It’s the weirdest fucking thing, but he has to admit it’s helpful. He doesn’t know these kids, doesn’t know this place. He’s going to stick out no matter what he does, but at least this way, it might not be straight away. 

He ends up in a polo shirt and jeans. Heidi also covers up the bruises on his face, so when he looks in the mirror, it’s like he’s an entirely different person. 

He feels completely ridiculous. 

Completely fucking ridiculous. 

But he’ll wear whatever Heidi wants him to wear without complaints, because she’s the only thing standing between him and juvie or homelessness right now, and neither of those options appeal to him. 

“Okay,” says Heidi as she drops him off at the front gates of Harbor High School. “Here we go.” 

Harbor is an obnoxious fancy looking place and he feels immediately like he shouldn’t be there. 

At least there’s not a school uniform. 

He’d feel like a fucking idiot in a school uniform. 

“So the principal has organized someone to help you find your way around,” Heidi says when Evan doesn’t say anything. “Hopefully they’re not completely terrible.”

“It’ll be fine,” Evan says quickly, feeling his palms begin to sweat and his chest begin to ache from the way his heart is pounding. “I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will be,” says Heidi, this tone in her voice that’s almost manically upbeat. “You’re tough. You’ve got this. I think this is going to be great for you.”

Evan nods. Tries to smile. Wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans. 

It takes him a while to muster up the confidence to get out of the car, but when he does, Heidi does, too. Unexpectedly, she pulls him into a tight hug. 

He tenses up at first, because it’s…

He can’t remember the last time someone hugged him. 

Not for a very, very long time.

Not since his mom. 

“You’re going to be okay,” she says as she lets him go, her voice shaking a little with something Evan can’t quite place. “This is a really great opportunity, Evan. Make the most of it.”

_ While you can,  _ the voice in his head sneers.  _ Knowing your luck, you’ll fuck it up immediately.  _

Evan goes to say goodbye to Heidi, but she slings her handbag over her shoulder and determinedly walks him onto school grounds, straight through the front gates into what must be the administration block. She exchanges a friendly greeting with the receptionist, then they both take a seat in plush looking chairs in a waiting area. 

The chairs, while beautiful, aren’t that comfortable. 

Evan looks around. There’s a display of glossy photos of smiling teenagers. A cabinet full of shiny golden trophies. 

On a small table, there’s a jug of water. Upon closer inspection, Evan can see that there are slices of cucumber in it. 

What the fuck is up with that?

A tall, severe looking man in an expensive suit arrives soon after. He shakes Heidi’s hand, then shakes Evan’s hand, and says something about being happy to welcome Evan to the school, says something about a vacation that Evan doesn’t quite register, and Heidi laughs politely and all Evan can hear is a ringing in his ears. 

He doesn’t belong here. He doesn’t belong here he doesn’t belong he doesn’t belong. 

“Given the amount of travel required in modern careers, we’re accustomed to short term visitors like yourself,” says the man, whose name Evan cannot fucking remember. “I’m sure you’ll slot in nicely.” He smiles, and something in his smile is a little uncomfortable for a moment. 

Evan doesn’t know what this guy knows. 

Doesn’t know what Heidi’s told him. 

Does he think he’s actually Heidi’s nephew? Has she flat out lied on his behalf? 

Something about that sits uncomfortably. 

The three of them head into a far too fancy office. The principal starts talking about what the school offers and Evan tries to follow, he really does, but it’s all going over his head, there is all so fucking much, this is all so fucking much, he is completely and totally overwhelmed, totally over his head, what is he doing what is he doing what is he fucking doing?

There’s a knock on the door, then it opens and Evan takes a moment to realize he recognizes the guy standing in the doorway. 

“Ah, Mr. Kleinman,” says the principal. “Come on in. This is Evan Hansen, he’ll be attending Harbor temporarily.”

Jared’s eyes go wide at the sight of him, but he plasters a smile on his face for the principal. “We met at the fundraiser on Friday night,” he says. “Good to see you again.”

The principal smiles. “Oh good, you already know each other. That’ll make this easier.” He turns to Evan. “Jared will show you around. Help you get your bearings.” 

Jared smiles wider. Heidi stands up, so Evan follows suit, and Jared strides over to him and loops his arm around his shoulders. “Come on. Let’s get you settled in.”

Evan shoots Heidi a look, hoping she’ll pick up on the fact that he really doesn’t know if he’s okay with this, but she’s talking to the principal about something and just waves at him and tells him to have a good day and.

Fuck. 

Fucking fuck. 

* * *

Connor goes to the guidance office first, as he was directed. Gets his new class schedule and a stack of brochures on mental health and available resources. He shoves those into the bottom of his bag, not really wanting to look at them. He knows he’s crazy. And Connor knows that everyone at this school knows this. But he doesn’t need a fucking pamphlet. A tri-fold of paper isn’t going to make him less batshit. 

The guidance counselor tells Connor they’ll be meeting once a week until the end of the first quarter. Connor frowns a little, but he presses his back teeth together rather than complain. He gets it. He went nuts the last time he was here. The school is checking in so that nobody else gets hurt. He gets it. 

But Connor fucking hates it. 

“And you can stop in anytime,” his guidance counselor says. “If you ever need to talk.”

Connor nods. Gets up to go. 

Fat fucking chance he’s going to willingly spill to this woman. 

Pauses. “Is my locker the same?” he asks. 

She smiles sympathetically. Tells him no, it was given to another student. He’s immediately grateful for that. He doesn’t want to go back to that locker ever again, and he fully intended to be the weirdo who carried all of his books with him all day if he couldn’t swing a new one. His new locker assignment is on the top of his schedule, along with the combination. Connor thanks her and sets off. 

He can do this, he thinks. 

His eye begins to twitch. Connor doesn’t know when that started again. This morning? Last night? Maybe it never stopped. Maybe he’s always just twitching. Maybe he just started to tune out all of the shit that’s wrong with him because he’s so used to it. 

He texted M, early this morning, a bland message about it being the first day. There hasn’t been a response. 

Connor’s not surprised but it still stings. 

He finds his locker after a while. The lock takes a few tries to get open. His hands feel too big for the combination lock. His fingers keep knocking against the metal. 

He doesn’t have anything to put inside of it, so he just opens the door and shuts it again. The previous tenant left some magnets inside of his locker. 

Well. That's maybe something. He doesn’t know. 

Connor closes the door and looks out over the hallway, into the sea of faces both familiar and foreign. He doesn’t see his sister, but he does see Jared Kleinman. Just looking at him makes Connor’s insides squirm uncomfortably. 

Fucking Kleinman is such a prick. Connor can’t stand that guy. Hates his face. Hates looking at him. Hates the fact that he ever thought they might be, like, friends… or friendly. Whatever. He hates Kleinman and hates himself because he didn’t always hate Kleinman. 

Connor sets off down the hall, looking at his schedule, thinking back to where the hell the languages department is located because he has first period French, when Connor hears a laugh. 

Turns his head to see Kleinman talking to Evan. 

Connor is surprised to see Evan. He guesses he didn’t think Heidi would, like, enroll him in school here if she’s only letting him stay temporarily but. Whatever. Connor sort of thought he’d never see Evan again. 

Connor’s glad to see him. He’s so fucking glad to see him. 

He’s still got a black eye, and it’s clearly been covered with makeup, but Connor can make it out. Just barely. It’s mostly just because he knows where to look. Otherwise, Evan looks okay. He’s dressed in some kind of douchey Abercrombie polo and jeans, but they’re not, like, terrible, they just don’t seem to suit him. And he’s  _ here _ . 

So he didn’t get kicked out. So he’s okay. 

Connor almost waves but catches himself at the last second. Wraps his hand tight around the strap of his bag. His knuckles go white. 

And Jared notices Connor noticing Evan and his face breaks into a massive, sadistic smile. “Hey  _ Quitter, _ ” Jared’s nasally voice rings out across the hall. He’s spiked up his hair and looks ridiculous. His smile is taunting. His glasses flash oddly in the fluorescent lights. “Loving the new hair length. Very school shooter chic.”

Connor feels like his lungs have collapsed or. Like his stomach has splattered out onto the ground. He feels instantly hollow, instantly hurt, because of course this is how it starts, of course he was stupid to have hoped the nickname died out, of course he walked right into this. 

School shooter. 

Fuck. 

Fuck that’s… 

Connor would never, he would  _ never _ , he’d… Is that what he looks like to people? Terrifying and violent and capable of mass murder? Is that who he is? 

He thinks about the time he pounded on Zoe’s door because he was pissed at her, screaming how he was going to kill her, how he practically broke the door down and the only reason he didn’t actually hurt her is because his dad stepped in and Connor feels sick, he feels sick, and he’s aware that Jared is just looking at him. Laughing at him. Jared is fucking laughing at him he’s laughing and Connor’s jaw is wired shut, his teeth are mashed together, his breathing starting to quicken. He just stares at Jared. He stares and stares because it’s all he’s got. 

“I was kidding,” Jared says with a roll of his eyes. “It was a joke.”

Before Connor can open his mouth to manage a retort of any variety, Evan is stepping between Connor and Jared. 

Connor feels his heart lift strangely, like maybe Evan’s going to defend him or tell Jared to shut up or something. 

But a split second too late, Connor realizes what’s actually happening. Evan cocks his fist, leans into it, and punches Jared’s face so hard that his glasses skitter across the floor.

Well, that’s… 

Shit.

Shit shit shit what the fuck was he thinking?

Jared’s on the floor clutching his nose, blood trickling from his nostrils, and Evan’s looking at Connor, something unreadable in his eyes. 

What the fuck?

What the fuck what the fuck?

Nobody’s ever punched someone for Connor before. His heart leaps. 

“Don’t fucking t-talk to him like that,” Evan says to Jared darkly. Connor feels this sudden and intense rush of affection for this guy he doesn’t even really know because nobody has ever stood up for him like that nobody’s  _ ever _ like cared when people talked shit about him nobody’s ever. 

Connor’s hands are shaking. He tries not to get distracted by the sudden warmth that spreads through him because reality hits him fast because Evan’s been charged with a felony, Evan’s just assaulted someone, Evan could get in huge trouble and it’s all Connor’s fault. He starts to smile, to thank Evan, but then he remembers his dad telling him he needs to stay away, telling him how much trouble Evan’s already in and fighting in the halls is not a great move for someone on the first day of school when they’re awaiting a sentence on car theft, fuck. 

“Why the fuck would you do that?” Connor says to Evan in a low, pissed voice. “Are you fucking stupid?”

Evan’s eyebrows travel up his forehead. Knit together, like he’s confused, hurt. “He’s an asshole,” Evan says, like that explains it. 

Jared’s still not getting up. 

Naturally, that’s when teachers notice. When other people notice. There’s laughter and shouting and everything gets so loud in Connor’s head until it all just fades into a dull whine and he can’t hear anything. 

He can’t hear anything. 

Connor is dragged by the elbow to the principal’s office, Jared and Evan in tow, but he’s not there. He’s not there because he’s… he’s “school shooter chic.” He’s met someone who will throw a punch for him. He’s in serious fucking trouble and it’s not even 7:45 yet. He didn’t even make it to the first bell. Because this time he actually didn’t even do anything he just stood there he was just standing there and he didn’t  _ do  _ anything. 

* * *

This school is massive. Just… way too fucking big. Jared’s keeping up a running commentary about people and places and parties and all that shit and Evan does not care, he absolutely does not care. 

The first stop seems to be to find Evan’s locker. The lockers here are nice, Evan notes. Not falling apart. They don’t smell like fish and desperation like they did at his old school. The whole place smells good, actually. 

That’s something. 

“So,” Jared says as Evan opens his locker and just kind of… looks at it. “Everyone’s talking about you getting into a fight at the party on Friday night. What was that all about?”

Evan blinks. “What did you hear?” he asks, a little stupidly. 

“That you’re trying to get into Zoe Murphy’s pants,” Jared says immediately, this big grin on his face. “Don’t say I blame you, dude. She’s hot.” He laughs, this big obnoxious laugh. “But you’re going about it the wrong way if you think trying to make friends with her brother is going to get you an in. She can barely stand the guy.”

Evan’s not sure how to respond. If he should respond at all. 

He closes his locker instead. 

“Speak of the devil,” says Jared, his grin getting even bigger. He looks down the hall and Evan follows his gaze to see Connor standing there in an oversized jacket. The bruise on his jaw isn’t as bad as it was. The swelling’s gone down, thank fuck. 

Evan wants to talk to him. 

Wants to tell Jared to fuck off and just… go talk to Connor. Hang out with Connor. 

“Hey  _ Quitter, _ ” says Jared, practically yelling across the hall, walking toward Connor. “Loving the new hair length. Very school shooter chic.”

The comment takes a moment for Evan to process but when it does…

What. 

What the fuck. 

Who the fuck  _ jokes  _ about that kind of shit, what kind of fucking asshole makes a comment like that? 

Jared is laughing and laughing and Connor’s expression is guarded and blank but Evan recognizes something in his eyes. Something painful and familiar. 

Evan shoots Jared a look, and Jared just rolls his eyes. 

“I was kidding. It was a joke.”

Evan sees red. He’s so fucking angry he can barely stand it and he doesn’t even think. Doesn’t even fucking think, he just steps up to Jared and punches him in the face. 

Hard. 

The feeling of his fist colliding with Jared’s face is fucking amazing, because this guy has a face that is just  _ screaming  _ to be punched. Jared’s glasses go flying and he falls to the floor, blood pouring from his nose. 

Evan doesn’t fucking care about that. 

He looks at Connor, whose eyes are wide and shocked, who looks a million times younger somehow. 

Who doesn’t deserve this shit. 

Maybe Heidi thinks Connor is trouble and maybe he is. They don’t even really know each other. Evan’s spent the last two years at a school where someone shooting the place up is a real fucking possibility because no one gives a shit if people bring weapons to school, despite the metal detectors at the front gates. He knows people who genuinely want to hurt others in that way. He’s seen it in their eyes. 

That’s not what he sees in Connor. 

Not even a little bit. 

“Don’t fucking t-talk to him like that,” Evan says to Jared, and he’s almost surprised at how angry he sounds. 

Connor takes a step toward him, and Evan feels a lump in his throat. 

“Why the fuck would you do that?” Connor says, sounding almost as angry as Evan did. “Are you fucking stupid?”

Evan wasn’t expecting that. He feels his eyes widen, feels himself frowning, and fuck, he’s got to get it together, got to hide his feelings better, especially around here. “He’s an asshole,” he says, trying to make it seem like this isn’t a big deal. 

Connor doesn’t say anything, just glares at him, and all Evan can do is stare back, feeling his stomach sink, because…

Fuck. 

Fuck, he’s so stupid, what the fuck. 

Connor’s right - he  _ is  _ fucking stupid, so  _ fucking  _ stupid. 

He doesn’t even know this guy, he…

Evan doesn’t bother arguing when a teacher grabs his arm and marches him down the hall back toward the administration block. He’s just… fuck, he’s so stupid. Connor’s pissed at him, his hand hurts and he’s just completely fucked up his life again, fucked everything up, because there’s no way he’s going to be able to stay with Heidi now, there’s no way she’s going to let him stick around, there’s no way no way no way.

Of course he’s fucked it all up. 

Of course he’s fucked  _ everything  _ up. 

He’s been fucked up his whole life, this stupid, broken, unwanted mess, and now when things might be finally turning around for him, he can’t help but ruin it, because that’s what he does, he ruins things. Ruins everything. 

It’s not long before he’s being ushered into the principal’s office along with Jared and Connor. Jared’s nose is still bleeding and he’s not wearing his glasses and part of Evan wants to laugh because he’s got that douchey spiked hair that’s weirdly popular but parts of it are flat now so he just looks totally ridiculous. 

Evan doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t do anything except sit there. 

Neither does Connor. 

“Alright,” says the principal, his face stony. “I need the three of you to explain what the hell happened.”

“Connor didn’t do anything,” Evan says immediately. “He was just standing there, he didn’t do anything.” He glares at Jared. “Jared called him a school shooter.” 

Jared glares back. “It was a joke.” He looks at the principal, his face the picture of innocence. “And okay, it was in bad taste, but Connor and I go way back. He  _ knows  _ I was joking.”

“No, I don’t,” says Connor, his voice dull. He’s got his arms wrapped around his torso and he’s not looking at anyone. 

“I clearly misread the situation,” says Jared smoothly, shooting Connor a withering look. “I was just trying to welcome him back to Harbor. Clearly we don't have the same sense of humor.”

“That’s bullshit,” Evan mutters. 

The principal raises his eyebrows. “Excuse me, Mr. Hansen?”

Evan feels his shoulders tense, then takes a breath and looks this guy in the eye. “Calling someone a school shooter isn’t a j-joke,” he says, trying to sound braver than he feels. “You c-can’t just brush it off by saying it’s… subjective humor or whatever. Connor didn’t d-do anything, it was completely unprovoked. He shouldn’t b-be in trouble.”

“If anything’s unprovoked, it’s you punching me,” Jared snaps, glaring at Evan. “I was trying to help you get to your classes and this is how you react?” He looks at the principal. “Principal Sanson, I don’t know about you but this is not the kind of person I want attending my school.”

The principal looks unimpressed at Jared’s comment. “And jokes about school shootings are not the kind of thing I want to be hearing at  _ my  _ school.”

Jared opens his mouth, then closes it, like he’s thought better of it. 

The principal looks at the three of them. After a moment, he speaks. “Mr. Kleinman. Mr. Murphy. I would suggest that the two of you keep any personal issues you may have off campus. The two of you may go.”

Connor’s head shoots up and he looks at the principal, then at Evan, his eyes wide. He looks like he’s about to say something for a moment. 

He doesn’t. 

Jared and Connor leave, both glaring daggers at each other, and then it’s just Evan and Principal Sanson. 

Evan can’t meet his gaze. 

It’s quiet for a long time. 

“Mr. Hansen,” says Principal Sanson finally. “I had my doubts about allowing you to attend here to begin with. This is a disappointing start.”

Evan can’t look at him. 

“I left some books in my locker,” he says quietly. “Can I get them before you make me leave?”

Once again, it’s quiet. 

“Part of me thinks expelling you is the best course of action,” says the principal after a moment. “But David Henderson was one of my closest friends, and I promised Heidi I would give you a chance.”

Evan finally looks up. The principal doesn’t look happy, but he doesn’t look like he’s completely furious either. 

“What do I have to do?” Evan asks, his voice small.

“You’re on probation,” he replies immediately. “No extracurriculars, and you’ll need to maintain a 3.5 GPA if you want to stay. And you’ll need to actually come to class.” His frown deepens. “I’ve seen your records from your previous school. Attendance cannot be an issue here, Mr. Hansen, or you’re out.” 

Evan nods, feeling his chest tighten. 

He’s on thin ice, but he’s not underwater yet. 

There’s a chance. 

He’s been given another chance. 

He nods. 

There’s a lecture that follows about responsibility and appropriate school conduct, but Evan’s not really listening, just nodding and trying to get his head around the fact that he hasn’t been kicked out. 

Fuck, he needs to get it together. 

He needs to get his shit together. 

When the principal finally lets him leave, Evan’s surprised to find Connor waiting for him outside. Something inside his chest leaps at the sight. 

“Are you okay?” Evan blurts out. 

Connor blinks. Looks genuinely surprised for a moment. His eyes soften.

“What happened?” he demands. “What did they say? Are you being kicked out?”

“I’m on probation,” Evan says, hating how his voice shakes, how his stutter is back with a vengeance. “I, uh… I have to-to keep up a 3.5 GPA and-and I can’t do any extracurriculars and-and I h-have to… n-not have any attendance issues? But they didn’t k-kick me out.”

Connor looks… relieved. Evan feels something in his chest unclench. It looks for a moment like Connor might smile at him. Evan tries to smile back.

Then Connor’s whole face shuts down and he crosses his arms over his chest. 

His next words are deliberate and painful. Evan feels every one of them like a stab to the chest. 

“You need to stay the fuck away from me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "Out Of Control" by Hoobastank.


	9. You Were The Last Good Thing About This Part Of Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan finds a sanctuary. Connor gets to hit something. Both of them survive the first week of school.

Heidi’s in meetings all morning, so it’s not until after lunch that the school finally gets in touch with her. 

She cancels all her meetings for the afternoon and heads down to talk to Greg immediately, because she absolutely needs to hear the whole story before she loses her fucking mind. 

“What the hell happened?” Heidi demands, the minute she and Greg Sanson are alone in his office. 

“Evan punched Jared Kleinman,” says Greg, straight to the point and without preamble, which Heidi appreciates, because the man has a tendency to waffle on. 

“Did he say why?” Heidi asks immediately. 

Greg sighs. “Because Jared made a joke about Connor Murphy being a school shooter, apparently.” He bites his lip. “Jared doesn’t deny it and other students have confirmed it. Jared tried to brush it off as some sort of in-joke between the two of them, but Connor doesn’t seem to see it that way.” 

“That whole family likes to stick their nose in where it doesn’t belong,” says Heidi bluntly, because she’s still pissed at Jenny Kleinman talking her ear off at the fashion show. “Kid needs to learn to control his mouth.”

Greg looks torn. “I’ve already called Jerry about it. He’s apologized on Jared’s behalf and the school is getting a brand new library addition.”

Heidi blinks. 

For a moment, she can genuinely picture herself pulling back her first and punching Greg in the nose. Picture it extremely vividly. 

Fucking hell, these people are infuriating sometimes. 

Who can blame a confused sixteen-year-old for reacting similarly? Especially when said sixteen-year-old clearly learned to throw a punch for a reason? 

“So that’s what it takes?” Heidi demands, still seeing red. “Well, let me get my checkbook. You want a new swimming pool? Is this how things work around here?”

Greg just looks at her. “I let this kid in as a favor to you,” he says after a moment. “Because of David. You and I both know that if David were here-”

“He’d be begging you to give this kid a chance,” Heidi finishes, because she knows. She knows this. And while part of her is pissed that people keep telling her what her husband would have done, like they knew him the best, another part is just grateful that someone, in a strange, roundabout way, she still has David at her side for this. 

This would be so much easier if David was sitting next to her. Really sitting here, physically here. But she has to make do with wielding his memory like a sword. It seems to be enough for some people, but not for her. 

Not for her. 

“I’m not kicking him out,” says Greg after a moment. “But he’s on probation.”

“And what does that mean?” Heidi asks immediately.

“No extracurriculars,” Greg says, and Heidi nods because she doubts Evan’s much of a joiner anyway. “No unexplained absences - he has to show up to school. His attendance records from his old school are pretty terrible.” He pauses for a moment. “And he needs a 3.5 GPA.”

Heidi blinks. “He’s sitting on a 2.2,” she says after a moment. 

“New semester, clean slate,” says Greg. He looks at her intently. “I’ve seen that kid’s test scores. They’re amazing. Put a lot of our brightest and best to shame.” There’s a ghost of a smile on his face. “This doesn’t leave this room, but… Evan’s scores are better than every single junior at this school. He even beat out Alana Beck and she’s a shoo-in for valedictorian next year.”

Something in Heidi’s chest leaps. “So what are you saying?”

Greg leans in. “I’m saying that if he buckles down and works, Evan could be very successful here. Very successful.” Something flashes across his face that Heidi can’t quite place. “I know you’d like to keep his background quiet for the time being, and I respect that, but if Evan put the work in and stuck around, he has a shot at an Ivy League university.” He smiles a little. “And I’m sure he’d write one hell of an entrance essay.”

The penny drops. “You want to see Evan do well here,” she says slowly, “because it would be good publicity for the school. Kid from Chino gets into trouble, shows up in Newport Beach and turns his life around at Harbor High School, due to your quality education.” She tries not to roll her eyes. “Nothing to do with his raw talent, obviously, it’s all you.” 

Greg smiles thinly. “We don’t just accept anyone here. The community wouldn’t stand for it.”

“Let me guess,” Heidi asks, trying to keep her voice light. “Eric Roliardi was the last scholarship kid you had at Harbor?” 

Greg’s face drops. Heidi’s pretty sure she’s hit the nail on the head. It takes him a moment to respond, but it’s a smooth recovery. “Eric’s pre-law,” he says, something almost greasy in his voice. “He’s saving up for law school after his undergrad. David used to ask about him all the time. He’s only a sophomore, but he’s promising.” 

“Have you actually had anyone else here on scholarship?” Heidi presses. 

Greg looks her straight in the eye. His answer makes her stomach churn. 

“The school board isn’t in the habit of taking on bets they know they won’t win.” 

Once she’s finished with Greg, Heidi asks if she can have a word with Evan. The receptionist nods and barely ten minutes later, Evan’s at the office, his face pale, his eyes dark and sad. 

He looks… terrified. 

Fucking terrified. 

“You’re kicking me out,” he says dully, the minute they’re alone in a way too fancy conference room. 

“The principal said you can stay,” Heidi replies, frowning a little. “Did he not tell you that?”

“He did,” says Evan, his voice even more dead. “But  _ you’re  _ kicking me out. Right? I got into a fight, so… you’re here to tell me you don’t want me here.”

Something in Heidi’s chest is screaming. 

“I’m not here to tell you that,” she says, as gently as she can. “I just…” She looks at him, looks at him intently until he meets her gaze. “Evan, what were you thinking? You can’t pull shit like this, not in your situation.”

Evan sags into his seat. It’s like all the fight has been drained out of it. 

“It was stupid,” he says quietly. “I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry, he didn’t even…”

Evan trails off. His mouth clamps shut. 

Heidi waits. 

Finally, Evan speaks again. “Connor hates me,” he confesses in this small voice. “He yelled at me for punching Jared. Told me to stay away from him.”

Heidi’s stomach churns uncomfortably, a cold sensation going through her. “He did?”

She thinks back to her conversation with Larry. 

Her suggestion that Connor and Evan stay away from each other. 

She thinks back to how worried and scared Connor had been about Evan, how much he’d seemed to care. 

Did Larry talk to Connor? What did he say?

Evan looks so hurt. 

So fucking hurt. 

Heidi hates it, she hates it a lot, but she can’t deny that a part of her is relieved at the thought of Evan staying away from Connor. 

Evan might have a chance of staying out of trouble if he’s away from Connor. 

Evan shrugs. “I mean, I thought… thought we were f-friends, or w-whatever it doesn’t matter it’s stupid I’m stupid so fucking stupid I-”

“You are not stupid,” Heidi interrupts firmly. “You’re not. You’re smart and you’re compassionate and you want to stand up for what’s right. I see that, okay? I see that. You want to stick up for people, and that’s a great quality to have.” She looks at him. “It’s something you and I have in common, okay? Wanting to help people.”

Evan blinks. His eyes are big and sad. 

He doesn’t say anything. 

“I love that you want to help,” Heidi continues after a while. “But right now? The person who needs the most help? It’s you. So I need you to focus, okay? Focus on looking after yourself. Working hard at your studies, going to school… focus on yourself. You need to look after yourself.”

Something in Evan’s face… goes even duller. For a moment, she’s sure he’s going to cry. 

“Okay,” he says after a moment. He tries to smile, this awful grimace that doesn’t sit well on his face. “That makes sense.” He shrugs. “It’s not like anyone else is going to look after me, right? I gotta be smart.”

Heidi’s heart seizes. That’s not what she meant. 

She didn’t mean to imply she didn’t care, that she didn’t want to help him, because that’s all she wants. 

It’s all she wants. 

But she can’t figure out what to say to make this better. Not right now. Not when he looks so sad, so downtrodden. 

“I’ll come pick you up at the end of the school day,” she says after a moment, a little helplessly. “We’ll go get ice cream somewhere. Celebrate you getting through the day. Sound good?”

Evan looks at her. His face shuts down. He nods. “Okay.”

* * *

Zoe makes it to fourth hour before the story catches up to her.

Three whole periods of blissful ignorance shattered because of Dana P.’s huge mouth. 

Zoe’s especially not amused because Dana P. is new this year. As in, today is her first day, but she’s already slinging gossip like a pro. Jesus. 

The story, as Dana tells it, goes like this: Jared said something about Connor shooting up the school, and then Connor  _ and  _ Evan dogpiled on him and kicked his ass. 

Zoe isn’t, like, surprised but the story does piss her off. 

And also… what the fuck is Evan doing at school? Like. He’s just visiting his aunt. Why would he be here on the first day of school? Doesn’t he go to school in Seattle? Is he moving here? Is he living with Heidi? Something weird is going on and nobody seems to be talking about that. 

She tries to remember how long Heidi said Evan was staying when they went shopping, but Zoe genuinely can’t. She can’t remember if Heidi said anything at all about it. Zoe sort of assumed that Evan was just visiting, just temporary. She didn’t expect him to, like, show up to fucking school today. 

By lunch, there’s a rumor that Evan is a bodyguard that the Murphys hired to protect Connor. Zoe scoffs at that when Madison parrots it back to her. “That’s fucking stupid,” Zoe says, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Why would they hire a high school kid as a bodyguard?”

Last year, Zoe was lucky. Connor had left behind a reputation, but at least he had  _ left.  _ Without him, Zoe got to be whoever she wanted and other than a few times that people made jokes, everyone pretty much let her. Today she’s been called “Quitter’s sister” three times already and she hates it. 

He’s been back at school with her for less than a full day and he’s already ruining it for her. This is exactly why she didn’t let him drive her this morning. She needs to separate herself from Connor as much as possible. 

Things get filtered through all kinds of stupidity and by the time Zoe arrives in her sixth period study hall, three separate people have told her that Connor threatened to shoot Jared while Evan tackled him. 

Zoe still doesn’t know what actually happened but she’s pretty fucking over it. She’s not even sure she wants to know the real story. 

A few minutes after the bell rings, the classroom door opens and reveals Evan. He gives a late pass to their teacher and sinks into a seat near the back of the room, immediately putting his head down on his desk. 

He doesn’t look like the guy who fought with Brian and Chad this weekend like this. He looks sad and tired and… young. Like he did when they went shopping. 

Some of Zoe’s anger at him ebbs. 

When she told Madison and Sabrina about walking in on the fight, both of them thought it was cute that Evan was defending her honor or whatever. Zoe didn’t exactly see it that way. She thought it was stupid and like he thought he was saving her or whatever. And Chad and Brian are just like that. They say gross shit about her all of the time, and Zoe deals with it because if you make a fuss, you stop getting invited places. 

She’s used to it. She doesn’t need some fucking new guy trying to get with her by beating up on her friends. Not that Brian and Chad are like. Really her friends. But. Close enough. 

But he’s sitting at his desk now, and he doesn’t look like a jerk. He looks like he’s scared. Or worried or. Something. His face is pulled in a frown and his eyes are big and worried and. Fuck. She’ll admit it. She feels bad for him. 

Zoe makes a decision. She gets up out of her seat and slides into the desk beside Evan’s. The teacher basically told them they could do whatever with this hour because nobody has homework on the first day, and people all around them are chatting or texting or whatever. Nobody’s looking at her. 

“Hey,” She says. 

Evan looks up. His eyes are still kind of dull and sad. “Hi.”

“Heard that apparently my family hired you to be Connor’s bodyguard,” Zoe says lightly. “Is going psycho on guys for me included in that fee, or do you charge extra for that?”

Evan’s face falls. “I’m sorry.” He bites his lip. “That was stupid. I-I’m stupid.”

“There you go apologizing again,” Zoe says, blowing some hair out of her face. She looks his way after a minute. “I appreciate it and whatever, but. I can fight my own battles. Brian and Chad are morons.”

“Sorry.”

Zoe tucks her hair behind her ears and glances at Evan again. She makes sure nobody’s listening before saying, “Did you really punch Jared Kleinman this morning?”

Evan shuts his eyes for a second, like he’s embarrassed. “Yeah.” 

Zoe bites her lip. “Because he said something to Connor?”

Evan nods. “Said he looked like a… like a school shooter.” He looks down at his desk. “He’s a prick.”

Zoe laughs. “Yeah, dude, everyone knows that. But, like, also he has dirt on  _ everyone _ . And his parents are, like, richer than god. He’s not somebody worth messing with, he can make your life hell.” She bites the inside of her cheek for a second. “But… it’s kind of cool that you punched him. Even if it was stupid.”

Evan looks at her strangely, like he’s in awe of her or something weird like that, and his cheeks go pink. He looks back down at his desk. “At the party…” Evan says. “People really don’t. Don’t seem to like your brother.”

Zoe rolls her eyes. “Yeah. I mean, like, I  _ know _ he’s my brother but… He’s kind of a freak. Like he just. He makes shit hard on purpose. Gets into stupid fights and does dumb shit. Like he got thrown out of boarding school for being dumb and smoking weed on school property. It’s like he wants to make things harder on himself. And me.” She shrugs. “He just doesn’t know when to stop being an idiot and he’s pissed a lot of people off.”

Evan nods. He looks like he might ask her something else. His mouth opens, but then he shuts it again like he was reconsidering whatever it was. 

“So…” Zoe goes on because, well, she is curious. “You’re in school. Here.”

“Yeah,” Evan says softly. 

“Are you staying with Heidi then?”

He shrugs. Nods. “I guess.”

“Like… permanently?” Zoe goes on because she’s confused. She thought he was only visiting, but now he’s enrolled in school. It’s weird. Evan doesn’t say anything. “What about your parents?”

“What about them?” he says dully, his finger tracing some graffiti on the desk. 

“Well… why aren’t you with them?”

Evan stares at her, his eyes looking super sad, but then the bell rings. He’s out of his desk quickly, gone in a few seconds. 

That’s… 

Whatever it is, it’s probably sad, Zoe thinks. It doesn’t make sense that he would just, like, suddenly be living with Heidi out of nowhere. Maybe something happened to his parents. She feels… kind of sad for him.

* * *

Connor spends lunch in the library. He can’t risk the cafeteria, can’t stomach the thought of eating alone, or eating period, so he skips out on it and goes to the library. Hides out in the stacks, looking over shelves and shelves of poetry and trying super hard not to freak out. 

God, he’s such an asshole. 

_ “You need to stay the fuck away from me.” _

He just… obviously it’s stupid if Evan’s around him. Obviously. The guy’s clearly got some pent up rage but if he keeps hanging around Connor, he’s going to end up in fucking jail again because people don’t like Connor. 

They just don’t like him. 

He makes it through lunch. Heads to his AP History class. When the teacher takes attendance, people snicker and laugh when his name is read out. He feels his face getting hot, the back of his neck and his ears growing warm, but Connor refuses to engage. He outright refuses. 

Brian Harris calls him a fag in gym class because Connor didn’t change. It’s the first day and he doesn’t have a gym uniform yet. He’s sitting on the sidelines, arms wrapped around himself because it’s absolutely freezing in the gym, and people immediately start in on the jokes about how Connor’s got his period. 

But Connor doesn’t engage. He just stares back, dead eyes, until Brian gets spooked and walks away. 

Either Connor or Evan busted his lip this weekend, apparently, because he’s still got a fat lip and a huge scab. 

Good. 

_ “You need to stay the fuck away from me.” _

God, what a dickish thing to say. He could have been nicer. He could have explained better. 

But something about Evan tells Connor that he’s stubborn, that he’s not the kind you shake loose that easily, so he took the simplest route and it worked. Even if it makes him a total asshole, at least it worked. 

Evan’s in his English class. Connor hates it. He’d hoped he could just… avoid him for the rest of eternity. 

Evan looks fucking sad. The idea that Connor caused that sadness is giving him a stomach ache. 

Or maybe he just has a stomach ache in general. 

But he feels like shit, looking at Evan. He hates that he’d done this. He hates himself he’s so stupid he’s so stupid. He should apologize. He should tell Evan the truth, that he’s scared of getting Evan into more trouble. That he’s scared in general. He’s always scared, he’s scared of hurting people. 

He’s always fucking hurting people. 

He just hurts people. 

He thinks about how his dad keeps checking on him, how his mom won’t look at him, how Zoe thinks he’s ruining everything for her. 

Because he probably is. 

He just ruins everything. 

Fuck, and the worst part is… 

The worst part is that meeting Evan is probably the best thing that has happened to Connor in months. And they don’t even know each other. 

How fucking sad is that?

That he’s so desperate for anything, anyone to pay attention to him that he will take anything. He’ll take someone so rash he’ll punch a guy who makes fun of Connor after less than forty-eight hours of knowing each other. 

He spends the entire class trying not to just… watch Evan. Observe him like a creep. But he can’t help himself. He watches him anyway. 

His hair is a little bit wavy at the top. Not a whole lot, but a little. It looks like there’s some product in it, but not the obnoxious crunchy amount guys around here use. Connor likes it. 

And Evan’s got these like… insanely nice eyes. They’re so dark that Connor initially thought they must be brown, but upon seeing him in the light of day he realizes they’re actually a super deep blue. 

He has a kind face. Like, sure, it’s a good face. An attractive one. But something about his eyes and lips and nose project out warmth. Kindness. Empathy. 

Connor feels his insides churning with guilt because he knows now he’s never going to get to look Evan in the face the same way again. He’s ruined it. 

He had to but still… 

Connor notices that Evan taps his pen against his lips when he thinks. He bites his fingernails. Evan always seems to be touching his face in some way. Covering his mouth, resting his head against his hand, propping his chin on his folded arms, head down on his desk. 

Fuck. 

Connor’s such an idiot. He shouldn’t even be looking. 

Connor swings by his locker at the end of the day. Habitually, he walks to his old locker before realizing his mistake. The two are virtually identical and in the same hallway, but his old one haunts him. 

He’d left the note in there freshman year. He didn’t want his parents to be the ones to find it. 

He didn’t expect Jared to get his combination to grab his books from school. 

At the end of ninth grade, back when Connor couldn’t see living through the summer let alone the next three years, someone had scrawled “QUITTER” in sharpie on his locker door. 

* * *

Heidi does, in fact, take Evan out for ice cream after school. 

Well, it’s gelato, apparently, which is Italian and had less fat in it, according to Heidi. It’s not exactly something Evan worries about, how much fat food has in it, but he supposes that people around here do. 

He gets a scoop of something called stracciatella, which looks like a fancier version of plain chocolate chip, and it’s genuinely delicious. Heidi gets pistachio, which Evan wasn’t even aware was a flavor any kind of ice cream could come in, and the two of them end up sitting on the beach to eat. 

The spot on the beach that they’re sitting on is quiet and nice and there’s no one else there, nothing there except for a small building. On closer inspection, Evan can see it’s a beach house, much like the one at the party on Friday after the fashion show. 

Heidi looks almost embarrassed when she sees Evan looking at the house. 

“It’s David’s,” she says quietly. Her cheeks turn pink. “Well, I guess it’s mine, now. I don’t go into the house often but I like the beach sometimes. I like knowing that no one else is going to be here.”

“It’s a private beach?” Evan asks, pretty sure he already knows the answer. 

Heidi nods. Smiles a little. “It’s ridiculous, is what it is. People shouldn’t own beaches.” She gestures out to the ocean, to the waves. “Seriously. Look at that. Do those waves look like they think they belong to someone?”

Evan follows her gaze out to the water. He shakes his head. 

“We used to try to spend at least a few days here every summer,” says Heidi, her voice sad. “When we were first married, we’d come out for a week. It was really nice.” She sighs. “Then we got busy and the time we spent out here got less and less and eventually…”

She trails off and doesn’t continue. 

Evan digs his tiny spoon into his gelato and keeps eating, still focused on the water. 

Chino is about an hour’s drive from Newport Beach. 

He’s lived an hour from the ocean his entire life, but until he came to Newport, he’d only ever seen it once.

There’s probably some fucking symbolism in there. Something incredible being so close but so far away, out of reach even though it’s right there. 

But here he is. 

Sitting on a private beach eating fancy ice cream with his lawyer. 

This is not where he thought he’d end up when he got arrested on Wednesday night. 

It’s been less than a week. This whole whirlwind has taken less than a week. 

His entire life has been upended in less than a week. 

It doesn’t seem real. None of this seems real. 

But here he is. 

“I’m going to try harder,” Evan tells Heidi, still looking out to the ocean. “I swear I am.”

Heidi’s voice is soft and kind when she replies. “I know you are.”

Evan looks at her. “I don’t… I don’t want you to think that I don’t appreciate what you’ve done for me,” he says, his voice careful. “I know it might seem like I don’t, what with everything that’s happened. Getting in fights and stuff. I’m really, really sorry, and I promise I’m going to stay out of trouble from now on.”

Heidi looks at him and smiles a little. “I just want you to be safe,” she says, her voice soft and genuine. “I can’t even imagine how much of a whirlwind this all must have been.”

Evan shrugs, even though that was exactly what he was thinking just a moment ago. Exactly. He looks back out at the ocean. Watches the waves, watches as they move. 

He likes that they’re always moving, weirdly. 

He likes it a lot. 

Evan thinks back to sitting on the beach at the party on Friday night with Connor, looking out at the waves in the dark, wild and beautiful. 

He takes in a deep breath and smells salt in the air. 

He likes it. Likes it a lot. 

“Maybe we could come out here again,” Evan says tentatively. He offers Heidi a small smile. “Over the weekend? If I survive the first week of school.”

Heidi smiles back at him. “It’s a deal.”

Evan looks out at the water and tells himself that he can make it. He can deal with the rich assholes and the too-fancy campus and the classes that are nowhere near as easy as the ones back home and the fact that the one person he thought might get him, the one person who knows who he really is, wants him to stay the fuck away from him. 

He can deal with all of that if he knows that at the end of the week, he’ll be back here, watching the waves crash on the shore. Smelling the salt in the air. 

Evan likes it here. 

It’s peaceful, but it’s not still. The water’s still moving, churning, never stopping, and something about it makes his chest ache like his heart is trying to escape and leap into the ocean because it wants to be there or some poetic bullshit like that. 

He promises himself that he’ll be back here. 

He’ll focus on getting through, and he’ll be back here soon. 

On Friday afternoon, Heidi picks him up from school. Instead of her usual pantsuit, she’s in a sundress and flip flops, her hair in a messy bun. She grins at him, and gestures to the backseat. 

“I hope you don’t mind, but I packed up some of your clothes and books,” she says. “I thought we might spend the weekend at the beach house.”

Evan feels his whole face erupt into a smile. “Yeah?” 

Heidi’s grin gets even wider. “Yeah.”

“I’d really like that,” says Evan, feeling warm all over. Heidi pulls out of the parking space and Evan lets out a breath, feeling some of the tension leave his shoulders. 

As they drive, he thinks to himself that it all could be worse. He’s survived his first week at Harbor. Jared has been glaring daggers at him in the math class they share but he’s corrected Jared’s wrong answers three times already, which is more satisfying than he cares to admit. 

That jackass isn’t as smart as he thinks he is. 

In AP Biology, he’s been assigned someone named Alana as his lab partner, who has already lodged a complaint that she’s got a lab partner who might not last the semester and is possibly the most intense human being he has ever met in his life, but she’s smart as hell and wants to focus on the work, which suits Evan just fine. 

By Friday’s lab, Alana begrudgingly admits that at least Evan knows what he’s doing, so he’s going to take that as a victory. 

The course load is so heavy that Evan spends all of study hall with his nose in a book instead of talking to Zoe, but that’s probably just as well because Zoe seems determined to start a conversation that he knows won’t go anywhere good. He likes that she notices him, though. Likes her small, subtle smile, likes the way she scribbles stars on the edge of her notes as she sits next to him. 

The blue streaks in her hair are fading. Evan likes them like this, a little less intense. It seems to suit her more. 

Not that he actually knows Zoe Murphy. 

Not that he knows anyone. 

He thought he might know Connor, or at least start to, but he seems to have decided to pretend like Evan doesn’t exist in the English class they share. 

Evan has decided to pretend it doesn’t hurt. 

* * *

Connor survives the first week of school. 

Part of him realizes he didn’t really expect to. Like. Not that he was planning to do anything. Not that he wants to… 

He doesn’t. He won’t. Not again. 

He doesn’t think. 

But he isn’t thinking that way. He more expected that he might get hit by a car or struck by lightning or something. Like he expected the world to just decide that actually, nah, it wasn’t interested in Connor Murphy anymore. 

But it doesn’t. And he makes it through the week. His parents insist on taking him and Zoe out to dinner on Friday night to celebrate. Zoe’s pissed because she is supposed to be at a party with Madison. Connor’s pissed because he fully intended to come home from school and sleep until Sunday. He’s so damn tired. 

His dad is the only one trying to keep the conversation afloat. His mom keeps drinking wine and complaining that this restaurant’s vegan options are limited. 

Connor can tell his dad is over this dinner already because he mutters, “The  _ wine  _ is vegan, Cynthia.” 

She finishes her glass and then snaps at Connor to stop picking at his nail polish. 

“Sorry,” he says softly. 

“If you’re going to wear that, you could at least have the decency not to leave flecks of it everywhere you go.” 

Connor feels like he’s going to snap. Zoe keeps rolling her eyes and complains that her friends are texting her. She has a new phone, one of those Sidekick things, and she keeps pulling it out and texting and sighing. 

He picks at his salad and tries to tune out everyone. His dad pointedly asks Connor how he’s finding his new AP classes and he shrugs and says they’re fine. He doesn’t feel like talking. He’s so tired. He feels exhausted just from chewing a slice of cucumber and lifting his glass of water to his mouth. 

Zoe’s also picking at her food, Connor notices. Their dad comments that he wouldn’t have suggested going out if he knew nobody would be eating. Zoe rolls her eyes. 

His dad looks to his mom, but she’s apparently preoccupied with drinking her dinner and frowning off into the middle distance. 

“So,” his dad says, his tone brightening in this extremely forced way. “Your birthday is coming up.”

Connor bites his lip. God it’s so embarrassing that they have the same birthday. He wishes you could petition to change your birthday like you can change your name. It’s a dumb thing to share, especially because they aren’t twins. Zoe’s eyes slide over to Connor and she says, her tone clipped, “I’m turning sixteen. I think we’re way too old for joint parties.”

_ Oh thank God,  _ Connor thinks. The idea of having to pretend like he had friends to invite to a party. “Yeah, same.” 

Their dad nods. “I can respect that.”

“It’s my sixteenth,” Zoe goes on, and she’s putting on this ridiculous pouty voice. “And I’d really love it if I could have people over. Maybe like a pool party or something?” 

His dad nods. “Sure.” He looks at Connor. “What are you thinking?”

Connor shrugs. His preference would be to do nothing, not acknowledge the day at all. That’s what he did last year. Last year Miguel found out it was his birthday at 11:45pm and then he hugged Connor. And Connor sort of fell into it, just relaxed into it in a way he’d never done before. 

And when M kissed him a few weeks later, it was like Connor had been waiting for it. And it was all he wanted at that time. 

So no. He’s not interested in celebrating his birthday this year. Connor thinks he would rather just spend the day in his room, alone. 

“Come on, there’s got to be something.” 

Connor shrugs. 

* * *

The weekend at the beach house is the most fun Heidi can remember having in a long time. 

A really long time. 

When they arrive at the house, it takes them a while to get settled. No one’s been in this house for over a year, if not longer, and it’s musty inside. Heidi and Evan set about dusting and vacuuming and opening all the windows and doors to get some air through the place. It’s hard work, but Evan doesn’t complain. He almost seems to enjoy it. 

Heidi does too, she thinks. It’s been too long since she’s done some proper housework. Having Rosa looking after the house means she doesn’t have to think about it, but there’s something satisfying about actually cleaning yourself. 

When it’s done, they’re both sneezing a little and Heidi definitely feels like she could use a shower and a nap, but the house feels less huge and overwhelming. 

And she feels… less small, somehow. 

Like she’s exorcised a ghost. 

There’s no food in the house and Heidi’s never been much of a cook, so they head to this diner that Heidi remembers going to with David. The food is cheap and tasty and exactly like she remembers. 

She decides not to mention that she used to come here with David to Evan. God knows he’s heard enough about her dead husband in the last week. 

It’s just… nice to talk to another human being sometimes. 

She likes talking to Evan. 

He’s easy to talk to. He’s intelligent. He’s kind and he’s… loyal. 

Heidi can’t stop thinking about how he punched someone for calling Connor a school shooter, despite having known Connor for less than 48 hours. Can’t stop thinking about the desperate expression on Connor’s face, begging her not to kick him out when he brought Evan home from that party. 

Evan’s loyal, and he inspires loyalty in people. 

That’s not something everyone has. 

Heidi’s just going to have to help him hone it a little. 

Once they’ve had dinner, they end up sitting on the front porch of the beach house reading for a couple of hours. When Heidi finds herself struggling to keep her eyes open, she tells Evan she’s heading to bed, and he follows suit. 

The next morning when she wakes up, she puts on some coffee then heads outside to look at the ocean. It was kind of her routine whenever she and David spent a weekend here, and she realizes as she hears the waves just how much she missed it. 

It takes her a moment to notice there are two figures standing in front of the house and her eyes widen in surprise. There’s Evan, in shorts and a t-shirt, and Larry Murphy in a wetsuit. 

“Morning,” she calls out, heading down the steps and onto the beach. 

Larry turns to look at her, something apologetic in his expression. “Sorry Heidi, I didn’t realize you two were here,” he says sheepishly. “David always said if I wanted to surf I should use your beach. I’ve gotten into a bit of a routine since he passed. I should have checked in with you, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not a problem,” Heidi says immediately, smiling a little. Despite the fact that the two men were constantly trying to one-up each other, David had always considered Larry a close friend. It’s nice to see that friendship still seems to mean something to Larry. “I’ve put coffee on, you want some?”

“Sounds great,” says Larry with a nod. Then he looks at his wetsuit. “Only I don’t want to track sand all the way through your house.”

Heidi rolls her eyes. “It’s a beach house. There’s supposed to be sand.”

Larry looks unsure, so Heidi rolls her eyes again and says she’ll bring everything out to the porch. She heads back into the kitchen to grab the coffee pot, mugs, along with the cream and sugar they bought on the way back last night. On a whim, she adds the packet of pastries they picked up to the tray. 

It’s probably not as fancy as what the Murphys are used to for breakfast. Last Heidi heard, Cynthia had hired an in-home chef. 

Of course, that was a while ago. 

The three of them sit at the picnic table on the porch and Heidi sets about pouring coffee for everyone and handing out danishes. Evan looks a little uncomfortable, and Heidi can’t exactly blame him, considering Evan’s interactions with both Murphy siblings since he arrived. 

She’s not stupid. As much as he tries to hide it, she saw the way he looked at Zoe during that shopping trip. And then there’s whatever went down between him and Connor. 

Having breakfast with their dad is probably pretty low on his list of fun ways to spend a Saturday morning. 

“Evan was telling me how he was getting settled at Harbor,” says Larry, his tone bright. “Sounds like he’s rising to the challenge.”

“It’s d-different from my old school,” says Evan, his voice shaky. “But that’s probably a good thing.”

Heidi nods. Looks at Evan and smiles encouragingly. “After Monday, there haven’t been any more problems, so that’s good.”

Larry raises his eyebrows. “What happened on Monday?”

Oh shit. 

Evan’s face drains of color. He looks into his coffee mug like it’s going to give him the answer, then finally speaks. “I p-punched Jared Kleinman because he called Connor a school shooter.” He looks at Heidi. “I’m not really h-hungry. Is it okay if I go for a walk?”

Larry looks completely shocked. Heidi sighs. 

“Sure, sweetie. Don’t go too far though, okay?”

Evan nods. “Okay.”

He’s down the steps to the beach in the blink of an eye. As soon as he’s out of earshot, Larry turns to Heidi, his expression murderous. “Jared Kleinman said  _ what  _ about my son?”

“Jerry gave the school a new library,” Heidi replies with a roll of her eyes. “So that’s all water under the bridge, apparently.”

Larry still looks furious. “I’ll be talking to Jerry about this.”

Heidi raises her eyebrows. “And that’ll accomplish what, exactly? I spent an hour on the phone with Jerry listening to him rant about how he was going to press charges against me for what my nephew did to Jared’s face.”

Larry stirs his coffee with more force than strictly necessary. “You tell him he so much as thinks about pressing charges and I’ll go to press about all the interns he’s slept with.”

Heidi just looks at Larry. “Come on, Murphy. What am I, some kind of amateur?” She takes a bite out of a danish, swallows, then smiles sweetly. “I’m still friends with the security guy at the firm. He’s got it all on tape. Jerry needs to stop fucking people in his office.”

Larry lets out an almost growl of frustration, then aggressively rips a chunk off a croissant. He sighs, then looks at Heidi. “Evan stood up for Connor.”

“He did,” Heidi confirms. She bites her lip, then continues. “And Connor told him to leave him alone.” Larry’s face goes pale, and her suspicions are confirmed. “You told him to keep his distance, didn’t you.”

Larry nods. He looks pained. “The look on his face, Heidi…”

Heidi sighs. “If it’s anything like how sad Evan looked on Monday, I know how you feel.”

They sit there drinking coffee and eating pastries in silence for a long moment. 

“Are we doing the right thing, trying to separate them?” Larry asks. He sounds… small, somehow. 

Small isn’t a word Heidi has ever associated with Larry Murphy. 

She’d started at the firm fresh out of law school a few months after Larry and David had both made junior partner. The two of them were inseparable, but Heidi was never quite sure if they hated each other or were best friends. It took a few months, but eventually, Heidi got a bit more insight into the relationship between the two men. 

She vividly remembers after work drinks where one of the paralegals had drunkenly told her the story. “Larry’s married to Cynthia,” the woman had said, with all the enthusiasm of someone who had some truly juicy gossip. “But everyone knows that Cynthia and David were high school sweethearts. They grew up next door to each other, their parents were friends, they dated on and off all throughout high school. Cynthia was always the one to call it off and he just kept taking her back. They went to colleges out of state but both ended up here in Newport after finishing their undergrad. David went to law school here in California and we all thought they might finally make it work, but then Larry showed up and threw a spanner in the works.”

“So Larry’s not from here?” Heidi remembers asking. 

The paralegal shook her head. “No, he’s east coast. He and David have been in constant competition ever since they met.”

Heidi had taken a sip of her cocktail, then looked over at the two men, both involved in a heated game of pool. “Who’s winning?”

The paralegal had grinned then. “Hard to say,” she said. “David was top of the class at law school, but Larry was only a few points behind him. They started here at the same time, and David made junior partner a week before Larry did.”

“So it’s David, then.”

The woman had fixed Heidi with a look then. “Yes and no,” she’d said with a smirk. “Which one of them’s married to Cynthia Nichols?”

Heidi remembers how she’d made the connection then. “Don’t the Nichols own basically half of the real estate in Newport Beach?”

The paralegal had smiled then. “That they do. Larry’s done well for himself, for a nobody from New Hampshire.”

Heidi still balks at the idea of a woman being a prize to be won. It doesn’t sit right, makes her uncomfortable, but she has to admit it stuck with her. When David first asked her out, she’d driven herself crazy, wondering if she was just a consolation prize. 

Wondering if Cynthia was the one he really wanted. 

It hadn’t taken long for her to realize that couldn’t be further from the truth, that David’s affection for Cynthia was different to the way he felt about Heidi. She was important to him, that much he freely admitted to, but they’d been together as teenagers, not adults. Cynthia was like family to him. 

If they were family to David, Heidi had decided, then Larry and Cynthia would be family to her. 

That’s how she treated them until David died. 

David died, and the friendship she thought she had with Cynthia Murphy went up in flames in a truly spectacular fashion. 

Still, she’s known Larry for years. Worked with him for years. Even though Cynthia went off the deep end after David died, that’s not Larry’s fault. They’ve managed to stay friends. 

Well, not friends, exactly. 

Friendly. Friend-adjacent. 

“I don’t know,” Heidi says, snapping back to the question Larry had asked her. “I get the feeling that Evan doesn’t make friends easily.”

“Connor certainly doesn’t,” says Larry, and he just sounds so sad, so defeated. “But it’s not fair on Connor to get attached if Evan’s only here temporarily.” He looks at Heidi, his expression questioning. His next words are cautious. “ _ Is _ he only here temporarily? Enrolling him in school… that’s a bold move if he’s not staying.”

“He’s a bright kid,” Heidi says defensively. “He should be in school.”

“Sure,” Larry says with a nod. “But there’s always Newport Union. Public school might be a better fit for him.” He pauses. “If it’s temporary.”

Heidi doesn’t answer. Larry sighs. Fixes her with a look. “You’re about to pull a David, aren’t you.”

Heidi blinks. “What?”

Larry almost smiles. “You’re thinking about doing something stupid and noble and taking this kid in permanently, aren’t you.”

Heidi feels Larry’s words land like a bolt of lightning. Like a kick to the stomach. 

It clicks. 

“Yeah,” she says, realizing as she speaks that he’s absolutely right. “I think I am.”

* * *

Larry’s made a habit of surfing most Saturday mornings since David passed. He and David used to do it together from time to time. At first it felt wrong to be here without him, but it’s become a habit. 

Larry doesn’t expect to find himself crashing Heidi and Evan’s weekend at the beach house. He didn’t know Heidi still came here before today. 

He used to give David so much shit about the beach house. “It’s less than three miles from your actual house!” he’d say. David would laugh it off, tell him to get that chip off his shoulder. 

Anyway, now it’s a habit. 

And so he finds himself interrupting a weekend away with Heidi and Evan. 

Evan’s… not what Larry expected. He hears about a kid who steals cars and gets into fights, and his brain conjured up someone a lot less polite than this Evan kid. He definitely wasn’t imagining someone so soft-spoken and prone to stuttering. 

Larry bids Heidi a good weekend and gets in his car. Drives back home, brain still buzzing with what Heidi told him. 

That Jared Kleinman is a real shithead. Larry’s still thinking about giving Jerry a call and letting him have it for that one. Nobody is allowed to talk to his kids like that. 

School shooter. Fucking  _ Christ.  _

It’s not like Larry’s never worried about that kind of shit. The media’s definitely gotten into his head in the past. He remembers at the end of Connor’s freshman year, when Connor was getting into fights and clearly being bullied, he worried his kid might do something idiotic. Especially after the time he went after his sister. Larry came home from work one night in a complete panic, searched Connor’s room top to bottom, tore apart every drawer and his entire bookshelf. Connor came home in the middle of his frenzied search and demanded to know what the fuck his father was doing. And it wasn’t like Larry was prepared to admit that he was searching for an armory in the making. So he calmly said he was looking for drugs and Connor had stormed out disgusted. 

But since that day, Larry’s never given the idea much more thought. 

And Jared fucking Kleinman deserved to be punched for that comment. 

Fuck Connor doesn’t deserve this. Maybe Larry ought to consider pulling Connor from school. It’s clearly a toxic environment for him, even after a year away. He can’t let his kid go through all of that. Not again. 

When Larry gets home, Connor’s sitting at the table stirring a spoon around in a bowl of cereal. He’s dressed but looks rumpled, like he slept in his clothes. When he sees Larry, he offers a pale smile. Takes a bite of his cereal and pulls a face. 

“Soy milk,” he says by way of explanation. 

Larry nods. Grabs a seat across the table from Connor. Watches as his kid struggles to eat. Like it’s a battle to force down every spoonful. 

Connor looks up at him just as Larry’s about to say he knows about Jared’s comment. 

“I feel like…” Connor says, something in his tone sharper now. He’s clutching his spoon with white knuckles. “Like I really need to fucking hit something.”

Larry blinks. “Okay,” he says, fighting to keep his tone even. 

“Some shit happened at school this week and Zoe woke me by blasting the Black Eyed Peas and…” he shoves another bite into his mouth, his shoulders hunching, like he’s embarrassed he said too much. 

“Give me ten minutes to change,” Larry says. “We’ll go somewhere.”

Connor looks surprised but says nothing. 

Larry hurries upstairs. Knocks on Zoe’s door and tells her to turn her music down. Crosses the hall to get changed. 

Cynthia’s still in bed. He kisses her on the forehead and tells her that he and Connor will be out for a while. She murmurs some sleepy nonsense. 

Connor’s waiting at the bottom of the stairs, looking at his father in confusion. “Where are we going?” he asks. 

“To find something for you to hit.”

“We haven’t done this since I was like twelve,” Connor says when they arrive at the batting cages. 

Larry shrugs. He knows that. 

He let too much slide. 

They head inside. Connor looks apprehensive but he follows. They find a free cage and Larry tells Connor he should go first. 

Connor was never the best at baseball, really. He tended to get distracted in the outfield when he played little league. Staring off at the clouds or daydreaming or telling silly jokes to his teammates. But he could hit well. Almost never struck out. 

When the machine launches the first ball, Connor sends it flying into the net with such velocity that Larry’s genuinely impressed. Connor adjusts his helmet, changes his grip slightly. Waits for the next pitch. Larry hears the crack of the bat hitting the ball, but it happens so fast he blinked and missed it. It soars through the air and Larry smiles to himself. 

“What’s the point of this exactly?” Connor asks, catching the third ball a little too close to the handle of the bat so it mostly just rolls across the sand. 

“You wanted to hit something. So. Hit something.”

Connor frowns at him. Waits for the next ball and swings hard at the exact right moment to send it rocketing straight over the machine. 

He pulls his helmet off and looks at Larry. “Is this some TV psychology bullshit?”

Larry shakes his head. “We haven’t done anything just you and me in a while.”

Connor furrows his brow. “We just had breakfast. Last week.”

Larry feels caught. “Sure but…” he sighs. “We can go if you absolutely hate this.”

Connor blinks. Considers. “It’s your turn,” he says after a moment. 

Larry smiles. 

They go back and forth until their arms get tired. Until Connor’s practically shaking with the effort to keep hitting the balls flying at him. 

“You hungry?” Larry asks his son. Prays the answer is yes. 

Connor shrugs. “I think I’m allergic to soy,” he says instead. “Makes me sick.”

Larry nods. “Okay.” He nods again. “I’ll let your mother know.”

And that’s it. 

Connor doesn’t spill about what’s bothering him, though Larry suspects he already knows. He doesn’t admit that school has already been tough or confess any other problems. Connor asks if they can go home and Larry agrees. Doesn’t push though he wants to. 

Lets Connor chose the radio station. Notices his kid’s lips moving along with some song about closing a goddamn door. 

“You like this band?” Larry asks him. 

Connor almost smiles. “Yeah.”

“What’s it called?”

“Panic! at the Disco,” Connor says, looking embarrassed. “M got me into them last year.” His cheeks go pink. “They’re good, I guess.”

Larry tries to log that away, but his brain sticks on the other nugget of information that Connor’s revealed. 

Miguel. 

Larry frowns a little. “Ah,” he says blandly. Miguel introduced Connor to this band. 

Miguel. Connor’s roommate at Hanover. The one who got caught smoking with Connor the night Connor was expelled. The one who stopped taking his kid’s calls at the start of the summer. Larry’s overheard Connor leaving voicemails in the middle of the night over the summer, almost pleading, asking this M to please just call him back. 

Larry’s chest twinges. 

Larry plays dumb. “You guys still in touch?”

“Sometimes,” Connor lies, looking out the windshield. He’s crossed his arms over his middle, almost like he’s hugging himself. Holding himself together. “He’s pretty busy. School and stuff. And there’s the time difference. You know.” He’s wearing that heartbroken look Larry saw in the diner when he told Connor to keep his distance from Evan. 

Fuck, Larry wants to take a baseball bat to that kid’s head for hurting Connor. He hates it so much. 

He wants to say something comforting, but finds he doesn’t have the words. 

Larry knows. 

He knows Connor is most likely gay. Not that Connor himself has ever admitted it to Larry, but Larry recognized something in his voice whenever Connor would call home and talk about his roommate. 

It had taken Larry by surprise, but when he pieced it all together last winter after Connor returned from Hanover for Christmas with a hickey, Larry had been relieved. Maybe that was the thing that had been causing his kid so much pain and suffering. Maybe that was the thing he was holding inside that was hurting him. 

Larry might not have grown up into the world’s most progressive person, but this suspicion of his. Well it doesn’t bother him. Not really. It worries him, a little, because he knows if Connor really is gay that his life might be harder for that fact. But he understands not being able to control your heart. Who it beats for. 

Lord knows he understands that feeling. 

But the fact doesn’t bother him. 

He just can’t find the words to say that to Connor without crashing and burning the whole conversation. Larry doesn’t know how he can communicate that without undoing this ceasefire they’ve been in since Connor returned home from Hanover. He practices speeches in his head sometimes, as he drives to work or in the bathroom when he’s shaving in the morning. The things he could say to make sure Connor knew that he had Larry’s full support, no matter who he loved. 

But none of them ever seem right. And Larry keeps letting it slide. Putting it off. 

As they pull into the garage, Larry looks over at his son. Goes for a smile. Claps Connor on the shoulder. “You kicked ass today, bud,” he says. 

“Thanks?” Connor says, sounding and looking confused. 

“I’m here,” Larry suddenly finds himself saying. “If you ever -” 

Connor nods rapidly. Larry realizes too late that he’s said too much, offered too much, pushed too hard. Connor’s skittish and suspicious and his entire face shuts down. He holds himself a little tighter. “No, yeah, I mean. I know. I get you.” 

Connor blinks a few times. Something shifts. He’s less closed off, just for a second. “Thanks. Today was… thanks.” He gives Larry the smallest smile and heads into the house. 

Larry figures he’ll call that a win. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "Grand Theft Autumn/Where Is Your Boy" by Fall Out Boy.


	10. I’m A War Of Head Versus Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heidi gets some paperwork signed. Evan and Connor have a late night conversation.

The weekend’s over way too fast. 

Way, way too fast. 

It’s not just that Evan’s not exactly looking forward to being back at school, it’s that… well, apparently, the saying ‘time flies when you’re having fun’ isn’t complete bullshit after all. 

He likes being at the beach house. 

Likes it a lot, in fact. There’s something about being this close to the water that’s soothing and peaceful, even though it’s not really quiet. You can always hear the waves. 

He sleeps well both nights. Wakes up feeling rested. 

He and Heidi don’t do much. Not really. They walk along the beach a little, they read books on the porch. Play a couple of games of Scrabble. 

It’s relaxing. 

Aside from the conversation with Zoe and Connor’s dad. That’s not relaxing at all. 

He hadn’t been expecting to see anyone on the private beach, so when he woke up before Heidi and decided to head straight for the sand, he’d been a little taken aback to see someone surfing. 

He’d sat on the beach and watched for a while, fascinated. He knows nothing about surfing, but whoever is out on the surfboard seemed to be enjoying themselves. After maybe half an hour, the surfer had come back to shore. He’d seemed taken aback to see someone else there.

Evan had stood up, about to ask this guy if he knew it was a private beach, when something like recognition crossed the man’s face. “You must be Evan.”

He hadn’t expected that. “Who are you?” he’d blurted out.

The man had looked at him with an expression that wasn’t quite a smile but didn’t seem angry, either. “Larry Murphy,” he’d said then. “I’m Connor and Zoe’s dad.”

Evan had felt his heart start to beat too fast. “H-hello,” he’d said, trying his hardest to control his stutter. “I, uh… were you looking for Heidi?”

Mr Murphy had blinked, then smiled kind of sheepishly. “I didn’t think you guys would be here,” he’d said, sounding a bit apologetic. “Heidi’s late husband and I used to surf here together. Ever since he passed, I’ve been coming out most Saturdays.” He frowned a little. “I should have mentioned it to Heidi. I didn’t think she came out here anymore.”

Evan had nodded. “She h-hasn’t in a-a while,” he’d managed to stammer out, his voice too quiet to his own ears. “We cleaned up a b-bit yesterday.” He’d looked at Mr. Murphy, trying to figure out what to say. “I d-don’t surf, but you looked like you were h-having fun?”

Mr. Murphy had smiled, a smile that instantly reminded Evan of Connor. 

It kind of hurt a little. 

Stupid, really. 

“I didn’t grow up surfing like David did,” Mr. Murphy had said then, “but I like it. Not about to quit my day job and go pro, but it’s a good hobby.”

Evan nodded. Something had occurred to him. “You and Heidi used to work together? W-with her husband?”

Mr. Murphy had looked a little sad. “Yeah,” he’d said. “David and I went to law school together. Got a job at the same firm right after we passed the bar. I’m still there. Heidi joined us five years later fresh out of law school.” He’d smiled then, just a little. “David was a hell of a lawyer. So’s Heidi.” Mr. Murphy had fixed Evan with a look. “You’re lucky.”

His stomach had clenched a little at that. 

So Connor’s dad knows who Evan really is. 

Knows he’s not actually Heidi’s nephew. 

Mr. Murphy hadn’t said more about it, though. Instead, he’d asked Evan how he liked Harbor so far. 

“It’s d-different,” Evan had said diplomatically. “I, uh… I like it, though?” 

He hadn’t been entirely honest, but he hadn’t exactly lied. Sure, the school is full of entitled rich assholes, but he likes actually being challenged. If it weren’t for the people, he’d probably genuinely enjoy the classes.

“What class is your favorite?” Mr. Murphy had asked then, and Evan hadn’t even had to think about his answer. 

“English.”

Mr. Murphy smiled. “Yeah?”

“I like to write?” Evan had said tentatively. “It’s, uh… I like it. M-makes things clearer, writing things down. I c-can organize my thoughts.”

Mr. Murphy had nodded then, like he understood. “I know what you mean. Having things down on paper means you can really work through things. Useful in my line of work.” He’d smiled then. “Practicing law involves a lot of writing.”

Evan had wanted to reply then, ask for a bit more detail on that, but then Heidi was up and talking to Mr. Murphy and inviting him to have breakfast with them. Which Evan of course ruined by telling Mr. Murphy why he’d punched Jared Kleinman. 

The guy had looked genuinely shocked. Kind of upset, too. 

Evan… doesn’t exactly love that Mr. Murphy was upset, but something inside him twists a bit, thinking about how clearly Connor’s dad gives a shit about him. 

It’s good that Connor’s dad gives a shit. 

Dads are  _ supposed  _ to give a shit. 

They head back to the main house on Sunday afternoon. Heidi seems almost as reluctant to leave the beach house as Evan is, and that makes him happy, somehow. Like there’s something they have in common, something they share. 

He likes that. 

Likes the idea that maybe deep down, he and Heidi aren’t that different after all. 

It’s probably stupid to think that, but…

Evan likes it anyway.

“Another week,” says Heidi as they have dinner. Heidi keeps saying she’s not much of a cook but Evan can tell she’s making an effort, and honestly? It’s better than the crap Elaine used to cook. 

It’s definitely better than his dad not cooking at all. Evan used to go days without eating anything. 

This last week and a half, he’s eaten more regularly than he ever has in his life. Tonight it’s chicken and a salad, and it’s actually pretty good. Nothing fancy, Heidi keeps saying, but honestly? 

It’s pretty fancy. 

Fancier than Evan’s used to. 

He’s eaten a lot of vegetables in the last week and a half. More than he has in the last three years, probably. From the ages of 11 to 14, he existed entirely on peanut butter sandwiches. This chicken and salad is basically a gourmet meal. 

“So,” says Heidi after a while. “There was a message on the machine when we got in. Your hearing is on Friday.”

Evan feels his heart start to beat too fast in his chest. “Okay,” he says, trying to stop his voice from shaking. “What do I need to do?”

“Follow my lead,” Heidi says, her voice confident. “Honestly, you won’t need to say much. I’ve got this. I’m confident I can argue this down to a misdemeanor. It’s your first offense. You’ll probably end up with a small fine and probation.”

“Or I’ll end up in juvie,” Evan says, and he knows his voice is shaking now. Ethan’s spent time in juvie, he knows, and he’s told all sorts of horror stories about getting beaten up and guys who want to make you their bitch and…

Ethan’s full of shit, he reminds himself. Ethan also doesn’t seem to have fucking learned anything from juvie because right now, he’s in jail, and he’s over eighteen. 

Heidi knows what she’s doing, Evan reminds himself. She knows what she’s doing, and for some weird reason, she seems to give a shit about him. 

Evan doesn’t trust easily. He’s never had a reason to. 

But he wants to trust Heidi. 

He wants to be able to trust that Heidi can make everything okay. 

_ That’s fucking pathetic, _ says the voice in his head.  _ It’s fucking pathetic to trust this rich lady who doesn’t know you, doesn’t owe you anything, just because she’s let you stay for a couple of days. You’re pathetic and she’ll figure it out soon enough. You’re kidding yourself if you think this is going to be okay.  _

_ Shut the fuck up, _ he tells the voice in his head. 

It doesn’t shut up, but Evan feels good for having talked back for once. 

He’s never done that before. 

Fucking hell, he’s probably crazy. 

“You won’t end up in juvie,” Heidi says, something fierce in your voice. “I swear. And even if it all goes wrong somehow, I promise that I will do everything I can to get you out. Okay, Evan? You’re not alone here. I’ve got your back, I swear.”

Evan wants to believe her. 

He desperately wants to believe her. 

“I know,” he says after a moment, looking her straight in the eye. 

Her whole face softens. Lights up. 

She smiles, a smile that reaches her eyes, makes her whole face look younger. 

“It’ll get you out of school on Friday, at least,” she says.

Evan hesitates. “What about my attendance?” he asks. “The principal said if I miss out on school…”

“This doesn’t count,” Heidi assures him. “It’s an explained absence.” She smiles. “You’ll be back the following Monday, don’t worry.”

Evan’s going to worry no matter what she says, he knows this. 

But he appreciates her saying it anyway. 

“Whatever happens on Friday,” he says, looking at her. “I just want to say thanks? For everything. Being here has been… really nice.” He smiles at her, trying to put on a brave face even though there’s a lump in his throat. “This weekend was probably the best weekend I’ve had in, like… ever.”

Heidi’s eyes are a little glassy but she’s smiling. “Yeah?”

Evan nods. “Yeah.”

Heidi’s smile widens. “Me too.”

* * *

Heidi spends most of the week working on Evan’s case. Poring over every single detail, trying to make as strong a case as she possibly can. Make sure there are no holes. Nothing that someone can pick to pieces, can find a fault in. 

She doesn’t need to be freaking out as much as she is. She knows she’s freaking out more than she should be. Ever since she started working as a public defender, she hasn’t lost a case. 

A whole year without losing a single case. 

It’s nothing to sneeze at. 

She’s got this in the bag. She knows she does. She’s been thoroughly underestimated every single time she’s gone to court in the last year because people don’t expect much from public defenders and no one seems to do their fucking homework. And even if they do their homework and look her up, they get distracted by her gender and her appearance. 

People have been making jokes about  _ Legally Blonde _ ever since the movie came out, which goes to show that no one in this state has ever had an original thought. 

Heidi’s going to take it as a compliment, anyway. 

She really, really loved that movie. 

So her case is watertight. She knows it is. It doesn’t mean she’s going to stop checking and double-checking and triple-checking. 

She can’t let this kid down. 

She cannot let this kid down. 

Evan is more and more jumpy as the week goes on. Quieter. More withdrawn. He looks at her when he thinks she’s not looking, and he keeps opening his mouth like he’s going to ask a question, but he never does. 

Heidi’s pretty sure she knows what he wants to ask. 

He wants to know what happens after the hearing. What happens next. 

Heidi’s not just working on the hearing. She’s working on a whole other kind of case. 

On Wednesday, she has a meeting with child services. Shows up in her nicest suit, something designer and far too expensive she bought while shopping with Cynthia a few years ago, and she knows she looks good. Strong. Confident. 

She tells Child Services, in no uncertain terms, that when the hearing is over and she wins her case, she wants Evan to stay with her. His dad kicked him out and she doesn’t want him to have to go into the system. She wants to keep him. 

“If you want him to stay with you,” says the caseworker, his voice even, “you’ll have to assume full legal guardianship of him. Full responsibility.”

“I’m aware,” Heidi replies, equally evenly. 

The caseworker she’s dealing with goes over the paperwork. Tells her that given Evan’s history, they’ll be keeping a close eye on them. Checking in regularly to make sure he’s okay, make sure he’s staying out of trouble. 

Make sure Heidi is a fit guardian for him. 

“This all depends on how the hearing goes on Friday, of course,” says the caseworker. He hesitates for a moment, then continues. “We also need to confirm with Evan’s father that he is willing to sign over custody.” There’s something in his expression that Heidi doesn’t like. “Have you made contact with Evan’s father?”

“No,” says Heidi, her chin lifted defiantly. “But I will.”

The caseworker still has that same slightly condescending expression. “If you haven’t made contact, then how do you know that Evan isn’t making it up? You’re obviously well off. It’s possible his father just doesn’t know where he is. That he took off, made up some sob story.”

Heidi raises her eyebrows. “Didn’t your organization spend three years looking for Mark Ogonowski after Margaret Hansen died? Evan was in foster care from just before he turned eight until he was eleven. If it took that long to track the guy down, I hardly think that qualifies him for father of the year.”

The man smiles thinly. “Regardless, we need to follow procedure. Mark Ogonowski will have to sign over guardianship of Evan to you.”

Heidi looks at the caseworker. “I don’t think that will be a problem.”

She drives out to Chino on Thursday, armed with the necessary paperwork. She’s done her research on this guy. Right now Mark Ogonowski is working at a gas station about five minutes from the detention center where Heidi first met Evan. 

It’s as good a time as any to get gas, she figures as she pulls in. The prices are cheaper out here, anyway. 

She supposed they’d have to be. 

It doesn’t take long for her to find Mark. She remembers what he looks like from meeting him briefly outside the detention center. He looks about the same, really. Broad shoulders, dark blond hair the same color as Evan’s. 

He doesn’t recognize her at first, that much is obvious, but he’s definitely eyeing her up. Looking her up and down, checking her out in a way that makes her stomach churn. 

She ignores it. Focuses on her goal. 

“Mark Ogonowski?” she asks as she approaches. “We met a few weeks ago. I’m Heidi Herzberg, Evan’s attorney.”

Mark looks confused for a moment, then nods. “Right. Yeah. He’s in juvie, yeah?”

“No,” she says, trying to keep her tone polite, even though she wants to scream at this asshole. “His hearing is tomorrow. He’s been staying with me since you kicked him out.”

Mark’s eyebrows rise almost comically. “He’s been staying with you? Good for him.”

Heidi tries her best, she really does, but she can’t keep the irritation out of her voice. “What did you think happened to him? He’s your son, you haven’t seen him in two weeks.”

Mark shrugs. “Dunno. He’s sixteen, he can take care of himself. Not like he’s home much anyway, I just figured he was with friends or whatever.”

“He’s sixteen,” Heidi says. “He’s still a minor, and you’re his father.”

Mark frowns. “Look, lady, I don’t know what the hell it is you want from me.”

“Then I’ll cut to the chase,” Heidi says bluntly. “I want Evan to stay with me. But in order for that to happen, I’ll need to assume legal guardianship of him.”

Mark shrugs. “Okay. Do you need me to, like, sign something?”

Heidi’s stomach is churning. 

Her chest aches. 

What the fuck. 

She knew this was coming, she knew this is what was going to happen, she was sure that it was going to be this easy but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, doesn’t mean it doesn’t break her heart that this man can give up on his kid so easily. 

“Yes,” she says curtly. She pulls the paperwork out of her purse and hands it over.

Mark doesn’t even read it, just flicks through until he finds a spot where he’s supposed to sign and just… signs. 

Signs his kid away to the custody of a stranger. 

He seems to notice that Heidi’s glaring at him. Scowls at her. “You want him, you can have him,” he says bluntly. “Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t want him in the first place.”

“He’s your son.”

Mark laughs darkly. “He was a mistake. He’s been nothing but trouble.”

Heidi blinks. 

Tries not to completely lose it on this asshole. 

“Is there anything of his still at your house?” Heidi asks, as politely as she can. 

Mark shrugs. “Told him to take everything. If he’s left anything, then too bad.” 

“I can’t believe this,” Heidi mutters under her breath, unable to stop herself. 

“You want to take care of my fuck-up kid, be my guest,” says Mark, glaring at her, his eyes dark. “But that’s on you. Don’t you go sending him back to me or any bullshit like that. I never wanted him. I took him in out of the goodness of my heart, and how does he repay me? He gets himself fucking arrested.”

“Because your girlfriend’s kid stole a car,” Heidi shoots back. 

“Yeah, and he’s behind bars where he belongs,” says Mark easily. “Evan’s with you, Ethan’s locked up and it’s just me and Elaine now. Way it should be.” He laughs, and it’s this horrible, ugly sound. “Judge me all you want, I don’t give a fuck. You’ve just done me a favor.” He hands the papers back to Heidi. “I gotta get back to work. Good luck with the kid.”

With that, he strides off, leaving Heidi standing there shaking with anger. 

She takes a deep breath then heads to her car. Pulls out of the gas station and drives for maybe a minute before she loses it. 

Heidi pulls to the side of the road and sobs against the steering wheel until she’s run out of tears to cry. 

* * *

Zoe notices that Evan seems down in study hall the second week back. He won’t really talk to her, spends the whole period working diligently on his homework, his shoulders hunched and eyes down. He just seems… sad or something. 

Zoe finds she doesn’t like that. 

On Thursday, she convinces Madison and Tommy to take her to this nearby bakery on their lunch hour and buys Evan a huge chocolate chip cookie. When study hall starts, she sets it on his desk wordlessly and Evan stares at her. Like she is some kind of goddess, beautiful and terrifying and completely incomprehensible. 

Zoe kind of likes being looked at that way. 

It’s different than how the other boys look at her, like she’s a prize they might win or like she’s an accomplishment. Evan just looks at her like she’s… special. 

Zoe likes that. 

He’s staring at the cookie with huge eyes. 

Zoe relents. “Looks like you had a rough week,” she says with a shrug. Like it doesn’t matter. Like she’s not aching inside for the small, sad smile Evan grants her when he breaks off a tiny piece of the cookie and eats it. When he breaks off another piece and hands it to her. 

Normally Zoe would refuse on principle because that cookie is full of sugar and butter and flour and fat. But something about the look that Evan’s giving her makes her hold her tongue. Accept the small piece of the cookie being offered. 

She eats it slowly so she won’t be tempted to say yes if he offers her more. Savors the chocolate on her tongue, the crunch of the biscuit between her teeth. Fuck, why’d she give up sweets again?

Evan looks at Zoe oddly just before the bell rings to signify the end of the period. He opens his mouth, like he might say something, but then closes it again. Says nothing. Offers nothing. Instead, he grants her the smallest, saddest smile. 

Then he heads to his next class. 

And Zoe heads to hers. 

But she thinks a lot that night about that moment, about sharing a cookie without talking, about how Evan looks at her like she matters even when at home it feels like she’s just. Extra. The Rest, like on Gilligan’s Island. 

But when Evan looks at her, she doesn’t feel surplus. She feels… 

Zoe doesn’t know. 

But she’s glad she bought that kid a cookie.

* * *

Evan doesn’t sleep well that week. No matter what he does, he can’t seem to shut his brain off. Instead, he reads textbooks and writes essays and does homework, throwing himself into schoolwork in the hopes that he’ll distract himself. 

The day before the hearing, he hides in the library during his lunch period and does as much work as he can. He wants to get as much into his brain as he can, learn as much as he can, make the most of this.

After tomorrow, he might not be coming back. 

He and Heidi have dinner at a restaurant with a parking lot that reminds Evan painfully of the one Ethan stole a car from and he wants to go back in time and kick himself, punch himself in the face for being so fucking stupid. 

He was so fucking stupid. 

Ethan had told Evan he’d buy him dinner if he helped him out with something. They hadn’t had any food in the house in nearly a week and he’d been hungry enough to agree, even though Ethan wouldn’t tell him what he wanted help with until after they’d eaten. 

Who the fuck helps someone steal a car because they bought them chili fries?

Not that he really did anything except… stand there. 

Stand there and watch. Then get into the car. 

Fuck, he’s so stupid. 

So fucking stupid. 

Ethan doesn’t even like him. Barely tolerates him. Only talks to him when he wants something. Has spent years fucking tormenting him, picking on him and making fun of him, kicking him out of their room when he brings girls home, stealing his shit and ripping up his library books because it amuses him. 

And now Evan’s probably going to juvie because of him. 

Because of Ethan, who broke three of his ribs when he was 15, ribs that never quite healed properly and still hurt when it rains. 

Fuck. 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. 

They’re driving back from the restaurant and Evan manages to find his voice. 

“Could we stay at the beach house tonight?” he asks, hating how his voice shakes. “Please?”

Heidi looks at him, something so fucking sad in her face. She nods. 

They head back to the main house to pack up their clothes for tomorrow, then head to the beach house. Heidi makes hot chocolate and the two of them sit on the porch and look out at the ocean as the sun sets. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Heidi tells Evan, and he wants to believe her. 

He just can’t see how. 

He doesn’t sleep that night. After a few hours of tossing and turning, Evan heads outside and sits on the beach, looking out at the water. 

He might never see this again. 

The chances are high that he’ll never see this again. Even if he doesn’t end up in juvie, it’s not like Heidi is going to let him stay permanently. There’s no reason for her to. She doesn’t owe him anything, after all. 

The only reason he’s here is because she’s his lawyer and if she’s going to win her case, it helps to know where her client is. 

Win or lose, tomorrow might be the last time he sees Heidi. 

He keeps trying to ask what’s going to happen to him next. Trying to prepare, trying to get his head around it, he just…

He can’t. 

He can’t ask, because if he asks, then she’ll tell him he’s going into the foster system again, he knows it. 

Hearing that might break his heart. 

It’ll be worse this time. So much worse. At least when he was 8 he was vaguely cute. Got a couple of halfway decent places. But sixteen? Not a chance. 

He’s in for two years of hell. 

Well, a year and eight months of hell. He’ll be seventeen next April. 

Who knows where Evan will be in April. 

He stays up all night and watches the sun rise. 

It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, the sun rising over the ocean, and he wants to cry at the realization that he’ll probably never see it again. 

Instead, he goes inside. Has a shower. 

Puts on the suit and the new shirt Heidi bought him and the fancy shoes that gave him blisters. 

Makes some coffee. Pours himself some cereal. 

Heidi’s up not long after. She thanks him for making coffee and the two of them sit on the porch and have breakfast. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Heidi says again. 

Evan wants to believe her. 

* * *

Heidi walks into the courtroom and tells herself she’s going to win. 

She is going to win. 

She has to. 

She has never cared about a case more. 

The opposing counsel is a middle-aged guy in a wrinkled suit who looks tired and disengaged and Heidi steels herself, because she’s not going to underestimate anyone, no matter how useless they look. 

She’s just going to be better. 

She focuses with everything she’s got on the case and lets herself get into the zone. 

Heidi Herzberg knows she’s good. 

She’s logical and organized and ruthless and smart. 

She’s done everything right. 

She keeps her cool, she argues her case and she carries herself with confidence. 

She can feel Evan’s eyes on her the whole time. Keeps his scared face in her mind the whole time. 

She won’t let him down. 

She refuses. 

She absolutely refuses. 

She squares her shoulders, looks the judge dead in the eye and gets to work. 

* * *

Evan doesn’t follow most of what’s happening in the hearing. None of it really registers, none of it seems to sink in, to make its way through the screaming in his head. 

He doesn’t want today to be the last time he ever sees Heidi. 

Doesn’t want today to be the last time he ever sees the ocean. 

He’s not ready he’s not ready he’s not ready. 

He knows he doesn’t deserve the company of this kind-hearted lawyer who seems to care about him, doesn’t deserve the smell of salt air, the sound of the ocean and the peace it brings him, but he wants it, he wants it so badly. 

He should have appreciated it more. 

Should have appreciated all of it more. 

The school library full of books that don’t have pages ripped out of them. The classes with teachers who actually know their subjects, who have knowledge to pass on. 

Connor’s hands on his shoulders, helping him breathe through a panic attack. 

Thinking of Connor is like a stab to his chest, because Connor hates him now. 

Evan thought that maybe they were friends, but Connor hates him. Hates that he punched Jared. Maybe he embarrassed him, maybe he made him look bad, he doesn’t know. 

He didn’t mean to. 

He just…

Jared shouldn’t have said what he said. 

Not about Connor. 

Not about anyone, but especially not Connor. 

Evan thinks back to the past few weeks and how Connor pretends he doesn’t exist. His chest tightens. 

Even though Connor hates him now, Evan thinks he’ll miss him when he goes. 

Wherever he’s going. 

No matter what happens, he’s going. 

It’s all a question of where. 

Heidi seems to have finished her argument. She sits down next to Evan and holds his hand. 

It doesn’t take long. 

It’s almost comically fast. 

The judge says words that Evan can’t quite understand, can’t quite make sink in, and Heidi squeezes his hand, then turns to him and smiles widely before pulling him into a big hug. 

“We did it,” she says in his ear. “We did it, Evan.”

Evan feels something inside him unclench. 

He still doesn’t know where he’s going, but at least it’s not juvie. 

Holy shit holy shit holy shit. 

_ What happens next? _ he wants to ask. 

He just can’t get the words out. 

Heidi takes him out to dinner to celebrate. They go to this Mexican place that has really good burritos, apparently, but Evan can barely concentrate, because he’s freaking out about what happens next. 

Heidi’s quiet, too, and Evan knows it’s bad news. 

Knows that she’s trying to figure out how to break it to him that she’s putting him back into foster care. That his time with her is up. 

Their food has just arrived when Evan finally cracks. 

“It’s okay,” he says. “You d-don’t have to feel bad, I j-just need to know when.”

Heidi looks at him, her expression puzzled. “What?”

“When I have to go,” says Evan, feeling his face burn. He looks down. “I know I have to go, that you c-can’t let me stay, that I… that my dad doesn’t want me so it’s foster care again-”

“Evan, stop.”

He looks at Heidi. He can’t figure out her expression. 

“I should have said something earlier,” she says, and she sounds… nervous, weirdly. “I shouldn’t have let you freak out about this and I’m so sorry. I was just trying to figure it all out.”

Evan looks at her. “I just want to know,” he says, his voice small. 

“I talked to child services,” she says. “And I asked them if you could keep staying with me.”

Evan thinks his heart might have stopped. 

What?

What the fuck?

What the fuck what the fuck?

“With you?” he echoes, feeling lost. 

“If that’s okay,” says Heidi, something hesitant in her voice. “If it’s okay with you, I want you to stay.” She looks him in the eye, and she still looks uncertain but her face is open and kind, and Evan realizes with a jolt that she thinks he might not  _ want  _ to stay.

Thinks he might not want to stay with her. 

“Really?” he asks, heart pounding too fast, his heart leaping like someone tied a helium balloon to it. “You really want me to stay?”

Heidi smiles. Her eyes shine as she speaks. “I really do. As long as it’s okay with you.”

“Y-yeah,” Evan manages to choke out. “That… that’s okay with me, yeah.”

Heidi smiles even bigger, this big relieved smile. “I’m so glad,” she says, and he believes her. “I’m really, really glad to hear that, Evan.” 

They both look at each other for a really long time, just… smiling like idiots. 

“Child Services will be checking in on us,” Heidi says after a while, like she’s suddenly remembering. “Because of what happened. Even though it’s just a misdemeanor not a felony, they’ll still be checking in to make sure that I’m a fit guardian.” She fixes him with a look. “So maybe try not to steal any more cars.”

“I can’t drive,” Evan blurts out.

Heidi blinks. 

Looks at him. 

Then bursts out laughing. “Oh my god, really?”

“Yeah,” Evan admits. “I never got to take Driver’s Ed.”

Heidi laughs even harder and Evan can’t help it, he joins in. 

He has to admit, it’s pretty fucking funny. 

A car thief who can’t drive. 

What the fuck. 

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck. 

What even is his life?

How is any of this even real?

Evan might be dreaming. He might be having a complete break from reality. 

He hopes it’s real, though. 

He really, really hopes it’s real. 

* * *

Evan’s not in school on Friday. 

Connor notices immediately. He doesn’t see Evan in the halls before classes. Doesn’t catch him rounding the corner in the Languages hallway between second and third period like he usually does. Doesn’t spot him at lunch. And in English class when their teacher does roll call, she skips Evan’s name entirely. 

Just skips it. 

Connor’s freaking out. He’s totally freaking out. 

Did Heidi throw him out? Did his court case happen? Is he back in jail? Is he okay what if he’s not okay? 

Connor can’t focus in English that day. They’re going over in-class essays they wrote earlier in the week and the teacher reads an example of a “well-articulated argument” and Connor’s embarrassed because the argument in question is his and one of the other juniors sneers “Quitter” at him over his shoulder toward the end of class and. 

Connor wishes Evan had seen that. 

He probably would have punched the kid, though, so. 

Connor’s anxious all through class, staring at Evan’s empty seat like he might be able to will Evan to rematerialize in his usual seat. 

He can’t. 

Connor chews his fingernails and cracks his knuckles and bites the inside of his cheek and feels his eye twitching as he worries and worries about what happened to Evan. Why he’s just suddenly absent when Connor knows Evan’s on academic probation and can’t really miss school. 

He’s back in juvie. 

Heidi’s kicked him out, sent him back to Chino and his family. He’s convinced. 

He needs to talk to Heidi. 

He’s formulating a plan in his head, rehearsing his “why Evan should be allowed to stay” argument, trying to be concise and clear and polite despite his anger. He’ll argue and he’ll win and she’ll have to take Evan back. Won’t she?

It’s not fair. It’s not fair that he might have to suffer because of the fuck ups of other people. It’s not fucking fair. 

But when Connor gets out of English, he loses his nerve. If Evan’s just out sick or something, he probably won’t want to see Connor. They haven’t spoken since the first day of school because Evan’s actually a genuinely awesome listener and follows directions. Connor tells him to stay the fuck away, and Evan listened. 

Connor wishes he hadn’t. Maybe things wouldn’t feel like shit right now. He would have a heads up. An explanation. 

Alana finds Connor in the hallway after classes end. She’s got a stack of freshly xeroxed papers in her arms and hands him one. There’s bold print on the paper he can see, and his heart drops at the word “suicide.” 

Fuck. Fucking fuck. 

“Did you know that September 10th is World Suicide Awareness Day?” Alana asks Connor. 

He shakes his head. “Bad timing,” he mutters. “Everyone’s so busy thinking about 9/11.”

“Exactly!” Alana says delightedly. “Nobody is paying attention when this country - this school even - is in the midst of a mental health crisis.”

“Okay?” Connor says. 

“I want to hold an assembly,” Alana goes on. “To bring to light some of this information. People deserve to be informed, to know what resources they have at school.”

Connor thinks about all of the mental health pamphlets he was given by his guidance counselor the first week of school. They’re still lurking, crumpled and torn, in the bottom of his messenger bag. He can feel the weight of them somehow now, impossibly heavy, and he worries for a moment he’s in a Tell-Tale Heart situation. Maybe Alana suspects. Maybe she knows. Everyone in the realm of Jared Kleinman seems to know maybe she knows maybe that’s why she’s coming to him maybe she can see the weight of the pamphlets causing his shoulder to drop maybe she knows maybe she knows. 

“I was hoping you might help me hang these flyers!” Alana goes on, unperturbed by the sagging of Connor’s shoulders, the obviousness on his face. “Since you were such a big help at the fashion show.”

Connor breathes. 

“I think you could make a great activist if you put some effort into it,” she presses. Her shiny bright smile droops. “And everyone else I asked told me they weren’t interested.” 

Her voice sounds so fucking sad. Connor wonders if she has any real friends. 

“Sure,” he agrees after a moment. He finishes putting the books he needs into his bag and then, pausing, throws his whole bag into the locker. “Let’s go hang some flyers.”

Alana brightens considerably. She gives Connor half of her stack of still warm copies, and they set off down the halls. They work in silence mostly, pinning the signs to bulletin boards and taping them to walls around the school. They reach the indoor cafeteria and divide up the room, Connor taking the east side while Alana takes the west. 

“I really think this will be impactful,” Alana says to Connor from the other side of the cafeteria. “People need this information, and this way they don’t even have to google to find it.”

Connor nods. 

He remembers googling something like this his freshman year. Well. Not for resources, technically, but those were the results he got most often. 

He gives Alana a ride home. She mumbled something about how she doesn’t understand how she hasn’t passed her driver’s test yet and Connor is genuinely shocked because Alana excels at everything. 

His parents are fighting at dinner. Something about the food Connor is pushing around his plate. “He says soy makes him sick, Cynthia. I’m worried -”

“You’ve never supported me in trying to make us all eat healthier! Animal products are poison, Larry!”

Zoe groans and rolls her eyes. “I’m going to Madison’s,” she announces suddenly. 

“Sit down and eat your food!” their mom snaps. 

“No! It tastes like garbage, and I already told you I have plans!” Zoe shouts. She shoves away from the table, her face pinched and angry. She’s up the stairs fast, slamming her bedroom door. 

Connor gets up too. He doesn’t say anything, not even when his mom snaps “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

He goes into his bedroom and shuts the door. 

Goes on his computer. Loads up MySpace and stares at M’s page for a while. He’s changed the song on his page. Now it’s some song called “Cassie.” Connor listens to it and looks up the lyrics and rolls his eyes because of course Miguel likes this song. He’s weirdly into Jesus and all that shit, even though he’s gay. He wore a crucifix around his neck all last year. Never took the damn thing off. Sometimes when M was on top of him, Connor would think about grasping the little cross and pulling it, yanking it so the chain broke, just to see what M would do. 

He doesn’t. 

No. 

Didn’t. He  _ didn’t  _ have any patience for Connor’s thoughts on religion or god or whatever. When he said to Miguel after Christmas that his mom had decided they were Buddhists, he’d laughed at Connor and told him that rich people were so stupid. 

Connor laughed along with him but mostly just obsessed over the idea that M thought he was stupid. Stupid like his mom. It didn’t seem like a fair generalization. Connor’s not stupid. Not like that at least. 

But what does Connor know about religion anyway? His family was tangentially Catholic. Connor and Zoe made their first communions and then the family gave up on the whole thing. Connor always wondered if maybe his mom wanted an excuse to throw them parties. 

Whatever. 

She got bored with that religion and moved on to newer, trendier ones. She was really into Kabbalah for a minute. He pointed out that Christmas that it was a little weird they were even  _ having  _ Christmas because he thought Kabbalah was a Jewish thing and his mom told him to be quiet and open his presents. 

Zoe goes out. His parents continue fighting. First downstairs, and then quieter in their bedroom. Connor can still hear them, still at it even as the hours get later and later. When it hits midnight they finally quiet down. Connor watches the clock and when it hits twelve-thirty and they’ve clearly gone to bed, he grabs his iPod and his cigarettes and escapes. Decides to take a walk. 

His bedroom is, like, objectively huge but Connor keeps feeling like the walls are closing in on him. He knows how lucky he is, he knows some people have real problems, but he hates being at the house right now. He feels claustrophobic. Too big for the space. Like Alice in Wonderland, like he’s growing and growing and can’t stop it until he’s towering over everything and destroying it all which each step he takes. Like Godzilla or something. 

He hates this feeling. He hates… being so Big. He just doesn’t fit. 

Like he’s already over six feet tall and he’s probably not done growing. He’s taller than both of his parents which doesn’t even make sense. He probably has some kind of freak gene mutation and he’ll just keep getting more huge. Part of him worries he’s never going to stop, like his limbs and torso will keep stretching skyward, like a monstrous sunflower or something. Until he genuinely fits nowhere. Too big for the planet. 

And it doesn’t matter what he does to try to make himself smaller. He’s still too damn big. 

He holds his arms around himself. He’s so fucking. Massive. He has the bones of a dinosaur. 

There’s this pocket of skin and fat around his stomach that wasn’t there at the start of the summer and Connor hates it he hates it. 

It’s not that he’s afraid to be fat or whatever. That’s dumb. He’s just too big. 

Like if he could lop off his legs or something he’d be happier. 

Connor laughs at himself. 

Like happier is a thing he should be thinking about. People have real problems. 

* * *

They stay at the main house that night. 

Heidi’s apologetic, saying she’s got work she needs to get done over the weekend and there’s no internet at the beach house. Evan immediately feels guilty and apologizes. 

It’s his fault she has to work this weekend. She’s probably been busy with his case. 

“Maybe we can head out to the beach house on Sunday?” she says, her voice hopeful, and Evan nods. 

“I’d like that a lot.”

They get gelato on the way home from the restaurant and stop by at the beach for a bit, though. Evan appreciates it. Appreciates that he gets to see the ocean again. 

He’ll get to see the ocean again after today, too. 

He still can’t really believe it. 

They sit on the beach and eat their gelato on the porch of the beach house. Heidi opens the doors and windows while they’re there, claiming that the place still needs airing out. That it’s still too musty after years of not being used. 

“Maybe once you actually learn how to drive, you could use David’s car sometimes,” says Heidi as they look out onto the ocean. “Come down here by yourself when you need it if I’m stuck at work.” She grins at Evan a little weakly. “We’ll see how things go, yeah?”

His brain nearly explodes at the thought, at the trust she’s showing him. 

David was a lawyer, a rich kid from Newport Beach. Chances are he wasn’t running around in a cheap car. 

“You’re gonna let the kid you defended for car theft drive your husband’s car?” he asks incredulously. 

Heidi looks at him, something open in her expression. “I’m going to let the kid I think deserves a chance drive my husband’s car.”

Something warm goes through him for a moment. It doesn’t last. 

“So how long will I be with you?” he asks quietly. 

Heidi’s eyes soften. “As long as you want,” she says. “As long as they’ll let me keep you.”

Evan still doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get it, it doesn’t make sense. 

Something occurs to him. “My dad said I might be able to come back,” he says feebly. “Once Elaine calmed down. Does he… does he know where I am?”

Heidi looks… devastated. 

Genuinely heartbroken. 

“I went to talk to him this week,” she says, her voice soft and careful. “Child Services will only let you stay with me if I become your legal guardian.” She takes a deep breath. “Your dad… he signed over guardianship.” 

Evan feels like someone’s punched him in the stomach. 

He knew his dad didn’t care, but to hear it put this bluntly…

Fuck. 

Fuck, he’s such a fuck up, his own dad doesn’t even want him, fuck fuck fuck. 

“He doesn’t know what he’s missing,” Heidi says fiercely. “He’s a stupid, small man who doesn’t realize how amazing you are. It’s his loss, okay?” 

Evan doesn’t know what to say. 

He wishes he could believe what she’s saying, but…

His dad must be so fucking happy about this. So fucking happy to finally be rid of him. 

He never wanted him in the first place. 

Fuck.  _ Fuck _ , that shouldn’t hurt the way it does. 

When they get back at the main house, Heidi hugs him then heads to her office to do some work. Evan tries to get some sleep. 

He’s exhausted. 

He lies awake for a really long time until he finally gives up. 

It’s nearly two in the morning and sleep isn’t coming, so he fishes around in his bag for the packet of cigarettes he keeps hidden in case of emergencies and quietly sneaks out of the house. He feels bad at first, after everything Heidi’s done for him, but he reasons that he’s not running away or anything. 

He’s just getting some air. 

It’s easier when they’re at the beach house. More peaceful. He sleeps better. And he doesn’t have to walk down the driveway to get some space. 

The ocean is just… right there. 

At least at the bottom of the driveway, he can still see the ocean. It’s far away and the crash of the waves is quieter than it is when he’s at the beach house, but it’s better than nothing. 

Better than Chino.

Anything’s better than Chino.

Evan lights a cigarette and thinks to himself that he’s probably not being fair to Chino. It’s not actually that bad a place. The whole town itself isn’t the problem. 

Evan’s the problem. 

But he’s going to try not to be. Going to try to keep his bullshit contained, keep it from spilling out all over this place’s fancy cars and plastic smiles. 

He smokes and looks at the water. Tries to organize his thoughts. 

Fuck, he’s tired. 

He’s so fucking tired. 

He closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, he hears a familiar voice. 

“Hey.”

Evan turns slowly to see Connor standing a small distance away. He wants to smile automatically, his face wants to betray him, but he manages to fight it down, because Connor isn’t his friend. 

He’s made that perfectly clear. 

“Hey,” Evan replies quietly. 

“You weren’t at school today,” Connor says after a moment, pulling his own packet of cigarettes out. He’s watching Evan carefully, cautiously, like he’s some kind of wild animal. 

He’s right to think that, Evan knows. 

There should be a warning sign on him. 

Something like _ ‘APPROACH WITH CAUTION.” _

_ ‘DO NOT FEED’. _

Whatever. 

“The hearing was today,” Evan says, despite knowing Connor doesn’t actually care, he’s just… making conversation or whatever. 

Connor stares at him for a moment, something almost scared in his expression. “What happened?” he asks, his voice a little frantic. 

Evan realizes with a sinking feeling that he’s about to disappoint this kid again. 

“Sorry,” he says, feeling heavy all over. “It looks like I’m sticking around. I know you don’t want that, I’ll stay out of your way-”

“What happened?” Connor says again, sounding genuinely concerned now. “With the hearing?”

“Heidi won,” Evan says dully, not looking at him. “I have to pay a fine and I’m on probation, but I’m not going to juvie, so… go team, I guess.”

It’s quiet for another moment. 

Evan can’t look at him. 

“You’re sticking around?” Connor asks after a while. “You’re staying? Really?”

“Heidi wants me to stay with her,” Evan mumbles. “I don’t know why, but… she asked if I would and I said yes.” He shrugs. “I don’t belong here, I know, but… I like it here. I like Heidi, I…” He takes a drag on his cigarette, breathes out smoke. Looks at his shoes. “This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, so I’m going to try not to fuck it up.”

Connor doesn’t reply. 

Evan finally looks at him. 

He can’t figure out what Connor’s thinking from his face, not really, but he looks… young. 

Impossibly young. 

“I’ll stay out of your way,” Evan says again. “I promise. I know you want me to stay the fuck away from you, I know you hate me and you have every right to hate me, but I d-don’t have anywhere else to  _ go  _ except back to foster care and Heidi is the only adult who has given a shit about me since I was s-seven so I’m staying. But I’ll stay out of your way, I promise. I know you hate me.”

Connor stares at him, his eyes big. “I don’t hate you,” he blurts out. 

Evan shrugs. Looks at his shoes. “You just want me to stay away,” he mumbles, feeling his shoulders sag. “That’s okay. I can do that.”

Evan can hear Connor take a step toward him. His voice is stronger the next time he speaks. “I don’t hate you, Evan. I like you. I like you so much it’s probably creepy.”

* * *

“I don’t hate you, Evan. I like you. I like you so much it’s probably creepy.” It bursts out of him stupidly. He’s tired. His tongue is loose and stupid and he’s just. Saying things. “Like we barely know each other but I really fucking like you.”

Evan looks at him, his face screwed up in confusion. “Y-you’re fucking with me.”

Connor shakes his head. “Honestly I’m not,” Connor says, pushing a hand through his hair. It’s greasy. He needs to wash it but he just hasn’t had the energy. “Like. You stood up to those pricks for my sister. You stood up to Kleinman for me. Nobody’s ever done that. Not for me.”

“But you said-”

Connor waves the hand holding his cigarette dismissively. “I’m always  _ saying  _ shit. Don’t listen to me. I…” his shoulders drop. “Dude I think you’re. Like. Awesome.”

Evan rolls his eyes. “You think I’m  _ awesome _ ?” he says incredulously. 

“God that sounds fucking… stupid when you say it like that.” Connor sighs. Chances a step closer to Evan. “I’m just stupid and like. I’m basically socially suicidal? I don’t. Kids around here hate me and the feeling is mutual.” 

Evan’s not smiling. He’s frowning deeply. “But you  _ said-” _

“Dude I know. I  _ know _ . I’m just a moron and I let my dad get into my head. I’m.” His throat closes for a moment almost. “I’m sorry, man. I’m an asshole. I like you.”

Evan’s looking at him and Connor feels mildly wigged out by the intensity of his gaze. Like he’s being analyzed. It reminds Connor about like. Therapy. Like he’s being monitored. Observed. “Your dad?” Evan says finally. 

Connor runs a hand through his gross hair again. “Yeah he. I’m. Sort of always in trouble and. He was all, ‘maybe you should leave this kid alone because he needs to stay out of trouble,’ and dude like. He’s  _ right.  _ I’m in trouble all the damn time. I got detention this week for mouthing off to Mrs. Carlson in my fucking math class because I just. Can’t shut up.”

Evan stares. Then, “What did you say to her?”

Connor feels his face heat up. “That trig ought to be banned under the Geneva Convention.” Connor rolls his eyes. “Like why did I say that? I was just pissed she told me I’d done some fucking triangle thing wrong. Like it  _ was  _ wrong. I don’t get triangles and she was trying to fucking help and I called her a bitch for it. I’m just, like…” he shrugs. He doesn’t know what he’s like. Socially stupid. He doesn’t get people, he doesn’t  _ fit.  _ It’s something he’s always kind of known. “Look, I’m kinda socially retarded.” Evan flinches. Connor feels worse, but presses on. “I’m sorry dude. It’s not that I don’t like you. I do. I think you’re cool as shit but.  _ I’m _ not. You don’t want to be known for hanging out with Quitter, trust me.” Connor sighs. “But I’m glad you’re gonna be sticking around. Really. Nobody’s ever managed to shut Kleinman up before.” 

* * *

“Nobody’s ever managed to shut Kleinman up before,” says Connor, and Evan can’t help but smile a little. 

“A punch in the face works wonders for shutting people up,” he says, and Connor blinks, then smiles at him. “Not that I should be punching people in the face anymore if I want Heidi to keep me around.” Connor looks like he’s going to say something but Evan gets there first. “Dealing with that asshole was worth the lecture,” he says firmly. “Also, it means that he’s leaving me the fuck alone now.” Something occurs to him. “Is he still giving you shit?”

Connor shakes his head. “Kinda just ignoring me,” he says, and he sounds almost relieved. “Trust me, it’s an improvement.” 

It looks like Connor’s going to say more, but he closes his mouth. Runs his hand through his hair. 

Blinks at Evan a few times, looking at him intently. Like Evan  _ is  _ in fact in a display case at a zoo with a caution sign taped over the glass. 

No, Evan realizes as Connor keeps looking at him. 

It’s not like that at all. 

“I met your dad last weekend,” Evan says without really meaning to. 

Connor looks surprised. “You did?”

Evan nods. “We were at the beach house. Me and Heidi. He surfs there sometimes.”

Connor nods back. Looks at his feet. “Hope he wasn’t a total dick to you.”

“He wasn’t,” Evan says, and he’s telling the truth. Mr. Murphy had been… nice, almost. Evan flinches as he remembers what had happened. “I, uh… I’m sorry. He kind of… I kind of spilled what Jared said on the first day. He seemed pretty pissed.”

Connor blinks. “At me?”

Evan shakes his head. “At Jared.” 

Connor’s eyes go big, then something in his expression shifts. “That explains a lot,” he says slowly. He shrugs. “My dad’s kinda trying this whole… TV dad thing at the moment? He took me to the batting cages on Saturday.”

Evan knows he shouldn’t admit that he has no idea what the fuck Connor’s talking about, knows he should just nod along but he doesn’t know what batting cages are. “What’s that?” he asks, like an idiot. 

Connor looks confused for a moment, then shrugs. “It’s, like, practicing for baseball? You go there and just… practice hitting a ball, I guess.” He smiles a little. “My dad likes baseball.”

“My dad likes beer,” Evan counters, hating how his voice sounds bitter. “And watching TV and fucking his girlfriend and pretending I don’t exist.”

To his horror, Evan can feel his eyes start to sting, and he looks at the ground, because there’s no way in hell he can cry in front of Connor, no fucking way, there’s no way Connor will want him around if he loses his shit right now, but he’s tired and he’s hurt and he’s completely overwhelmed and it’s too much, it’s all too fucking much, he can’t stand it, he wants to just scream and cry and lose it because his entire universe has shifted in just under three weeks and he hasn’t caught up yet. 

He’s always felt one step behind, like he hasn’t quite figured out how to be a human being, but this…

It’s like someone’s picked him up and dropped him into the ocean in the middle of the night, and it’s dark and turbulent and he can’t find his way to shore, no matter how hard he tries, and it’s taking everything he has to keep his head above water. 

“Hey,” says Connor, sounding a little alarmed. “Dude. You okay?”

Evan hunches his shoulders. Tries to make himself small. 

“Heidi’s gonna be my legal guardian,” he says quietly, needing to say the words out loud. “My dad signed the papers. Signed me away. He doesn’t want me.” Evan shrugs. Wipes his face. “Doesn’t matter, forget I said that, it’s not a big deal it’s totally not a big deal-”

“That’s a big fucking deal,” Connor interrupts, his voice almost harsh. “A huge fucking deal. Evan, I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Evan repeats stubbornly, because if he says it enough times then maybe he’ll make it true. 

* * *

“It’s a big deal, man,” Connor says, repeats, because he means it, he really fucking means it. “I’m so sorry. That. Sucks.” He nudges Evan with his shoulder and it feels wrong, it’s not enough, he wants it to be enough but he knows it isn’t. 

He knows it isn’t. 

Connor can’t do anything to fix it. 

Evan just looks so fucking sad. 

He just looks so crushed and sad and Connor hates it. 

He doesn’t know what he can even do or say. He’s paralyzed. 

For lack of a better idea, Connor lights another cigarette. Offers it to Evan. He takes it. Takes a drag. Passes it back. Connor takes a drag. Passes it back. 

They smoke in silence. 

And then Connor breaks the silence. “I know it’s not the same, but. I think my mom hates me?” He shrugs. “It’s not the same. I’m not saying it’s the same. It’s not. It’s not the same at all. It’s not even a real problem. But like. If that’s like… a tenth of what you’re feeling, then I know it’s shitty.” 

Evan blinks. “That’s a real problem.”

Connor shakes his head, taking the cigarette back. “No. It’s really not. My fucking bored rich mom doesn’t talk to me, boohoo. I don’t know why I even mentioned it, ignore me.”

Evan’s quiet. He takes the cigarette back. Connor watches as he inhales smoke, his cheeks hollowing, and for a second all he can think about is how young Evan looks. Too young to be smoking. Too young to be standing here saying his dad gave him up. 

“When did you start smoking?” Connor asks him. 

Evan shrugs. “I don’t even really, I. Only sometimes. It’s too expensive.” He gives Connor an almost smile. “Just y-you know. When stuff isn’t…”

Connor nods. He gets that completely. 

“I was thirteen,” Connor says. “I dunno why I even started. I guess I thought it looked cool or something stupid. I know, I know, I sound like an anti-smoking ad. You can tell me how stupid it is.”

“That’s… that’s so stupid.”

“I know,” Connor says, but now there’s both sort of smiling. Connor shakes his head. “I’m sorry about your dad, man. I really am.”

Evan’s smile fades. He nods. He looks so fucking young, almost like that photo of Zoe and Connor at DisneyLand young. 

“So…” Connor says, taking a drag on their shared cigarette. “You really stole a car?”

Evan rolls his eyes. “My dad’s girlfriend’s kid stole it.” He takes the cigarette back. “I was j-just there.”

Connor grins. “Maybe don’t tell people that part.”

Evan grins back, but only for a second. Then it fades. He looks uncomfortable. “Nobody else knows. Who I really am.” 

“Oh,” Connor says, surprised. 

“Well. I guess your d-dad does,” Evan concedes. He puts out their cigarette. He shrugs sort of listlessly. “But nobody at school.”

“Okay,” Connor says. He nods to himself. “I won’t tell anybody. Obviously. Nobody to tell anyway.”

Evan looks at him suspiciously. “Why…?”

Connor shrugs. “I got into some shit freshman year. Partied a lot. Had like. A bit of a habit. Not to be a D.A.R.E. officer, but don’t fucking do a bunch of drugs thinking it’s gonna win you friends. And anyway, then I fucked off to boarding school.” 

Evan looks like maybe he wants to ask, but he keeps his mouth closed. 

Connor frowns slightly. “Look. I’m really fucking sorry for being such a dickhead, okay?” 

Evan nods. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not,” Connor says. “And I’m sorry. Seriously.”

Evan looks at him, this unreadable expression on his face. 

God, his face. 

Connor really likes Evan’s face. His eyes in particular fascinate Connor. They’re so blue. So dark and deep. They remind him of the ocean at night, sort of fathomless but never still. And his mouth? He’s got a nice mouth. Connor reminds himself not to be creepy, not to stare at some other dude’s mouth like a freak, because this kid is super not gay. He’s not. Connor knows. He knows this kid isn’t like him. 

But damn he is gorgeous. Undeniably gorgeous. 

Connor wasn’t kidding when he said he liked Evan so much it was creepy. 

“I should get back inside,” Evan says then, looking at his feet then. “Before Heidi. Y’know. Ch-changes her mind about letting me stay.”

“She’s not gonna do that,” Connor says. 

Evan shrugs. “Not like it hasn’t happened before.”

Connor’s heart squeezes painfully. He kind of wants to hug Evan but that’s weird. He knows it’s weird. 

“Look. Heidi’s a good person, yeah?” Connor tells him. “She’s not gonna flake on you.”

“Yeah,” Evan says, shrugging. “We’ll see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "Crooked Teeth" by Death Cab for Cutie.


	11. Why Can You Read Me Like No One Else?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoe and Connor celebrate their birthdays.

When Heidi wakes up the next morning, Evan’s still asleep. Heidi’s relieved, to be perfectly honest. She knows he hasn’t been sleeping well. Can tell from the dark circles around his eyes. The way he carries himself. 

She can’t help it, even though she knows it’s a little creepy. She watches him sleep for a while. 

He looks young and vulnerable in his sleep. 

It just makes her even more determined to keep this kid safe. 

She heads into the kitchen. Rosa has gone grocery shopping, which Heidi appreciates. Heidi still kind of hates the fact that she has a housekeeper, because she’s more than capable of going grocery shopping herself, but she can’t bring herself to let Rosa go, because it wouldn’t be fair. 

Since Evan’s arrival, Heidi’s given Rosa a raise. Rosa had tried to refuse it but Heidi had insisted, because all of a sudden her job involves keeping a teenager fed. And Heidi’s pretty sure teenagers are supposed to be bottomless pits. 

She hasn’t seen Evan eat much, though. Not really. 

It’s like he’s… not used to eating. 

He’s too thin, Heidi decides, and resolves to do something about it. She picks up her keys, then heads out to a nearby bakery that, for some reason, actually does really nice challah bread. It’s been a while since she’s had challah, but it’s always been a comfort to her. Maybe it’s something she can share with Evan. 

She wonders if he’s ever had challah before. 

She ends up picking up bagels and cream cheese and lox as well, figuring she may as well go all out. When she gets back to the house, Evan’s in the kitchen, drinking coffee. 

He looks less tired, which Heidi appreciates. 

“Okay,” she says, taking her purchases out of the bag. “We’re going for comfort food this morning. Start the day right. How do you feel about lox?”

Evan blinks. Looks confused. 

Heidi nods. “Right, okay, we’ll start small. Let’s have some bread, yeah?”

Soon they’re eating thick slices of challah with honey, which has always been Heidi’s preferred way of eating it outside of shabbat. Evan seems to enjoy it, but he’s not really saying much. 

The kid is probably a little overwhelmed, Heidi reasons. She should cut him a break. 

After a while, Evan looks at her, this guarded expression on his face. 

“I talked to Connor last night.”

Heidi blinks. She’s not expecting that. 

“You did?”

Evan nods. Shrugs. “I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a walk? He couldn’t sleep either, so… we talked.” He looks straight at her. “He said that his dad told him he should stay away from me because I can’t afford to get into trouble.”

Heidi feels something sink in her stomach. “He did, huh.”

Evan bites his lip. Looks at her and blinks. Frowns. Like he’s trying to figure it out. 

“Did you tell Mr. Murphy to ask Connor to stay away from me?” he blurts out. 

Heidi’s stomach sinks further. She nods. “Yeah,” she says simply. “I did.” Evan just looks at her, so she tries to explain. “I didn’t want you to get hurt.” She sighs. “Connor… he partied a lot before he went to boarding school. Got himself into a lot of trouble. And he can get away with it because of who his parents are, but you don’t have that luxury.”

Evan just looks at her, his expression hard to read. 

“I appreciate how much you care,” he says slowly. “I really do. I don’t want t-to sound like I’m ungrateful.” He straightens his shoulders. “But you-you can’t do sh… stuff like that? It’s not… you’re not my mom.”

Heidi feels that like a punch to the face. 

But she’ll take it on the chin. 

“I’m sorry,” she says, keeping her voice even. “I know I’m not your mom, Evan. I shouldn’t have done that. I know… I know it hurt you and I am so, so sorry.” She bites her lip. “So you and Connor are okay now?”

Evan almost smiles. “I think so, yeah.” He looks at Heidi, eyes guarded and cautious. “I think you’re wrong about Connor,” he says after a moment. 

Heidi blinks. Raises her eyebrows. “Yeah?”

Evan nods. Shrugs. His cheeks go a little pink. “He doesn’t… I don’t think he’s really much of a partier anymore? He just… I think he’s just lonely.” He shrugs again. “The kids at school? They… Connor doesn’t fit in with them and I don’t either, so…” He looks at Heidi significantly. “I don’t think either of us are going to be doing much partying. You don’t have to worry.”

“I’m always gonna worry,” Heidi says gently. 

Evan blinks. Frowns a bit. His cheeks turn pink. He shrugs again.

“You don’t have to,” he says again. He looks at her, something older than his years in his expression. “But it’s… it’s nice that you do, I guess.”

* * *

Zoe’s birthday is the 23rd of September. She’s turning sixteen and throwing a pool party. 

It’s all been decided. And if all goes well, her parents will be at an event the whole night. They seem wary at first but Zoe reminds them that she’s not _Connor,_ and that seems to settle it. 

Her mom orders all of these fancy invites on expensive stationary and Zoe hands them out at school mostly. Her friends are excited. Sabrina talks about bringing her karaoke machine to the party, which Zoe thinks will be a hilarious joke. She can just imagine the dumbass boys she knows trying to belt out blink 182 or something dumb like that. 

Zoe hands out all but one of the invites at school. 

The Friday before the party, Zoe hand delivers one invite in particular to Evan. They have study hall together, but he’s been very quiet there lately. Hard at work. Not terribly talkative. Zoe gets it. Junior year is when shit gets real, or so she’s been told. AP classes and all that shit. She tries not to take it personally that he’s not really paying attention to Zoe. But he does always look up when she talks and the other day when she leaned over his desk, he was absolutely checking out her tits so it’s not like he’s lost interest in her totally. 

Zoe’s noticed that Evan’s been talking to Connor a lot lately. In the halls and once, she spotted, at the bottom of their driveways. She doesn’t know what to think about that. Evan probably pities Connor. That seems likely. Connor doesn’t have other friends, doesn’t do anything but go to school and come straight home and, on very rare occasions, ride his skateboard around their cul-du-sac. Maybe Evan pities him. 

“Maybe it’s like a Make-A-Wish thing?” Madison suggested on Friday at lunch when Evan appeared at the same lunch table Connor was scowling at. 

“Connor’s not dying,” Zoe says, rolling her eyes dismissively. 

At least she doesn’t think. Her parents would be the sort who would lie to her over Connor, like, having cancer or whatever just to “spare her” the emotional toll. No, Zoe decides quickly, the only thing terminal about her brother is the state of his social life. He’s always on the fucking phone. She’s heard him at all hours, leaving messages for someone he calls “M,” his voice sounding kind of frantic and hopeless and sad. 

If he wasn’t actively trying to ruin Zoe’s life, she might feel bad for him. 

That’s clearly why Evan keeps sitting with Connor at lunch. It’s pity. Evan feels bad for Connor and his various freak tendencies. 

How the two of them are cut from the same cloth continues to baffle and infuriate Zoe. 

Whatever. 

Zoe walks over to Heidi’s house on Friday night. She took care to look extra cute before she goes over, curling her hair and fixing her makeup and putting on her favorite short skirt that shows off her hip bones and a white spaghetti strap top. Zoe can’t help it. She likes the way Evan’s cheeks get all pink when he sees her like this. 

Zoe checks her reflection in the window and then rings the bell. 

Evan answers the door. He’s looking especially good today. Madison remarked that she thought he might be working out while they were at lunch today. He’s wearing this navy button down over a black t-shirt and some jeans that fit him especially well. He looks kind of surprised to see her. “Hi?” He says, sounding… confused. Unsure. Like he wasn’t expecting to see her at his door. 

He’s cute like this, Zoe decides. 

“Hi!” Zoe says brightly. “I wanted to give this to you in person.” She holds out her invitation. 

Evan takes it, giving her a perplexed look. He turns the envelope over in his hands, his brows knit together, his mouth set in a straight line. 

“My sweet sixteen is next weekend,” Zoe says, “and I’m having a pool party for my birthday. You should come. It’ll be fun.”

Evan stares at her, his mouth slightly agape.

“What? You’ve never been invited to a party before?” She says jokingly, but Evan’s face falls. “Shut up, you’re messing with me.”

“I…”

“You have to come,” Zoe presses on. “I’m turning sixteen. It’s a big deal. I want all of my friends there.”

Evan nods, his eyes huge, looking a little unsure. “Yeah I’ll. I’ll ask-“

Zoe frowns. “Come on. We are friends aren’t we?” 

Evan’s face falls. “Y-yeah. We are.” He gives Zoe a tentative smile, small but real and there. 

“Good,” Zoe says happily, smiling at him, using all of her teeth. “So you’ll be there?” 

Evan smiles gently. “Wouldn’t m-miss it.”

  
  


Zoe and Connor have the same birthday. It’s something she’s always known. When they were little it was kind of fun. They’d do these massive joint parties for all of the kids in their classes. It also used to be Zoe’s go-to fun fact about herself when she was younger (“My brother and I have the same birthday… one year apart!”). But since getting older, Zoe thinks it’s kinda garbage to have to share her birthday. Doesn’t she deserve her own day? 

Right now, she wishes so badly to have been born on literally any other day. It’s fucking embarrassing, sharing the day with him when they aren’t even twins. Unfair. Neither Zoe or Connor asked to be born on the same day one year apart. 

That’s something the two of them agree on at least. Because that’s what Connor says to their mom when she, for the fourth time, asks Connor if he’s _sure_ he doesn’t want to invite people to the pool party on Saturday. “We could make it a joint thing?”

“No thanks,” Connor says, not looking up from his plate. Their mom has backed off a little on all of the tofu and soybeans. Tonight she made vegan paella and it’s actually not bad. Maybe a little too mushy for a rice thing but definitely an improvement on all of the other shit she’s forced them to eat this summer. 

Zoe doesn’t know why this pisses her off so much. Obviously Connor’s gonna say no. He hates all of her friends and also has none of his own. So she doesn’t need to throw in, “Connor doesn’t have anybody to invite, mom, Jesus.” But she does because she’s pissed off. 

Connor wraps his arms around himself. He’s been doing that a lot. 

“Zoe,” their dad says, his voice bored and detached. 

Zoe wishes he would just yell at her. He was always a yeller but then Connor went off the deep end and he’s basically quit yelling altogether. Sometimes he yells at their mom, but never at them. 

Connor’s just looking at his food. He glances up at their mom, says quietly, “Can I go to my room?”

“No,” their mom replies. “I want to see you finish your dinner first.”

Connor sighs. “Please don’t do this.”

“You spent three periods at the nurse on Tuesday,” she replies, her voice icy. “All because you hadn’t eaten and got dizzy. You’re eating that.” 

Connor’s cheeks go pink. 

They don’t talk about it. 

Zoe hates the way they dance around all of Connor’s shit. He’s crazy. Doesn’t eat sometimes. Hurts himself; has hurt other people. Used to do a fuckton of drugs, though Zoe’s not confident he’s given all of that up because she found his pot stash in the pool house last week when she was looking for her aqua flip flops. 

They don’t ever talk about it. 

She hates that everything seems to be about it. 

Even this conversation which was supposed to be about her sweet sixteen party. Zoe glares at Connor over the pitcher of lemonade on the table. He looks away, back at his half full plate and then shoves a bite into his mouth, 

“So Sabrina’s going to bring her karaoke machine,” Zoe announces to the table. “I think that’ll be fun.” 

Connor gags when he tries to take another bite. Claps a hand over his mouth and rushes away from the table. Their dad mutters “damn it,” throws his napkin down and follows Connor toward the downstairs half bath. 

Her mom’s bottom lip is quivering. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” She says to Zoe quietly. She downs the rest of her glass of wine. “Nothing goes right.”

Zoe wants to scream. 

She gets up from the table without asking and heads out the door. She doesn’t really have a destination in mind, she just starts walking. Her feet carry her next door to Heidi’s, and Zoe strides to the front door and rings the bell. 

Heidi opens the door after a moment, still in her work clothes but barefoot. Her hair is pulled up into a sleek ponytail, and she smiles upon seeing Zoe. “Hello!” She greets her. “How are you, Zoe?”

“I’m good,” Zoe lies smoothly, wrapping a strand of hair around her finger idly. “Is Evan around? I wanted to see if he wanted to go for a walk with me.”

“Hang on, I’ll get him.” She turns away from the door, beckoning Zoe inside before scurrying up the steps and calling out for Evan. He appears in the foyer after a minute, his brow furrowed. 

“Zoe?” He says it like he’s never heard the name in his life. Like he can’t imagine her here. 

“Hey,” Zoe says with a smile. “Wanna come for a walk with me?”

Evan looks kind of surprised but nods. Heidi calls out to him not to be out too late since it’s a school night, and Evan’s cheeks go a little bit pink. They set off down the driveway with Zoe taking the lead. 

Evan looks nervous. Zoe wonders if she makes him nervous. Zoe wonders if she _likes_ that she makes him nervous. 

She’s pretty sure she does. 

Evan’s got his hands in his pockets. He’s watching her as they walk. Zoe doesn’t look back. She keeps looking directly ahead as she says, “Do you ever feel like you could be standing in a crowd of people, screaming at the top of your lungs, and nobody would notice or care?”

Evan lets out this kind of choked laugh. “Y-yeah. All the- all the time.”

Zoe sighs. Kicks at a little pebble in their path. She turns to look Evan in the face now. “Why are you hanging out with my brother?” 

Evan’s eyebrows knit together. “We’re friends.”

Zoe’s not happy with that answer. “But _why?_ Like have you met him? He’s kind of a loser.”

Evan’s frowning now. “Well then I-I guess I’m a l-loser too.”

Zoe notices his stutter gets worse when he’s unhappy. His cheeks are tinged pink. He’s stopped walking. Zoe stops too, her heart galloping in her chest. “Everything’s always about him,” She confesses, feeling stupid. “I can’t even, like, have a single conversation with my parents about my birthday party without them deciding he should get to invite people too.” 

Evan looks confused. “Why?”

Zoe pushes a hand through her hair. “We have the same birthday, a year apart.” She rolls her eyes. “It’s, like, the dumbest thing.”

“That’s kinda interesting,” Evan says. 

“Yeah, it was cute when we were like five and six,” Zoe says bitterly. “Everything is about him. I can’t even have my own birthday.” 

Evan nods. “That sounds really h-hard.” 

“Yeah,” Zoe says. She straightens out her shoulders. “Do you have siblings?”

Evan shakes his head. “No.”

Zoe nods. Looks at him, her head tilted. “How long are your parents in Europe for?”

Evan opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again, shrugging, but it looks tense, almost robotic. “I dunno,” he mumbles. “Could be a while.” 

Zoe nods. “Do you miss them?”

Evan’s eyes flash with something that Zoe doesn’t really understand. “My mom, yeah. Not my dad.”

Zoe used to feel that way. Preferring one parent over the other. She was always her dad’s princess. He’d let her get away with murder. 

He’d probably still do that, only now it’s like he doesn’t even care. All he does is throw money at her. Ask her weird, stunted questions about why she doesn’t play guitar anymore. 

Because it would fuck up her nails, obviously. 

Plus like. She’s not one of those weird girls who plays in a band or whatever. That whole Avril Lavigne thing isn’t actually that cute. Even if she has cool hair. 

Zoe’s blue streaks are fading a little now. She should get them redone. 

She and Evan circle through the neighborhood behind the community gate. Zoe points out the houses of people from school, fills Evan in on the history of the neighborhood, gives him little tidbits of her own history. Where she wiped out on her bike and knocked out her front tooth when she was little. The house that stood now on this area that used to be a vacant lot where she and Connor used to pretend were “woods,” even though there were only a handful of shrubs and trees. 

The house where Zoe had her first kiss. 

Evan’s face goes pink. 

“Where was yours?” Zoe asks. 

Evan’s face is definitely pink now. He shoves his hands into his pockets further, looking away. “It’s… not polite to kiss and tell.”

Zoe laughs, wacking his arm gently. “Oh come on! Tell me! I told!” She giggles as she says it. 

Evan shakes his head. “No.” He’s grinning at her. 

“Was it really bad or something?” Zoe presses, still teasing. 

“Not telling you,” He says, smiling bigger now. 

“You’re such a jerk!” Zoe laughs, rolling her eyes. “I hate you.” She bursts out laughing, pushing his shoulder as hard as she can manage, but Evan’s a pretty solid person. He doesn’t even budge, whereas Zoe nearly toppled herself over with all of the force she used to try and shove him. 

Evan catches her before she actually manages to faceplant on the manicured lawn of the Salpeters, his arms encircling her waist tightly, pushing up her shirt as he helps to right Zoe. Zoe thinks he notices that his forearm is pressed against her bare stomach the moment she is upright again, and his face flushes all pink.“S-sorry,” He says quietly. 

“You gotta quit being so sorry,” Zoe says back, still standing in his space, inches from her face. Zoe stands up on her toes a little, so they’re eye to eye. 

She hears Evan gulp. 

She likes that she makes him nervous. She likes that she can make him pay attention without much effort. 

Zoe leans in ever so slightly and Evan’s eyes go impossibly big, and Zoe just stands there for a moment and lets herself enjoy the way he’s holding onto her hips still. Enjoy the way she can practically hear his heart pounding. 

Zoe reaches out and plucks an eyelash off of Evan’s cheek. “Here,” She says, smiling at him. “Make a wish.” 

Evan blinks in surprise. But then, just for a second, he closes his eyes. Then blows the eyelash away. 

Zoe wonders what he’s wishing for. She doesn’t ask. 

Evan walks her back home. She feels better, lighter after. When they get to her door, Evan says, softly, “If you ever feel like screaming…”

And she nods. Smiles at him. 

“You’re coming on Saturday, right?”

Evan nods. “Of course.”

* * *

Life in Newport Beach is… 

Different to what Evan expected. 

When he first got here, it was a crazy whirlwind, and honestly? He’d had doubts about his ability to stay out of trouble. 

But he’s determined to get his shit together and focus on school and just…

Be who he’s supposed to be here. 

Be who everyone seems to think he is. 

He feels out of place in the clothes Heidi and Zoe picked out for him. Feels out of place in jeans and button-downs, feels like some kind of a preppy asshole, feels like someone he isn’t, but…

It helps, a little. Having a costume. 

Clothes maketh the man, and so on. 

Zoe seems to like the clothes. She occasionally makes comments about how a shirt brings out his eyes or how jeans fit him well and it’s… a little overwhelming, sure, but it’s nice.

She’s nice. 

She talks to him in study hall and invites him to her birthday party and has absolutely caught him looking down her top and hasn’t slapped him for it. 

Zoe is really, really pretty. And he’s pretty sure she’s flirting with him. 

It would be… nice, to be the guy that Zoe thinks he is. Heidi’s shy, quiet nephew from Seattle, who’s never stolen a car, never had to sleep in the public library because his dad is so drunk he’ll kick his ass if he goes home, never tried to survive for three weeks on a single jar of peanut butter because there’s no food in the house. 

The whole having three meals a day is a weird concept.

It seems to be doing something, though, because he notices that he’s filling out. Becoming less… weedy and pathetic than he was. 

Evan has lunch with Connor every day at school and he’s noticed that Connor… doesn’t really eat. He’ll have a piece of fruit, maybe sometimes a sandwich, but he eats slowly and gets this expression on his face like it’s physically hurting him to eat. 

Evan wants to ask if he’s okay, but he doesn’t know how. It’s still fragile, this thing with Connor, and he doesn’t want to ruin it. 

Really, really, really doesn’t want to ruin it.

He sits at the picnic table outside that’s become his and Connor’s table. Connor’s got his head in a book, listening to music on his iPod, and Evan’s working on homework while he finishes his sandwich but he’s only half there, really. 

He can’t stop thinking about that walk with Zoe. What she said. 

_“Do you ever feel like you could be standing in a crowd of people, screaming at the top of your lungs, and nobody would notice or care?”_

That’s how he felt all the time back in Chino. 

Like nobody would notice or care if anything happened to him. 

Probably because it was true. No one cared about him at all. 

His own father signed him away. 

Like it was nothing. Like he was nothing. 

It kills Evan, a little bit, to know that Zoe feels that way. But at the same time, it just doesn’t feel real, doesn’t seem like something that’s even remotely possible, because Zoe’s beautiful and popular and grew up in a huge house a stone’s throw from the beach.

He frowns to himself a little at the thought. He’s being…

Something. Prejudiced or whatever. 

Zoe walks around with a group of other beautiful popular girls and laughs and smiles and flips her hair and talks about fashion and music and boys and parties and looks like she doesn’t have a care in the world, but Evan doesn’t think that’s true. 

Maybe she’s just… good at pretending things are okay. 

Good at pretending, in a way that Connor isn’t. 

Connor doesn’t pretend to be anything he’s not, Evan thinks. 

Connor’s the most real person he’s ever known. He’s smart and he’s funny and he’s kind, kinder than anyone realizes, and he’s always just… 

He’ll say something that bothers him, and there’ll be this flash of pain on his face, then he’ll just shrug and tell Evan that it doesn’t matter, because some people have real problems. Which is the saddest fucking thing Evan has ever heard. 

Problems are problems. 

He thinks about the walk with Zoe a lot more than he should. 

Thinks about her hair and her skin and her lips and her eyes. 

And her boobs. 

He’s a sixteen year old boy. He thinks about Zoe Murphy’s boobs a _lot._

Evan tries not to think about them around Connor, though, because that’s his sister, and even though they’re not best friends, they don’t even seem to like each other that much, Evan gets the impression that if Connor knew how much he thought about Zoe’s boobs, he’d punch him in the face. 

They look so different from the outside, Connor and Zoe. 

Connor, dressed in black, pale and thin, compared to Zoe’s sun kissed skin and blonde hair and soft curves. 

But Evan thinks that maybe, they’re not as different as they think they are. 

_“Do you ever feel like you could be standing in a crowd of people, screaming at the top of your lungs, and nobody would notice or care?”_

Evan thinks that’s something Connor knows, too. 

Thinks that maybe if Zoe asked Connor that question, things between them might… shift. 

Might get better. 

Connor looks at him and furrows his brow. Takes a headphone out of his ear. “You okay?”

Evan tries to smile at him. “I’m fine,” he assures him. “Just thinking.”

Connor nods. Keeps looking at him, his face softening a little. “Looks like a deep thought, man.”

Evan laughs a little at that. “It might be,” he confesses. “But I don’t know for sure.”

* * *

Connor isn’t used to eating lunch with someone. Or eating lunch at all. At least, not here. Lunch was more of a thing at Hanover, and he usually got to eat with Miguel, but at Harbor he hadn’t eaten lunch with anyone since winter of his freshman year. 

Until now. 

Evan sits with him at a picnic table outside pretty much every day. Has for the past couple of weeks. Mostly they don’t talk a lot. Evan doesn’t say much, not really. He’s quiet and a lot of the time they pass the time just reading side by side. 

Connor normally listens to music with one headphone in while he reads or works on homework or whatever. This fact goes so long without commentary from Evan that Connor is genuinely surprised when the Thursday before his and Zoe’s birthday, Evan pokes Connor’s shoulder. 

Connor pulls the single earbud out. “Huh?” he says. 

“What are you listening to?” Evan asks softly. 

Connor shrugs. “Uh. Just a playlist I made. Death Cab, AFI, Dashboard Confessional, Panic! at the Disco, The Academy Is…” 

There’s no recognition in Evan’s eyes. His cheeks get a little bit pink. He looks up through his lashes at Connor. “Are those b-bands?”

Connor nods. “Yeah, I kinda… yeah.” 

Evan nods. 

“What kind of music do you -”

“I don’t,” Evan says quickly. “I just mean. I, uh, I dunno. Whatever’s on. I’m not picky?”

Connor nods. 

Considers. 

Then he puts his one earbud back in. 

Holds the other earbud out to Evan. He takes it cautiously. Connor runs his finger over the wheel of his iPod, trying to decide what they should listen to. 

He puts on the newest Death Cab for Cutie album. 

As the music starts, Evan turns his head slightly to look at Connor, smiling this small smile. Then he returns his attention to the book. But Connor can’t help but notice he’s tapping his finger along with the rhythm of the songs, that Evan’s smiling this soft smile. 

Fuck he’s so beautiful. 

It sort of stops Connor’s breath for a moment. 

After school, sometimes Connor gives Evan a ride home. Not every day; Evan stays after for tutoring a few days a week though Connor doesn’t think he actually needs it. Evan’s the smartest person Connor’s ever met. They were talking a couple of weeks back about some English assignment that Connor was struggling with on thesis construction and Evan just, like, was able to explain it to Connor in ten minutes when his teacher had failed to make it make sense to Connor in a week of classes. And English was Connor’s best subject. 

But Evan’s really worried about his GPA falling below a 3.5 and he’s not allowed to participate in extracurriculars, so tutoring is all he stays after for. 

On those days, Connor usually ends up going home and sneaking out to the pool house to avoid his mom and Zoe until his dad gets home and can run interference. Normally he reads but sometimes he smokes up a little, since it makes it a little bit easier to choke down and wait for his dad. 

Which is insane. 

Last year, before Hanover, Connor and his dad fought so much that the neighbors across the street once called the police on them to file a noise complaint. They couldn’t stand each other. 

But now his dad was all about his whole TV dad schtick and Connor’s actually pretty appreciative because his mom has been something of a nightmare lately. 

Like Connor genuinely can’t eat in front of her. She watches him like a hawk, like she’s disgusted by the way he just keeps expanding before her eyes, and it’s gotten so bad that Connor’s found himself getting sick in the middle of meals lately. 

His dad put his foot down after Tuesday, which is why today Connor drops Evan at home but doesn’t agree when Evan invites him to maybe come inside and go over Trig problems together. 

“Can’t,” Connor says, frowning slightly.

“What’s up?” 

He bites his lip. He knows how fucking lame what he’s about to say is. “My parents make me, like, do therapy every couple of weeks,” he mumbles, not looking Evan in the face. “It’s super lame.”

Evan blinks. “Oh.”

“I know, it’s like… So pathetic right?” Connor says, shrugging, feeling his cheeks burn. The only other person he ever told about going to therapy was M, and he had gone off on a rant about how individual care was all well and good but it was reserved for upper class white people and that the only real way to address mental health would be to overthrow the entire class structure. And he wasn’t fucking wrong, but Connor’s parents were insistent about him talking to someone so Connor didn’t go full on crazy again.

Evan doesn’t look like he’s about to propose a socialist revolt. He just looks at Connor, his head tilted a little, his deep blue eyes so focused on Connor that Connor feels himself nearly blushing. 

“Does it help?” Evan asks. He sounds genuine, not like he’s fucking with Connor. 

Connor shrugs. “I mean. I dunno. Sometimes it makes me feel less fucked up? But sometimes just going makes me feel like, just, a huge freak.”

Evan nods. He reaches out and claps Connor on the shoulder unexpectedly and says, “Hope it goes well.”

* * *

Heidi and Evan spent Friday night at the beach house and it’s great, as always. Heidi pulls out a barbecue from some kind of closet and Evan carries it out to the porch so they can cook outside. The barbecue looks like it’s never been used. 

When Evan asks, Heidi confirms that it hasn’t. 

“We’re not great at remembering to cook,” she says with a laugh, then her face twists and it looks like she’s about to correct herself, like she’s remembering that she’s not part of a ‘we’ anymore, not since her husband passed away. 

Evan really doesn’t want to make her feel bad, so when she goes to speak, he just dives in. 

“Well, I’m not exactly a pro, but I know how to grill things,” Evan assures her. “The guy who used to live in the downstairs apartment under Mark and Elaine’s place had a barbecue. It was… kinda garbage and never heated evenly, but he cooked outside a lot? Like, just out the back. And like, I’d be hanging around outside because Mark and Elaine were… you know.” He feels his cheeks burn, but presses on. “Anyway, I guess he felt sorry for me, so. He’d invite me to eat with him. Showed me how to grill stuff.”

Heidi looks even sadder at that, but fixes a smile on her face and tells Evan that’s he’s in charge of dinner. 

Which is honestly fair enough, really. Fuck knows she’s taken care of him enough in the last few weeks. Least he can do is grill some damn chicken. 

Heidi makes a salad and Evan grills chicken and tries to remember what Carlos told him about grilling. The thing he remembers the most clearly is that you have to let the meat sit for ten minutes before you eat it, so he says this to Heidi and she smiles at him and says they should absolutely do that. “It’s not like we’re in a hurry,” she reasons, and offers him a cherry tomato. 

He takes it and eats it whole. It’s fresh and delicious and sweet. 

He’s still not used to this whole eating vegetables thing. 

Though technically, a tomato is a fruit. 

When they sit down to eat, the chicken turns out actually pretty good. Heidi seems legitimately impressed and tells Evan he’s on barbecue duty from now on. “We don’t have a barbecue at the main house,” she comments as they eat. “Maybe I should get one.”

Evan shrugs. “Don’t know if you need one there,” he says, trying to be diplomatic, because he’s still getting used to the fact that Heidi can just buy whatever the hell she feels like. “And, I don’t know, maybe it’s nice that we just grill here?”

Heidi smiles at him. It’s this wide, bright smile that shows her teeth and makes him think about his mom. 

They’re not dissimilar in appearance, Heidi and his mom, though his memories of his mom are kind of… fuzzy. Even though she was only a teenager when she had Evan, she’d always seemed… young and old at the same time. 

Evan remembers thinking once when he was little that being so sad all the time must make you really tired. 

Fuck, he’d had no idea. 

No fucking idea. 

Once they’re finished with dinner, Heidi suggests they go into the water for a bit. Evan immediately feels his heart start to race, beating far too fast. Far too fast. 

He can’t swim. 

He’s lived his entire life in California and he can’t swim. 

It’s pathetic, absolutely, but he never had the chance to learn. The community pool near where he lived with his mom was always closed and they only ever went to the beach that one time before she died. 

One of his foster homes tried to take him swimming when he was about nine. He remembers, very vividly, being pushed into the deep end by the foster dad, who didn’t believe that a kid who grew up in California couldn’t swim. 

He remembers how it felt to thrash and scream and fight, his head disappearing under the surface, his mouth filling with water, and everyone just watching and laughing and doing nothing. 

A bored teenage lifeguard ended up pulling him out of the pool. Evan remembers it being so quick, like it had taken no effort on this guy’s part at all, and wondering why the fuck it had taken so long. 

It must have looked funny, he guesses. This nine year old who can’t swim. 

Looking back, that’s so fucking fucked up, because if he met a nine-year-old who said they couldn’t swim he sure as fuck wouldn’t throw them in the water or laugh as they drowned, fucking hell. 

Heidi looks at him, her expression concerned. “Everything okay?” 

Evan shrugs. Looks at his shoes. “I don’t… I don’t swim?” he tries to explain. “So… yeah.”

“I thought maybe we could just get our feet wet,” says Heidi after a moment. “Roll up our pants and just go up to our ankles.” Evan looks at her, and she offers a smile. “It can be kind of nice?”

Evan’s heart is still racing far too fast, but he thinks he can handle that.

The beach is different to a pool. He can handle it. 

And really, he needs to get his shit together, because he’s going to Zoe’s party tomorrow night and it’s a fucking pool party. 

Not that he’s going anywhere near the water. 

He’ll just… drink some soda and watch from the sidelines and try not to think about the fact that Zoe Murphy is going to be in a bathing suit when he’s spent so much fucking time trying not to stare at her boobs like a total pervert. 

He and Heidi take off their shoes. Evan rolls up his jeans and the two of them walk toward the water. Evan kind of likes the feeling of the sand between his toes, and it’s even nicer once he gets near the water’s edge. 

He likes how it’s gradual, this whole idea of walking into the water. How he doesn’t have to jump into a deep end, he can just slowly go at his own pace. 

Considering how much of his life has been the fucking deep end recently, it’s nice to have something he can actually control. 

They don’t go far. Only up to mid-calf, really. Heidi seems content to just stand and look out to the horizon, watching as the sun begins to set, and Evan is, too. 

“I don’t appreciate this enough,” Heidi says quietly, almost reverently. “Being able to do this.” She turns to Evan then with this big smile. “Thanks for reintroducing me to this place. It’s… I’d forgotten how nice it is out here.”

Evan doesn’t think he’s done anything. Not really. 

But he smiles tentatively, and together, the two of them watch the sun go down.

* * *

Zoe manages to somehow convince her parents that they really don’t need to stick around to supervise her party. She’s not exactly sure what it was that did it. Her insistence that they knew everyone who was coming seemed to work on her mom, who did begrudgingly admit that she knew everyone and their parents well enough. Zoe’s puppy dog eyes and pouting seemed to have swayed her dad. 

They get up on the morning of Zoe’s sixteenth and Connor’s seventeenth birthday to find their dad in the kitchen. An extremely rare sight. 

“Is mom okay?” Zoe asks, panicked, because it’s never Larry in the kitchen, it's always her mom or Blanca. 

“I’m fine,” her mom says from behind her. She looks tired and she’s clutching a cup of coffee like her life depends on it. “I just thought since your father has been oh so interested in what we’re eating lately that perhaps he should be in charge of breakfast today.” Her tone is icy as she says it. 

In the kitchen, Zoe sees Larry aggressively cracking an egg. He doesn’t say anything. 

Zoe’s not sure what the weirdest part of all of this is. Her dad cooking, the presence of an egg in the house after months with no animal products, or the fact that her mom is awake before ten o’clock on a Saturday morning. 

Connor comes into the dining room maybe ten minutes later in sweatpants that hang off of him and an oversized shirt for some band. He looks confused at the scene happening in the kitchen and looks over at Zoe. She shrugs at him and Connor slides into a seat at the breakfast bar, eyes big. 

He looks like shit, Zoe thinks. 

He never used to be this skinny. Or this pale. They live a couple miles from the beach for god’s sake, he could afford to get a little bit of sun. 

Their dad makes French Toast for breakfast. There’s even maple syrup, the real kind not the fake stuff, and Zoe is normally pretty diligent about her calorie intake but it’s her birthday and she wants to eat some fucking breakfast. 

Especially with all the partying she’s going to be doing tonight. Normally she saves her calories but Sabrina’s coming over to make Jell-O shots later and Zoe knows she’s gonna be blasted tonight. 

Connor eats his breakfast slowly, but he does finish. Zoe notices that both of her parents seem to be relaxing a little once they see that. They were arguing the other day about upping Connor’s therapy while Connor sat there and scattered flakes of black nail polish all over the dining room table. 

After breakfast, their parents bring them into the living room where there are two tall stacks of gifts wrapped in brightly colored paper. Zoe squeals and heads for her pile immediately, excited to see what she got. 

Connor hunches his shoulders and seems to wait for instructions. 

After some encouragement from their parents, Zoe and Connor dive into their piles. Zoe’s over the moon. She got a bunch of adorable new clothes. A brand new coach bag. Some new diamond earrings. 

But no car keys. 

Zoe can’t deny it. She’s kind of pissed. Her parents bought Connor a car. He’s always in trouble but he gets a fucking car. 

“Thank you,” Zoe says, her voice choked and forced and a little bit angry. 

Their dad seems to pick up on it right away. “We’ve scheduled your driver’s test for next week,” he says placatingly. “Once you have your license, we’ll talk.”

Connor isn’t saying much. Instead he’s clutching an envelope in his hands, his eyes huge and wild and Zoe suddenly realizes he might be about to fucking cry which. 

Ew. No. No matter what, Zoe doesn’t need to see her brother crying over a gift right now. 

But curiosity gets the better of her. “What is it?” she demands. 

“Concert tickets,” Connor says, almost reverently. “I didn’t… I didn’t think you’d… Thank you.” He frowns slightly. “There’s. Uh. There’s two tickets.”

“So you can bring a friend,” their mom offers up brightly. Cluelessly. 

Connor doesn’t really have friends to go to his weird screamo slit-your-wrists concerts with, because Connor doesn’t have friends at all. The only person he talks to at school seems to be Evan and Zoe knows Evan wouldn’t be caught dead at one of Connor’s shows. 

By six o’clock that Saturday, her parents are loaded into the car for an overnight trip just outside of town at some fancy spa or whatever. Her dad doesn’t look, like, thrilled, but he’s not loudly complaining about it. 

There is one wrinkle in Zoe’s brilliant plan though: Connor. 

He is still there. 

He’s standing with his arms wrapped around himself in the driveway, having helped to carry their mom’s bags outside to the car. 

“You’re sure you don’t want to come with us?” their dad asks Connor. “You shouldn’t be hanging out in your room by yourself on your birthday.” 

Connor shakes his head. “I’m good. Thanks.”

Their parents hug them goodbye. Wish both Zoe and Connor a happy birthday. Their dad reminds them both three times to call if there is anything they need. They pull out of the driveway and take off down the road toward the interstate. 

Zoe turns to Connor. “I will give you $100 if you just stay in your room tonight.” 

Connor rolls his eyes. “What do I need $100 for? I just got cash as a gift.” His cocky grin fades. “But I’ll keep out of your way. Just don’t be stupid okay?” 

Zoe scoffs. “Okay pot,” she says rolling her eyes. “Kettle. Whatever.” 

Sabrina and Madison come over maybe twenty minutes after her parents fuck off. They take over the kitchen, making Jell-O shots and decorating the place with streamers and stuff. Sabrina brought over a bunch of stuff from her cousin’s bachelorette party that has like. Cartoon dicks all over it. 

“You’re a woman now, Murph!” Madison giggles taping some of the decorations up. “When you gonna get somebody to pop that cherry?”

Zoe’s cheeks flush. “When I find someone to fucking _do_ it.”

“Thought you were trying to get with the new guy,” Sabrina says, her cheeks rosy. “Heidi Herzberg’s nephew. You’re always talking about him?”

Zoe shrugs. “I dunno. Maybe. I think he’s like. Nice. Like he wouldn’t be a dick about it.”

“He isn’t nice,” Sabrina says. “He punched Jared on the first day of school! He’s a bad boy.” 

“He’s really not,” Zoe protests. “Have you ever actually talked to him? He’s… sweet.” 

“You definitely want a nice guy to cash in your v-card,” Madison says wisely. “And then a bad boy after that so you actually like it.” She’s laughing like she’s so worldly and brilliant but Zoe knows she’s only ever had sex with Noah Banks and that it was totally only once. 

Naturally Connor’s lurking near the door to the kitchen as this conversation unfolds. He looks caught when Madison’s eyes slide over and take him in. “Ew, Quitter! Are you eavesdropping?”

“No,” Connor mutters. “Just wanted to…” He holds a bottle of water up. “Whatever.” 

Zoe turns to Madison once Connor’s disappeared back upstairs. “Don’t call him that,” Zoe says harshly. 

“Oh whatever Murph, it’s not even -”

“Look, I said don’t call him that,” Zoe says, feeling her cheeks flushing.

“It’s really fucked up,” Sabrina adds, coming to Zoe’s defense. “The reason people call him that is so messed up.”

It’s not _that_ messed up, Zoe thinks. He quit school. 

Madison rolls her eyes. “So sensitive,” she says. “Jesus. Lighten up.”

* * *

Cool so Connor is going to puke. Pretty sure. 

His parents are gone, his sister is making jello shots in the kitchen and hanging dicks everywhere, M has not bothered to call or text or MySpace message, and he just overheard a conversation about how Zoe wants Evan to take her virginity. 

So. He’s definitely going to puke. He’s just kind of waiting in the bathroom for it to happen. 

Happy fucking birthday to him. 

Connor hates his birthday, he thinks as he tries to breathe through his nose and not throw up. He hasn’t liked it in years. 

His dad got him concert tickets. 

Nothing Rhymes with Circus Tour, in December. 

The fact that his parents remember what bands he’s into… something about that sits strangely with Connor. 

That might be a contributing factor in his certainty that he’s going to throw up. 

He’s been doing it again. 

Counting up what he’s eaten, skipping meals, throwing up when he ends up eating. He knows, like, he knows it’s bad. But there’s a part of him that is so insistent that it’s all Connor can do. All he can do to make things quieter, to make himself less massive. 

His therapist wants to try him on a new medication and Connor’s considering it. 

He doesn’t think it’ll help much, frankly. 

It won’t shrink him or make him less of a freak or convince people at school to stop pissing in his shoes before gym class so. 

Connor has purposefully not told Evan about the pee in his gym shoes. Evan needs to stay out of trouble and Connor needs to stay out of trouble and he’s pretty sure if the two of them discuss it, Brian Harris will end up decapitated. 

Yikes. 

Connor tries to breathe through his nose again. His hands are shaking. His stomach feels queasy and the French Toast he ate this morning is sitting there like a rock, like a boulder, and fuck, his dad got him concert tickets which was so weird and so nice and Zoe wants to fuck Evan and he’s fucking crazy and none of this is even real. None of this is even real. Like, seriously, there are people starving and people living in poverty and people who get blown up just trying to go to work and here Connor is being so upset over something as stupid and trivial as jealousy over a boy. 

His stomach can’t take it anymore. He throws up in the toilet. Throws up a few times, feeling shaky and clammy and gross but ultimately better when he rinses his mouth out and flushes the toilet. 

He knows. He knows this is bad and his parents are worried and his shrink is pissed and trying to get him to think critically about why he feels the way that he does about his body. Connor doesn’t really feel much about his body, other than it’s too big. He’s not, like, a body person. He exists purely in his head and his body is just a meatsuit carrying his brain around and his brain is fucked up so much that how is he supposed to worry about his fucking body. 

“Does not eating help your brain feel better?” His shrink had asked him point blank last time Connor saw him. 

_Yes,_ Connor thought, because it does. It helps. He doesn’t know why but it helps. 

“No,” Connor answered because he knew only crazy people who admit that not eating felt good for them. 

Connor retreats back across the hall to his bedroom and puts his headphones in. Then he grabs his skateboard and heads out. He thinks about heading over to Heidi’s place but decides against it because well.. 

He knows Evan is invited to Zoe’s party tonight. He knows Evan is planning to attend. He knows that Evan kind of has a thing for Zoe because he always gets a little soft in the face when her name comes up. 

It pisses Connor off. 

But not enough for him to write Evan off totally. 

So he skates around their cul-du-sac for a little while. Gets bored and decides to head to the pool house to retrieve his weed before tonight happens. Maybe he can get baked and hide out in his bedroom until the assholes from school all retreat. 

Yeah, Connor decides. 

Sounds like a festive enough birthday. 

Plus when he smokes he tends to feel less nauseated so. 

There’s that. 

Connor grabs his stash and his pipe and heads back inside. His parents took the lock off of his bedroom door after his freshman year, but there’s no way he’s leaving himself at the mercy of whatever chuckleheads are attending Zoe’s Super Sweet Sixteen, so Connor moves his bookshelf in front of the door as a barricade. 

Then he cracks a window, lights one of his mom’s expensive scented candles to cover the smell, and gets high. Connor’s barely got a tolerance anymore so a couple of hits is more than enough to get him sufficiently stoned. He smiles a little to himself, enjoying the dreamlike feeling, and then decides he wants to just curl up on his bed and read for a while. He grabs his copy of _Orlando,_ because he likes how weird this book is, and turns up his music. Gets cozy against his pillows. 

He’s been sleeping like shit lately. Hardly sleeping at all. He’s seen Evan out at two o’clock in the morning twice this week too. He wonders if Evan doesn’t sleep well either. He wonders what keeps Evan up at night. 

Connor has no reason. 

He just gets nervous. 

He’ll shut his eyes and his brain will send him through a shitty clipshow of his worst moments. Connor will see M’s face a lot, his silent, stony face. He’ll see his sister’s face too, the look she wore when he took off after her down the hall, screaming abuse and threatening to kill her. He’d see his dad’s face swimming above Connor’s, his voice scared and frantic, shaking Connor as he drifted in and out of consciousness asking, _“What did you take, Connor? Stay with me, stay with me, I need you to stay awake. Tell me what you took. What did you take?”_

So he doesn’t sleep much. 

But he is exhausted. 

And the weed is mellow and his room smells like a Yankee candle and the music is sweet and soft, something by The Hush Sound, _“Echo my voice is an echo…”_

Connor shuts his eyes. 

Just for a minute.

* * *

Heidi heads to the office on Saturday almost immediately after they get back from the beach house, with the knowledge that she’ll probably be there until the small hours of the morning. 

She hates it more than she cares to admit. Really, really hates it. 

It’s a weird feeling, hating going to work. She’s never really felt it before. She’s always loved working, spent most of her time at work, and it’s never been an issue. People harp on about work life balance but it never seemed like a problem because she worked with her husband. She saw him all the time. They both understood the workload, the commitment. 

After David died, being at the firm hurt too much, so she moved into being a public defender, and threw herself into it. And it was okay, it was something she recognized, something familiar that helped everything not hurt so much. 

But it’s a hell of a workload, and now that she’s got a kid at home who’s depending on her… 

She’s not going to let Evan down. She’s not. But she has other clients, other people who need her help, work that needs doing, and there are only so many hours in the day. 

Evan never likes leaving the beach house, Heidi can tell, so she promises him they can have dinner there on Sunday night, maybe a couple of other nights that week if it all works out. She makes sure to leave the place stocked up so they can stop by for a meal whenever they feel like it. 

It’s not like it’s that far from their house, and it turns out Evan’s not bad on the grill. 

Heidi still thinks maybe they need a grill for the main house. 

Seeing as she appears to have been permanently uninvited from the Murphy’s annual Fourth of July barbecue. 

She keeps busy the whole day, because there’s loads to do, but she texts Evan a couple of times, just to make sure he’s okay. Neither she nor Evan are exactly experts when it comes to texting. Heidi’s not exactly up with the text lingo or whatever, and Evan’s never even had a phone before now. 

Evan’s texts take a while to arrive but they’re always polite and he spells everything correctly, which is something she appreciates. 

Just before seven, Heidi decides that instead of texting, she’ll call. The phone rings a few times before Evan answers. 

“How’s it going?” he asks her. “Everything okay?”

“I’m getting there,” she tells him truthfully. “How’s everything with you? You getting ready for Zoe’s party?”

“Yeah,” he says, and he sounds a little nervous, which Heidi thinks is cute. It’s pretty obvious he’s got a crush on Zoe, and honestly? Heidi’s not mad about it. Zoe’s a good kid. Responsible. 

Honestly, it’s the only reason Heidi’s not totally freaking out at the idea of Evan going to a party in the first place. She knows that Zoe’s the responsible one. That Zoe wouldn’t let things get out of control. 

She’s not the Murphy kid Heidi needs to worry about. 

Heidi’s still not sure she’s totally on board with Connor and Evan being friends. Overall, she doesn’t feel awesome about the fact that nearly a month into Evan staying with her, they’re still keeping up the pretense that Evan’s her nephew from Seattle, but she’s not sure how she feels about Connor being the one who knows who he really is. 

She’s not about to say anything to Evan about it, because part of her is still stinging from his quiet but insistent rebuke that she’s not his mother. Which of course she knows. She’s not this kid’s mother, even if all her maternal instincts seem to be flaring up every time she looks at him or thinks about him. 

Heidi wants Evan to trust her. To feel safe with her. Sometimes she thinks that she’s succeeding, the times when he lets down his guard and smiles at her, this real smile that reaches his eyes. 

Other times he seems so nervous, so damn jumpy, like he’s terrified that if he puts one foot wrong she’ll kick him out of the house. 

She’s read his files. Five foster homes in just under three years.

There aren’t really any concrete reasons why he moved around so much. None of the files said he was a difficult kid. Just that he was quiet. Withdrawn.

As he got older, angry. 

Heidi can’t really blame him for that. There’s plenty for the kid to be angry about. 

“I hope you have a really great time, honey,” Heidi says. The term of endearment slips out without even thinking about it.

It hangs between them a little awkwardly. 

Heidi knows it’d be weirder if she took it back. 

“Stay out of trouble, yeah?” she continues, trying for a joking tone. 

“I will,” Evan says immediately. 

“I’m sorry I’ve had to work all day,” she says after a moment’s pause. “I just had a lot to catch up on.” She laughs. “If it’s any consolation, I’d much rather have spent the weekend with you at the beach house.”

“Yeah,” says Evan, and even over the phone Heidi can hear something soft and sad in his voice. 

“I should look at getting the beach house connected to the internet,” Heidi says, because the thought’s been on her mind all day. “That way I could work from home.”

There’s a pause, then Evan speaks, his voice quiet and timid. 

“It’s probably nice to have some time to yourself. I wouldn’t want to get in the way.”

Heidi feels her chest tighten painfully. “You don’t,” she insists. “You’re not in the way, Evan, I swear.”

“Okay,” says Evan.

It’s hard to tell through the tinny sound of the phone speaker, but Heidi feels an ache in her stomach because she doesn’t think he believes her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "It's Not a Side Effect of the Cocaine, I'm Thinking It Must Be Love" by Fall Out Boy. 
> 
> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! at the Disco


	12. We're Still So Young, Desperate For Attention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Zoe Murphy's Super Sweet Sixteen.

The party takes very little time to warm up, which Zoe is grateful for. She feels a little foolish, having spent over an hour getting ready and picking out clothes with Madison and Sabrina just to immediately change into her cherry red tie back bikini after a few photos, but it  _ is _ a pool party. And she’s wearing her BIRTHDAY GIRL sash and tiara. 

People arrive in waves, dropping presents on the table and heading to get a drink immediately. Brian and Chad have set up a folding table in the backyard for beer pong, and Sabrina has the karaoke machine up and running. Tommy came by with a few kegs of beer and Zoe’s feeling pretty good as she loses a game of beer pong on purpose.

Plus boys like it better if girls lose. She knows that very well. 

She keeps drinking, laughing, having a good time. She watches Brian and some dude Mason from the soccer team duet an extremely offensive cover of “Livin’ On A Prayer.” Offensive because it’s just. Absolutely awful. Zoe discovers that Dana P. has crashed her party when she throws her arms around Mason drunkenly and the pair of them disappear off toward the house together. 

After a couple more drinks, Zoe and Sabrina troop inside to pee. Sabrina follows Zoe into the bathroom and examines her reflection in the mirror while Zoe pees. “Ugh,” Sabrina says, sucking in her tummy. She’s one of the few girls here not rocking a bikini. Instead she’s wearing a cute yellow one piece with a super low back. “I look like a fucking banana.”

Zoe laughs. “Oh my god shut up.” 

“I do!” Sabrina counters, laughing. “Look at me. I look like a goddamn banana.” 

“You are… beyond stupid,” Zoe says, still laughing. She gets up, flushes the toilet, and heads to the sink to wash her hands. 

Sabrina and Zoe both seem to realize that wearing a one piece means that Sabrina can’t really pee without getting basically naked. 

Sabrina rolls her eyes when Zoe starts to go to the door. “Do not go out there,” Sabrina cautions. “I totally spied Josh C. out there and he was definitely being handsy with the other girls.”

“Gross,” Zoe says. “Whatever, hurry up, it’s freezing in here.” She crosses her arms over her chest. She’s shivering, covered in goosebumps, and her headlights are totally out. 

Sabrina strips off her bathing suit and Zoe gets a full view in the half second before her hands go to cover her boobs. 

Zoe’s never seen another girl naked before. 

Like in bras and panties and whatever, sure. 

But not like. 

Naked. 

Sabrina’s tits are, like, way bigger than Zoe’s. Fuller. And she’s… soft looking. Her curves aren’t like a slight bump over where her bones are. She’s got meat on her bones and somehow that makes her look even prettier. Zoe spies the faintest trail of downy hair from her bellybutton. She finds herself wondering if it’s as soft as it looks. “Are you watching me pee?” Sabrina giggles. 

Zoe laughs awkwardly. 

“Stop being such a fucking lez,” Sabrina jokes, rolling her eyes. She reaches for the toilet paper and Zoe averts her eyes. Sabrina flushes. Standing up and starts stepping back into her one piece. 

Stops when she’s pulled it up over her butt. “Actually,” She says, “We’re all girls here. Can I get your opinion on something?”

Zoe nods dumbly. 

Sabrina pulls her hands away from her boobs. “Are my boobs like totally lopsided?”

Zoe gets a better look. Sabrina has warm brown skin, but her boobs are a shade or two lighter. Her nipples are hard and a darker, richer brown. 

She doesn’t know what to do with her face. She feels herself blushing. She’s struck with the wildest impulse to reach out and touch Sabrina.  _ Don’t be gross oh my god get it together.  _

“No,” Zoe decides after a moment of drinking in the sight, something strange jerking behind her navel, flooding her with warmth. “No, they look pretty even.”

“Are you sure?” Sabrina looks down at them, her tone appraising. She touches her left breast and Zoe feels that jerk, that tug and flood of heat more acutely. “I always think this one is kind of underachieving.”

Zoe clears her throat. “No, I don’t think so.” She doesn’t know what compels her to say the next words she says. “I have a giant mole on mine.”

“Seriously?” Sabrina says. 

“Yeah,” Zoe says and then she’s stripping off her birthday sash and untying her bikini top, letting them drop to the floor. Zoe watches as Sabrina’s cheeks grow rosy. 

She does have a mole on her right tit. On the side. “Is it super gross?”

Sabrina tilts her head slightly. “No. It’s kinda cute?” She smiles. “I’ve never actually seen someone with pink nipples before.” Her voice is different somehow. Like she’s trying hard to keep it normal and struggling. 

Zoe feels like her knees might give out. “What about, like, literally all of the dudes outside?”

“Oh,” Sabrina says. “Yeah I guess…” She’s still looking. She’s still topless. They’re both just… showing off their boobs in the bathroom. 

What the fuck. 

“Fuck, I’m drunker than I thought,” She says, clearing her throat. She scoops up her top and starts tying it back over her chest. 

Sabrina pulls up her suit. “Here,” She says, and her hands quickly and efficiently tie up the back of Zoe’s bikini. Zoe throws her sash back on. Then Sabrina turns her around and looks at her. “Was that weird?”

Zoe laughs awkwardly. “I won’t tell if you won’t,” She hears herself saying. 

Sabrina smiles. “Deal.”

They head back outside. Zoe grabs a jello shot and goes to say hi to a few new arrivals, Julie and Jessica and Laurie. Jared Kleinman is also there, and Zoe can tell Madison is already pretty trashed because she’s letting Jared put his arm around her and talk way too close to her face. But that’s not who Zoe is looking for. 

She finds him lurking by one of the pine trees in the backyard, clutching a solo cup and watching the proceedings apprehensively. 

“Hi,” Zoe says kind of breathlessly. 

Evan’s eyes get big at the sight of Zoe. “Hi,” He says back. He’s trying hard to look at her face, Zoe can tell, but he’s not exactly succeeding. She can see his cheeks are getting pink. She realizes that her nipples are still like totally on display. “H-happy uh. Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” Zoe says with a smile. She pulls Evan in for a strangely executed hug. He holds himself slightly away from her so that their chests don’t actually touch. She glances toward the pool. “You maybe want to go for a swim?”

Evan blinks a few times. He shakes his head looking kind of bashful. “N-no, sorry, didn’t bring my suit.” 

Zoe giggles. “You live next door.” 

Evan smiles awkwardly. “I haven’t b-bought a new one yet.” 

Zoe nods sympathetically. “Airline never found your bag then?” Evan shakes his head. She slurps her drink. “I guess since it’s my birthday,” She says, trying to go for coy. “You wouldn’t consider jumping in in your birthday suit, huh?”

Evan chokes on his drink. 

Okay, so maybe Zoe likes toying with him a little. 

She can own that. 

“I d-d-don’t really swim,” Evan manages, coughing a little. 

“Don’t do a lot of swimming in Seattle?” Zoe asks innocently. 

“Not really,” Evan says, his eyes down. They dart up for a second. Linger around her chest for just a second, then flick back up to her eyes. “Are you having a good birthday?”

Zoe sighs. “I mean yeah. I thought I was getting a car though, and I didn’t.”

Evan nods. “Do you have your license already?”

Zoe shakes her head. “No my test is coming up though,” She says, sighing. She crosses her arms across her chest. “I just thought, you know. Sixteenth birthday, you get a car.”

“Yeah,” Evan says sort of absently. 

Zoe doesn’t know what he’s thinking. She sort of wishes that she did. He always has these looks on his face. These thoughtful looks that make his eyes look stormy and even bluer and Zoe thinks about how easily she could touch him. If she wanted. He’s right there, barely a foot away. 

Zoe starts to lean in, to put her hand on Evan’s chest, and she can tell he’s looking at her, he’s watching her, and Zoe knows that she’s pretty and she knows that he likes her, and maybe tonight might be a good night to finally cash in her v-card, sweet sixteen and no longer a virgin has a good ring to it. Zoe starts to tilt her head and Evan’s eyes are huge and he’s looking at her mouth -

“MURPH!” Madison shouts from the pool where she is currently sitting on Chad’s shoulders. Looks like a game of chicken has been started. “GET YOUR ASS IN THE POOL!” 

Zoe looks at Evan. “Looks like I’m being challenged.” 

“Duty calls,” He says quietly. 

“You sure you don’t want to come in?” Zoe asks genuinely. “If you went upstairs you could probably borrow some trunks from… my brother or something.” 

Evan shakes his head. “G-go have fun.”

Zoe’s a little disappointed by that answer, but she jumps into the pool after stripping off her sash and tiara. Brian Harris sinks under the water and Zoe climbs up on his shoulders. She looks across the pool to find her opponent and sees it’s Sabrina on Caleb Gulph’s shoulders. The boys head toward one another, and Zoe grasps Sabrina’s shoulders, trying to wrench her off of Caleb. 

Sabrina’s way stronger though. She’s got super muscular arms, and she will not budge. It’s taking pretty much everything Zoe’s got not to tumble into the water, and from the crowd watching them around the pool she hears someone shouting, “Take off your top! Girl fight!” 

Sabrina laughs and Zoe almost manages to unseat her. Zoe sees that Evan’s joined the crowd around the pool, watching her with this interested glint in his eyes, and then Zoe gets an idea. 

“Hey,” She says to Sabrina. “Just… go with this okay?”

“What?” Sabrina says, looking confused. 

Zoe smiles. Leans in and gently brushes her lips against Sabrina’s. The crowd around the pool loses it, people start wolf whistling and howling and making other assorted barnyard noises and, emboldened by the reaction, Zoe kisses Sabrina more deeply, putting her tongue in Sabrina’s mouth and Sabrina’s hands are in her hair, and her mouth tastes like strawberry jello and sugary lipgloss and Zoe’s actually kind of into it. Sabrina opens her mouth more to accommodate Zoe’s tongue and then Zoe grabs her shoulders hard and wrenches Sabrina off of Caleb’s shoulders. 

People laugh and Sabrina’s head pops up from under the water and she shouts, “You bitch!” Then she bodily pulls Zoe off of Brian and people are cheering them on as they splash and play fight. 

When Zoe looks out at the crowd, Evan’s gone missing. 

She can’t help feeling a little disappointed.

* * *

This was a fucking stupid idea. 

Such a fucking stupid idea. 

Evan should absolutely, one hundred percent not be here, this was such a fucking stupid idea, he knew it from the moment he showed up to find half the school drinking and half-naked. He should have just turned around and gone back down the driveway and back home.

But here he is, at this party full of people he doesn’t know and doesn’t care to, and Zoe’s at the center of the crowd, drinking and laughing and partying and wearing this tiny red bikini that is definitely going to feature in his impure thoughts about her from now on. 

Fucking hell. 

He’s standing awkwardly near some trees in the backyard like a creep and he’s either being ignored or looked at with interest, then whispered about. Every now and then, some girl he doesn’t know will come start a conversation with him, blatantly flirting in her bathing suits. 

It’s so fucking weird. 

Evan has to admit, he’s starting to get a little used to it, the whole being blatantly flirted with. It’s a small, kind of insular community, so people seem to have noticed his arrival, and after his altercation with Jared Kleinman, people definitely talk. 

He doesn’t make a habit of eavesdropping, but he’s overheard a few girls talk about him like he’s this mysterious, dangerous bad boy, which is kind of hilarious to him. 

Any girl who’s brave enough to come and talk to him should realize that he’s an awkward, sweaty mess that has no business talking to girls in bathing suits, but somehow they don’t seem to be getting the memo because. 

Since he’s not really saying much to them, they probably think he’s just… more mysterious. 

His life has gotten so goddamn  _ weird. _

Evan wishes Connor was answering his texts. Considers just wandering around the house, trying to find Connor’s room, because Connor had been pretty clear about his intention to just sit in his room and ignore the party happening when Evan had talked to him about it. 

He’d seemed… kind of pissed about the whole thing, to be honest. And kind of pissed at Evan for wanting to attend. 

Evan’s trying his damndest to make sure that he’s not being super fucking obvious he’s got a thing for Zoe in front of her brother, but he doesn’t think he’s succeeding. He’s pretty sure Connor knows. 

He’s pretty sure Connor’s not thrilled about it, but he hasn’t ever said anything. 

Probably Connor thinks that Evan’s not good enough for his sister, which is absolutely true. 

Evan knows he’s not good enough for Zoe. 

He’s spent his whole goddamn life being not good enough. 

He’s used to it by now. 

“Way to lurk creepily,” says a nasal voice from beside him, and Evan turns to see an obviously drunk Jared Kleinman approaching. 

He’s got to be pretty fucking drunk if he thinks talking to Evan is a good idea.

Evan doesn’t say anything. Jared just looks him up and down and lets out this laugh. 

“You know I’m onto you, right?”

Evan doesn’t say anything, just looks at him and blinks. 

His heart starts beating way, way too fucking fast. 

What the fuck. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck. 

Jared knows. 

He knows he knows he knows he knows he knows he knows. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

He’s freaking the fuck out internally, but manages to just stare Jared down. “How so?” he says, almost surprised at how unbothered he sounds. 

Jared laughs again, narrowing his eyes. “You’re totally out of your depth around here. You can dress the part all you want, but I know you don’t belong.” He takes a chug of his drink, then continues. “Everyone knows that Heidi Herzberg was nobody until she married David Henderson. You being  _ her  _ nephew? It doesn’t make you anyone. Doesn’t mean you can just show up here and act like you fit in.”

Evan can’t help it. He actually has to laugh at that. 

What part of barely talking to anyone but the Murphy siblings and punching Jared in the face looks like fitting in? Fitting in isn’t really what he’s going for here. He isn’t here to make friends, to get all buddy-buddy with spoiled rich assholes. 

He’s here to just… not stand out too much. 

That’s not fitting in. 

Not really. 

Jared lets out this frustrated sigh, his cheeks going redder. 

Across the backyard, Zoe is heading toward the house with Sabrina Patel, who is in Evan’s biology class. Zoe’s laughing as they walk, her hair flying over her shoulders, and Evan can’t keep his eyes off her. 

Jared follows his gaze. 

“You know you don’t have a shot with Zoe, right?” Jared says snidely. “She might, like, slum it with you for a bit, but she’ll drop you the second she realizes how completely insignificant you really are.”

Evan doesn’t bother responding. He just watches as Zoe disappears from view. 

It’s not like Jared’s saying anything Evan doesn’t already know. 

He seems pissed off that Evan’s not answering. Not taking the bait. 

“If you think getting cosy with her brother will help you get in Zoe’s pants, you’re fucking delusional,” says Jared after a moment. “Zoe’s not stupid. She knows Quitter’s a write-off.”

Evan feels his heart rate speed up, his blood pounding too fast in his ears. 

He takes a moment, then looks at Jared. Just looks at him until the guy goes a little pale. 

“The black eye suited you, Kleinman,” Evan says darkly. “Want another one?”

Jared goes even paler. His hand tightens around his solo cup.

“You’re such a freak,” Jared mutters as he makes a hasty exit. 

Evan watches him go mingle with the rest of the drunk assholes by the pool. Decides to go refill his drink. He looks around to see if there’s anything other than beer, anything that’s not fucking alcoholic, because if he’s going to get through this without a fight he’s going to need to stay sober. 

There are cans of Coke on the table. Evan takes one that’s unopened and pours it into a solo cup so he can at least give the illusion of drinking. 

There’s a table nearby where a girl he vaguely recognizes from his English class is doing a line of coke. 

Fucking hell, this party is a fucking nightmare. He could get into far less trouble where he’s from. 

Evan takes his cup back to his spot near the trees and pulls out his phone. Fires off another text to Connor, hoping he might get an answer, that Connor might just kind of magically appear and make him feel… less like a fraud. 

_ “You’re totally out of your depth around here. You can dress the part all you want, but I know you don’t belong.” _

Jared Kleinman talks a lot of bullshit, but he’s bang on the money with this one.

He puts his phone in his pocket after a while, realizing it’s a lost cause. Connor’s probably busy doing something else, or maybe he bailed and went to do something else. He probably isn’t even home and Evan’s being totally weird and codependent because Connor’s basically his only friend. 

The only friend he’s ever had, really. 

That’s the kind of shit you don’t admit to someone if you want them to keep hanging out with you, fuck. 

“Hi,” says a voice he recognizes. 

Evan hadn’t seen Zoe approach him. How the hell had he not noticed? She’s standing right there and she’s in a red bikini and he can see her nipples through the top and Zoe Murphy has really fucking nice boobs, he spends far too much time thinking about her boobs, fuck, he needs to look at her face, he needs to stop being such a fucking creep what the fuck.

What the fuck. 

“Hi,” he manages to choke out. “H-happy uh. Happy birthday.”

Zoe smiles. “Thanks,” she says, and then all of a sudden she’s wrapping her arms around him in a hug and holy shit, she’s never done this before, he’s not used to being hugged at the best of times but this is completely overwhelming and if he holds her too tight her boobs will be pressed right against his chest and he thinks if that happens his head will explode so he tries to hold himself back so it’s not completely fucking creepy. 

What the fuck. Holy shit, what the fuck. 

Zoe looks at him, then glances toward the pool. “You maybe want to go for a swim?” she asks. 

Evan’s heart starts beating too fast. His throat feels like it’s closing up a little. 

He blinks, trying not to freak out. Shakes his head. “N-no, sorry,” he says, trying to sound like he’s not freaking out. “Didn’t bring my suit.”

Zoe laughs at that, this cute little giggle that makes his heart do a somersault. “You live next door.”

Evan tries to smile. “I haven’t b-bought a new one yet.”

Zoe nods knowingly. “Airline never found your bag then?” Evan shakes his head. Zoe takes a sip of her drink and Evan follows suit. Then she looks at him through her eyelashes. “I guess since it’s my birthday, you wouldn’t consider jumping in in your birthday suit, huh?”

Evan chokes on his drink. 

What the fuck. 

What the fuck what the fuck is she trying to kill him?

“I d-d-don’t really swim,” Evan says after a moment, his voice coming out rough and scratchy. He must look like such a fucking disaster, what the fuck. 

“Don’t do a lot of swimming in Seattle?” Zoe asks. 

Evan’s heart twinges a little. 

He looks at the floor. 

“Not really,” he admits, then chances a glance back at her. His eyes catch on her bikini top, her nipples still visible, and she really does have very nice boobs. They look like they’d fit in his hand, like they’d be soft and  _ fuck  _ he has to look her in the eye this is creepy he is a  _ disaster  _ in the body of a person what the fuck. 

“Are you having a good birthday?” he manages to say, trying not to seem like a total creep. 

Zoe sighs. “I mean yeah. I thought I was getting a car though, and I didn’t.”

The idea of getting a car for a birthday present seems insane to him, but Evan nods anyway. “Do you have your license already?”

Zoe shakes her head. “No my test is coming up though,” she says with a sigh. She folds her arms, and Evan feels this weird stabbing feeling in his chest because fuck she thinks he’s so creepy for staring at her boobs fuck. 

“I just thought, you know,” Zoe continues. “Sixteenth birthday, you get a car.”

Sixteenth birthday, you get a car. 

Fuck. 

That’s… 

Fuck, is that what’s normal around here? That’s the thing that happens, that’s what’s expected? That’s…

This is a whole different world. One he doesn’t think he understands, doesn’t think he’ll ever understand. 

_ “You know you don’t have a shot with Zoe, right? She might, like, slum it with you for a bit, but she’ll drop you the second she realizes how completely insignificant you really are.” _

Zoe’s looking at him, like she’s waiting for a response. Evan manages to choke one out. 

“Yeah.”

It’s not exactly deep, but at least it’s something. 

Zoe’s looking at him kind of intently, her eyes darting to his lips, and Evan feels this strange, almost staticy feeling in the air. She’s leaning in toward him and he can’t take her eyes off her, her lips are coated in something glossy looking and she smells a little like strawberries and Evan thinks she might taste like them, too. 

She tilts her head. She’s almost impossibly close. 

Is she going to kiss him? Is he brave enough to close the distance? 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck -

“MURPH!”

Evan looks over to the pool. There’s a girl sitting on the shoulders of one of the assholes he got into a fight with at that party on the beach. He can’t remember her name but he always sees her with Zoe. 

“GET YOUR ASS IN THE POOL!” calls the girl, and Evan can’t tell if he’s disappointed or relieved. 

_ “She’ll drop you the second she realizes how completely insignificant you really are.” _

Fuck.

“Looks like I’m being challenged,” says Zoe, and he can’t tell if she looks disappointed. 

Evan looks at her. “Duty calls,” he says. 

Zoe looks back at him. “You sure you don’t want to come in? If you went upstairs you could probably borrow some trunks from… my brother or something.” 

Even if he did swim, there’s no way Evan’s getting a pool with that asshole from the beach party. He can’t even remember the guy’s name. Chase or Chad or some bullshit. 

He hates that guy. Hates the way he and the other guy spoke about Zoe. 

But they’re Zoe’s friends. The people that Zoe chooses to spend her time with. 

Because they’re from her world, and Evan’s on the outside looking in. 

“G-go have fun,” he says, and Zoe smiles and waves and practically skips over to the pool like she hasn’t got a care in the world. 

Moments later, she’s on the shoulders of the other asshole from the party that Evan fought, which is just fan-fucking-tastic. There’s a crowd forming near the pool and despite himself, Evan finds himself wandering over. 

Sabrina is on some other guy's shoulders in a yellow bathing suit and she and Zoe are now engaged in some kind of game Evan doesn’t really know that seems to involve them both trying to get the other off the guy’s shoulders and into the pool. 

Zoe does not seem to be winning. Sabrina’s definitely putting up a fight. 

“Take off your top!” yells someone from behind him. “Girl fight!”

Sabrina laughs and for a moment, it looks like Zoe might have a shot. Evan has to admit, this is kind of entertaining to watch. 

For the briefest of moments, Zoe looks at him, then leans in closer to Sabrina. 

And kisses her. 

The reaction from the people surrounding Evan is immediate. There’s hollering and whistling and howling and it seems to egg them on, because it doesn’t take long for the two of them to be, like, properly making out. 

Evan feels his heart drop to his stomach, twist uncomfortably, and he can’t really identify what the fuck it is he’s feeling right now. He looks around the crowd to see that asshole Chase or whatever has gotten out of the pool and he and Jared are standing there wolf whistling and saying all sorts of bullshit about how hot it is and Evan’s just…

Fuck, he shouldn’t be here. 

He really shouldn’t be here. 

He doesn’t…

Zoe grabs Sabrina’s shoulders and pushes her into the pool. The crowd starts laughing and Sabrina pulls Zoe back into the water, then they’re splashing and pushing each other in the water and it’s…

Evan shouldn’t be here. 

He breaks away from the crowd and heads into the house, his stomach still twisting weirdly. Objectively, he gets the whole ‘girls making out is hot’ thing, because it’s certainly not the first time he’s come across it, but it seems really… fucking performative? Like, they’re just putting on a show to turn guys on. 

And that…

He doesn’t like it. Doesn’t like it at all. 

It’s not like Evan has any claim on Zoe. Sure, she flirts with him a lot, and maybe it felt like she was going to kiss him earlier, but she can do what she wants. It’s her birthday, she can have fun with her friends, it’s just… not really Evan’s idea of fun. 

Mark watched a lot of lesbian porn. Not as much since Elaine showed up, but Evan used to hear him full on watching porn in the living room when he first came to live with him, which in retrospect is pretty fucking traumatizing. He’d watch lesbian porn and talk about how it was hot and then say shit about how faggots deserved to die, that it was wrong and disgusting and that if Evan ever turned out to be gay, Mark would kill him. 

Also pretty fucking traumatizing, in retrospect.

He remembers the first time Mark said that, and how he hadn’t been able to sleep for like three days. 

Just kind of… weirdly terrified that somehow, he was gay and didn’t know, but Mark would find out and would kill him in his sleep. 

Evan’s pretty sure he was exaggerating. That he wasn’t actually threatening to kill him, because  _ that  _ is a level of fucked up he can’t really handle right now, or possibly ever, but…

Evan thinks about boobs way too fucking often to be gay, anyway, so he’s pretty sure he’s safe there. 

Fuck. 

That is not what he wanted to be thinking about right now, fuck. 

The layout to the house is pretty similar to Heidi’s, only inside this house, it’s fucking chaos. There are people everywhere, drinking and smoking and making out and throwing shit and fuck. This is a disaster. Holy fuck. 

Evan heads up the stairs, hoping to find somewhere to hide for a bit, just to get his heart rate under control. At the back of his mind, he’s hoping he might find Connor, but at this point he’s pretty sure that if Connor’s home, he’d have noticed the chaos by now. 

He’s probably out. 

It’s probably for the best. 

Evan shouldn’t have come to this party. 

He really shouldn’t have come to this party. 

He hears broken glass and loud laughter and fuck. What the fuck. Something clearly just happened and he should probably go make sure people are okay. 

There’s this weird banging noise from the door he’s standing by, a door with a sign that says “ _ PRIVATE PROPERTY: DO NOT ENTER.” _

Evan’s barely got time to process that before the door opens and out comes Connor. He’s in a t-shirt and his hair is disheveled and he’s blinking like someone woke him up and just kind of looks at Evan like he’s not quite sure he’s there. 

Evan has never been so glad to see someone in his life. 

Connor blinks and looks at him, bleary-eyed. It’s kind of cute, Evan thinks, then immediately regrets because that’s a weird fucking thought. 

“What broke?” asks Connor, his voice rough with sleep. 

Evan shrugs. “No idea,” he confesses. “Things are kinda…”

He can’t find the words, so he just kind of makes a face. Connor seems to get it. 

“Shit,” he mutters. He shakes his head, blinks a few times, like he’s trying to wake up. “Where’s Zo?”

Evan’s chest clenches a little. “Dunno,” he says. “She was uh. Sh-she was making out with Sabrina Patel last I saw. Brian and Jared were all egging them on and I…”

He trails off. 

Not really sure how to explain, what to say, and definitely knowing that Connor doesn’t want to hear about Evan having a thing for his sister, fuck.

“Jesus Christ,” Connor mutters. “I’m so fucking dead.” Evan looks at him quizzically. Connor just looks… so defeated. “Trust me, somehow this’ll be my fault.”

* * *

Connor wakes up to the sound of glass breaking and a lot of booming laughter. 

He sits straight up in bed, his heart racing, disoriented and freaked for a moment. 

Zoe’s party. Right. He glances at his alarm clock. It’s after ten already. He must have been out for hours. The candle in his room is half melted. Connor blows it out and tries to calm his racing heart. 

Things have clearly gotten out of control downstairs. 

Fuck his parents are going to kill him. 

He blinks sleep from his eyes and stumbles out of bed. Blows the candle out. Wrenches the bookcase away from his door just enough to squeeze out his bedroom door and is surprised to come face to face with Evan. 

He gives Connor a questioning look. 

“What broke?” Connor croaks. 

Evan shrugs. “No idea. Things are kinda…” He pulls a face. 

“Shit.” Connor shakes his head, trying to wake up. Make his brain work. “Where’s Zo?”

Evan’s face goes all twisted and uncomfortable. “Dunno. She was uh. Sh-she was making out with Sabrina Patel last I saw.” He looks kinda pissed. “Brian and Jared were all egging them on and I…”

“Jesus Christ,” Connor mutters. So she’s shitfaced. “I’m so fucking dead.”

Evan looks confused. 

“Trust me, somehow this’ll be my fault,” Connor says darkly. 

Evan’s looking at the door behind Connor’s head. “That your room?”

Connor nods. “I passed out. Put my bookcase in front of it so nobody would try to come in. I… Shit.”

“Cool sign,” Evan says and Connor can’t tell if he’s kidding. 

The sign, which reads “ _ PRIVATE PROPERTY: DO NOT ENTER”  _ isn’t something Connor thinks anyone has seen outside of his family. Connor looks down at his socked feet. “I stole it when I was like. Fourteen.”

Evan’s eyebrows travel up toward his hairline. 

“It’s stupid,” Connor mutters. “Shit, look, I gotta-”

“Can I help?” Evan asks. 

Connor could almost kiss him, he’s so grateful. 

Wow okay, half awake brain. Jesus. 

“Thank you,” Connor says. They head down the foyer and Connor shoves his feet into his shoes. People are making out on the sofa in bathing suits and there’s a vase that’s been shattered on the floor. Fuck. Connor leads them back through the living room, flicking on the lights and barking, “Out! Get out, party’s over!”

Jared is one of the people necking on the sofa. “Jesus calm down, Quitter,” he mumbles drunkenly from where he’s buried in Madison’s cleavage. 

Connor feels white hot rage flash through him. His hand is automatically balled into a fist. He feels like he could punch him. 

“Watch your mouth, Kleinman,” Evan growls from beside Connor and Jared’s face goes pale. 

“C’mon Madison,” Jared says, tugging her to her feet and scurrying out of the room. 

Connor sighs. 

Heads toward the back door. 

The backyard is chaos. It looks like half of the fucking school is here. There’s an overturned keg and beer pong happening and in the darkness Connor can make out his sister in the pool where she is pressed up against Brian Harris who is tracing his fingers over the straps of her bikini top. Connor feels sick at the sight, and he can feel Evan go still beside him. When he looks in Evan’s direction, he looks. Pissed. He’s wearing that same blazing look he wore when he fought Brian and Chad at the beach party. 

“That asshole…” Evan seethes beside him. 

“Easy, Casanova,” Connor says. “I got it. Just. Go turn all the lights on?”

“Where…?”

“Inside the sliding glass door,” Connor says shortly, screwing his resolve up. He heads to the edge of the pool. “Zoe, what the hell?” He shouts over the music that’s blaring from a stereo on the patio. 

Zoe looks away from Brian. Her eyes are glazed over and she’s obviously drunk. “Oh fuck,” she says. “I thought you left.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Connor shouts, his temper glaring. “Mom and dad are gonna freak!”

“What they don’t know won’t kill them,” she says in this obnoxious sing-song voice. 

“Zo, the house is fucking trashed! What were you thinking?” Connor practically screams. 

Zoe’s eyes flash angrily. She starts moving toward the ladder. Brian grabs her by the elbow and says, “I got this, babe.”

_ Babe.  _

Fucking hell. 

Connor’s going to kill him. He’s actually going to kill him. 

“We got a problem, Quitter?” Brian taunts, getting out of the pool. He’s dripping water all over Connor’s shoes as he gets in Connor’s face. 

“I’m talking to my sister,” Connor spits, shoving Brian hard. He stumbles but doesn’t go down. Connor is suddenly acutely aware that Brian looks like. 

How guys are meant to look. 

Huge. 

Easily three times as wide as Connor. All muscle. Solid. Like a horse or a pissed off bull. And Connor just waved a red flag in front of his face. 

“The fuck is your problem, faggot?” Brian laughs, and in the time it takes Connor to blink he’s being punched in the gut. Connor falls to one knee, the wind knocked out of him. Brian raises his fist to hit Connor again but then Evan’s in his way, blocking the blow. 

“Get out of here,” Connor gasps out. “It’s not fucking worth it-”

“Enough!” Zoe’s voice has joined the cacophony. “Both you are so fucking stupid and you are  _ ruining _ my party!” Connor looks up to see she’s firmly planted herself between Brian and Evan who are glaring at one another. 

“Jesus, Zoe,” Connor rasps, getting to his feet. His stomach is killing him. “Get these fucking people out of here before someone calls the cops!”

“Fuck you!” Zoe shows. “You always do this, you always ruin everything! Just get out, leave me alone, I hate you! I fucking  _ hate  _ you!”

Connor opens his mouth but nothing comes out. 

It doesn’t matter that it’s true. It’s the fact of her saying it. Here. In front of everyone. Confirming it.

“Come on, Connor,” Evan says, his voice low and dark. “You’re right, it’s not worth it.” He throws an arm around Connor’s shoulder and practically steers him away from the jeering crowd. 

“Yeah, that’s right, walk away Quitter!”

Connor can feel Evan’s hand on his shoulder shaking. He debates breaking away to go kick Brian’s ass but knows that won’t end well. Evan tightens his grip on Connor’s shoulder.

He pushes Connor into the garage. The lights are on and three guys Connor’s genuinely never seen before are passing a joint in front of his car. 

“Out!” Connor snaps and the three of them scatter quickly. 

He turns to look at Evan, his heart still hammering hard in his chest. “I’m so fucking sorry-”

At the exact same moment Evan says, “Are you okay?”

The jumble of words makes it sound like someone’s shouted “Are you fucking sorry?”

They smile at each other awkwardly. 

“I’m okay,” Evan says softly. “Don’t worry about me. Are you? Okay?” 

Connor runs a hand over his face. Outside the party rages on, music shaking the walls of the garage and loud splashes echoing across the yard. “I’m dead. I’m fucking dead.”

“You tried to break it up, you tried…”

Connor frowns. “Not that hard,” he says quietly. “Shit.”

He’s not normally a snitch but this is out of control. It’s just. Out of control. 

Connor pulls his cellphone from his pocket. He sees that he has several texts from Evan that he hasn’t read. He looks at Evan questioningly. “You texted me?”

Evan looks embarrassed. “Yeah, I. I dunno thought you might be around and… it’s stupid, whatever.”

“I’m sorry,” Connor says quietly. “I fell asleep. Before. That’s why I didn’t answer. I just…. passed out in my room.”

“Oh.”

“I wasn’t ignoring you,” Connor adds. “I wouldn’t…”

“No I. I know. I know you wouldn’t.” 

Connor nods. “Fuck, okay, I gotta…” 

Connor calls his dad. 

Voicemail. 

He tries his mom. 

Voicemail again. 

He tries his dad two more times. Leaves a message. “Hey dad, it’s Connor. Look, Zoe’s party is… it's kinda nuts and I think you might need to come home. I’m sorry, please call me back.”

He follows it with a text, despite knowing his parents don’t exactly understand texting. 

Debates calling the police but knows his parents will freak if he calls the cops on his own sister. And Evan is here and he doesn’t want to risk him getting into more trouble. 

“What do I do?” Connor asks Evan helplessly. “Is Heidi home?”

Evan shakes his head. “Working. She's been catching up on stuff since I… I’m kind of a time suck.”

Connor feels horribly guilty. “Dude, you should go. This could get ugly and if someone calls the cops…”

“And leave you alone with those douchebags? No way.”

Connor heaves a heavy sigh, leaning back against his car. He feels idiotically like he might cry. Zoe’s drunk. She’s letting that fucker Brian put his hands all over her. There is so much booze at this party and lord only knows what else with Jared around. Fuck. 

Fuck. 

Connor angrily kicks out at one of his car tires. “Fuck!” He shouts, kicking it again, causing pain to shoot up his toes and leg. 

Evan’s looking at the car thoughtfully. “We could go,” He says a moment later. 

“What?”

“This party‘s a disaster,” Evan says. “So let's just. Go. Zoe’s a big girl. If she wants to hang out with these assholes and get into trouble, then that’s her business.” He gives Connor a small smile. “Come on, if we stay one of us  _ will _ punch that Brad guy.”

“Brian,” Connor says with a smile of his own. “Yeah, fine. Let’s go somewhere. Fuck this party.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "The Only Difference Between Suicide and Martyrdom is Press Coverage" by Panic! at the Disco. 
> 
> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! at the Disco


	13. This Is Fact Not Fiction, For The First Time In Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan tells the truth and Connor gets a birthday gift.

The first thing they do once they get into Connor’s car is put as much distance between them and the party as they can. Once they’re well clear of the house, Connor turns to Evan. “Where do you want to go?” he asks. 

Evan doesn’t even have to think about it. “Heidi has, uh, a beach house? We could go there. I have the spare key, we could… just hang out?”

Connor just looks at him, something unreadable in his face. Evan feels like he should explain, so he just keeps talking. “T-there’s not much there, it’s k-kind of lame we can t-totally do something else it’s okay forget I mentioned it we can d-do whatever-”

“I know where it is,” Connor interrupts, his cheeks going a little pink, like he’s embarrassed to cut Evan off. “If that’s where you want to go, then that’s where we’ll go.”

Evan feels his cheeks burn. Nods. 

Something in his stomach untwists a little, the closer they get to the water. They don’t talk at all in the drive, which isn’t all that long really, and soon they’re at the beach house, and Connor’s parking where Heidi usually parks. 

Evan feels the tension he’s been carrying in his shoulders start to melt away as they get out of the car and walk toward the beach. There’s something about the salt in the air and the sound of the waves that makes him feel better about all of it. 

Even though everything is objectively still pretty fucking fucked. 

They sit a little ways away from the house, on the shore. Evan looks out to the ocean and smiles. Breathes in the salt air and listens to the sound of the waves, just listens. 

It makes it easier to deal with all the shit, just being out here. 

After a moment, he feels Connor’s eyes on him. Looks to see Connor’s watching him, looking at him intently, like he’s a little taken aback by what he’s seeing. 

Evan’s probably grinning like an idiot, fuck. After the night they’ve had, it must seem so fucking stupid. 

“I like it out here,” Evan tries to explain. 

Connor nods. Smiles a little. “Yeah it’s. Like. Super pretty.” 

Evan relaxes a little. Smiles back at Connor, because there’s something in his voice that makes Evan feel like he’s not just fucking with him, he actually means it. 

Connor’s got his arms wrapped around himself protectively and Evan can see that he’s got goosebumps. He’s shivering a little, and Evan feels a pang of something in his chest. “You cold?”

He gets a shrug in response, but Connor’s still shivering, and Evan kind of hates it. “Here,” he says, and takes off his hoodie and hands it to Connor. 

Connor has this expression Evan can’t read. Maybe it’s embarrassment.

“No, I-” Connor tries to argue. 

“Take it,” Evan insists. Connor relents and puts on the hoodie. He stops shivering almost immediately, and Evan’s really fucking happy about it. 

Connor wraps his arms around himself again. His shoulders relax a little. He looks at Evan. “So,” he says. “Do you have a thing for my sister?”

Evan’s stomach churns uncomfortably. He coughs. “I uh. I mean. She’s nice,” he says, only to remember her screaming that she hated Connor, the way her face contorted as she yelled at him, the way Connor had seemed to shrink against it, like he’d been waiting for it to be said out loud for the longest time. 

Thinking about it makes him ache. 

“I mean…” Evan rubs the back of his neck. Tries to figure out what to say. “I…”

“Forget it,” Connor says immediately, in a rush. “You don’t have to answer that, I’m being weird, ignore me.”

“I mean. It’s not like. I mean…” Evan looks at Connor, trying to explain. “Where I’m from there aren’t… people don’t like. Look at me?” 

For a moment, it looks like Connor might cry. 

He nods. Doesn’t say anything. 

There’s something like understanding in his expression, and Evan realizes with a jolt that Connor gets it. 

Somehow, he gets it. 

That’s…

It means something. 

Evan doesn’t know what, but it’s something. 

He sees the muscles in Connor’s throat move as he swallows. Then Connor’s eyes are on him. Looking at him. 

Really looking at him. 

Evan feels… strange and off-balance and exposed, but he doesn’t hate it, he doesn’t hate it at all. Connor’s eyes are so much darker in the moonlight. 

They’re really pretty. 

Fuck, that’s weird to think, Evan needs to stop being so fucking weird. 

Seconds later, Evan hears his stomach grumble. It’s loud enough that they can both hear it over the sound of the waves. 

Connor blinks. Laughs a little. “You okay there?”

“I didn’t have dinner,” Evan realizes suddenly. “Fuck, it’s nearly midnight, I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

Something flashes across Connor’s face that Evan doesn’t quite understand. “Me either.”

Evan nods, then stands up. “Come on,” he says. “There’s food in the house. Let’s head in for a bit, yeah?”

Connor looks up at him, then nods. Evan holds out a hand and helps him up. 

It takes very little effort to pull Connor to his feet. He’s really skinny. He’s got long, slender fingers, and his hands are cool to the touch. They’re nice, though. Evan likes his nails, likes how they’re painted. 

Thinks it suits him. 

Fuck, he’s got to let go of Connor’s hand before it gets even weirder than it already is. 

It takes him another moment to let go. Which is weird. 

Definitely weird. 

He’s just…

Tonight is full of weird. 

When they get to the front porch, Evan fishes his key out of his pocket and lets them in. Turns on the light and closes the door behind them to keep the warmth in. He’s a little cold now, given that he’s only in a t-shirt. He heads to the kitchen and Connor follows him.

Evan heads to the fridge and looks into it, trying to figure out what they can eat. What Connor might actually eat. He’s noticed how his friend seems to find eating hard sometimes, how just eating a sandwich can seem like it’s such an effort. 

He doesn’t really know what’s going on there, but he wants Connor to eat something.

“I could make an omelette,” he offers. “We have, like, spinach and tomatoes and cheese? I could do that?” He looks over at Connor, whose expression seems a little pained. “Or I could just do plain scrambled eggs and toast.”

Connor smiles a little weakly. “That could be good,” he says, something tentative in his voice. His face twists. “I, uh, my stomach kind of hurts. After Brian punched me.”

Evan feels his blood racing. “That guy is such a fucking asshole,” he spits out. “Fuck. I should have bashed his face in, he fucking deserved it.”

Connor shakes his head. “I’m glad you didn’t,” he says, his voice firm. “He’s not worth the trouble.”

“But you are,” Evan replies, almost without thinking. He feels his cheeks burn a little. “I’m so fucking sorry he hurt you, I should have stopped it, I-”

“He’s not worth you getting into trouble,” Connor interrupts, even more insistent. “He’s not. I want you to stick around, okay? So I appreciate that you didn’t bash his face in.”

Evan looks at him. Frowns a little. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks after a moment. 

Connor nods. Shrugs. Smiles this small smile, looking at Evan with an expression he can’t place. “I’m okay.”

Something occurs to Evan as he catches a glimpse of the clock. “I left your birthday present here,” he realizes. “It’s in my room.”

Connor blinks. “You got me a present?”

“It’s your birthday,” Evan says, a little awkwardly. “For another ten minutes. Of course I got you a present. Let me just go get it.”

He’d gone to the mall with Heidi after school yesterday to buy Zoe’s birthday present for the party. Honestly, he’d had absolutely no idea what to get, but Heidi had helped pick out some earrings from this trendy store. She’d assured Evan that Zoe would like them, and Evan’s inclined to believe her. 

Not that he saw Zoe opening presents. She was too busy getting drunk, making out with girls to get guys’ attention and screaming that she hated Connor. 

He swallows down the weird, bitter taste in his mouth and picks up the small black gift bag he’d put Connor’s present in. Originally he hadn’t been sure what to get Connor, but he’d gone into Hot Topic and stumbled across something he thought Connor might like almost immediately. 

Evan hopes he likes it. 

Connor’s eyes are big when Evan hands him the bag. “You didn’t have to get me a present.”

“It’s your birthday,” Evan says with a shrug. “It’s not, like, a huge thing? I just… I don’t know, I thought you’d like it. If you hate it, t-then I’ll take it back or whatever it’s not a big deal…”

Evan trails off as Connor pulls the belt out of the bag and his eyes light up. His face breaks into a soft smile. “I love it,” he says quietly. 

“It’s not much,” Evan says, embarrassed. “I just… I don’t know, I figured it was your style and I thought it would be useful and that you probably wanted something useful instead of something that was just, like, stuff and I’ve never bought a gift for someone before so I hope I did okay.”

Connor looks at him with this strange expression. 

“You’ve never bought someone a gift before?”

“No,” he admits, embarrassed. “My, uh… I was little when my mom died, and I didn’t really… I was young in foster care, too, and my dad isn’t exactly, like… Christmas or birthdays aren’t really a thing for him so… no?”

Connor’s still got that strange expression. “You got Zoe something, though, right?”

Evan nods. “Yeah. But Heidi had to help me pick it out because I d-didn’t really know what to get, I don’t really know what she’d like, but I… I picked this myself.” He shrugs. Looks at his shoes. “That’s so weird and lame I know I’m sorry it’s weird I made it weird-”

“Thank you,” Connor interrupts, smiling. “Seriously man, this is awesome. Thank you.”

* * *

Connor’s been to David and Heidi’s beach house before, but never like this. Before he started high school his family would come out here with them sometimes. His dad and David tried to teach Connor and Zoe to surf to varying results. Connor wasn’t exactly coordinated enough to ever stay upright for long. 

The ocean is pretty calm tonight. 

Evan’s smiling. 

Not the guarded half smiles Connor’s used to seeing. He’s genuinely smiling. It’s… stunning. Fuck, Connor wants to bottle that look. Capture it and press it between the pages of a book so he can keep it and pull it out to look at when stuff sucks. Evan seems to catch Connor looking and his smile gets a little less broad. “I like it out here,” he says, almost defensively. 

Connor nods. Tries to smile back. “Yeah it’s. Like. Super pretty.” He’s not talking about the ocean but Evan smiles like he is. Connor doesn’t correct the assumption. Doesn’t want to make it weird. 

It’s a little weird despite his best efforts. It takes a lot of energy to look back at the water when Evan is right fucking there. 

Connor crosses his arms across his middle. The air is pretty cool out here. He’s kinda cold. He should have grabbed a hoodie before they left, but Connor hadn’t been thinking. Thank god it’s cold out or Evan might look at him a little too closely. Connor keeps his arms firmly around himself, trying not to shiver.

Plus his stomach hurts. Thanks Brian. 

“You cold?” Evan asks. He has, sensibly, worn a hoodie out. 

Connor shrugs. 

“Here,” Evan says. He shrugs off his own hoodie and holds it out to Connor. 

“No, I -”

“Take it,” Evan says and Connor reacts immediately. He takes the hoodie. Pulls it on. It’s baggy on him but it smells good. Like fabric softener and like a musky deodorant and… Evan. It smells like Evan (Connor doesn’t have a good enough nose to try to figure out what smells make up the smell that is Evan, but he knows it belongs to him, he’s caught it every time he’s managed to sit close to Evan). It takes everything in Connor not to bury his nose in the fabric. 

God he’s creepy. 

Connor wraps his arms around himself again, feeling a lot warmer. (It has way more to do with who the hoodie belongs to than the hoodie itself.)

He doesn’t mean to say the next thing he says. 

The words just kind of happen accidentally. 

“So do you have a thing for my sister?” Connor asks. 

He regrets the words immediately. Wants to take them back. Why did he ask why did he ask that what the fuck is wrong with him?

Evan coughs awkwardly. “I uh. I mean. She’s nice.” It falls a bit flat after her display back at their house. “I mean…” He says, trailing off. He rubs the back of his neck. “I…”

“Forget it, you don’t have to answer that, I’m being weird, ignore me,” Connor says quickly, hoping to just push through this. 

“I mean. It’s not like. I mean…” Evan looks at Connor, something pleading in his eyes. “Where I’m from there aren’t… people don’t like. Look at me?” 

Connor feels a sudden lump rise in his throat. He nods, even as the feeling sticks in his chest, makes it hard to swallow. 

He gets it. 

Zoe looks at Evan. She looks and doesn’t flinch or look away. 

Connor understands. It was the first thing that drew him to M. Miguel… he looked. Maybe he doesn’t…  _ didn’t  _ exactly see Connor. But he looked. And it felt like something precious. It felt important and sacred and worth everything. Worth everything to protect. 

Until M stopped looking. 

Connor swallows hard. Looks at Evan. The way he knows he shouldn’t the way he knows is abnormal and will freak Evan out. But just for a second he looks. 

And Connor wonders what would happen if he told Evan he was looking. 

He assumes he’ll get his ass kicked. He doesn’t know Evan well. It’s new and precarious and began on shaky ground so Connor hasn’t exactly been waving a rainbow flag in Evan’s face. 

And if he told Evan. If Evan knew. Connor feels his stomach flip. 

If Evan knew this might all be ruined. 

A moment passes. Or maybe many moments, all colliding and smudging together, and Connor has to take a moment to decide if he’s still baked or maybe just a little too tired to be clear headed. He decides it’s the latter. (He always liked those words: latter and former. Thought they made him sound smart until Miguel started making fun of him for talking  _ like an entitled asshole _ .)

Time passes. Connor’s not sure how much. It’s quiet but not still. He can hear the waves as they lap upon the shore, feel the breeze in his hair, catch the sound of Evan’s soft and even breathing. 

Evan’s stomach growls. 

Connor’s surprised. They’re sitting so close for a moment he thought it might have been him. He’s still not totally sure. “You okay there?” He asks with a slight laugh. 

“I didn’t have dinner,” Evan says, sounding like he’s only just noticed. He frowns a little. “Fuck, it’s nearly midnight, I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

Oh. Yeah. Right. That’s… that is considered weird. 

Right. 

Shit. 

“Me either,” he says, trying to present a sort of united front, trying not to make Evan feel exposed or strange about the confession. 

Connor does not mention that he threw his breakfast up. Seems like that might… upset Evan or something. He doesn’t know. 

“Come on,” Evan says. “There’s food in the house. Let’s head in for a bit, yeah?”

Connor considers for a moment. Then he nods. He could probably eat something. He’s eaten in front of Evan before. They sit together at lunch. It won’t be weird if Connor eats. 

Evan holds his hand out and it takes Connor a moment to realize he’s offering Connor help up. Right. People do that. He grasps Evan’s hand. It feels warm in his. Evan practically hauls Connor to his feet and Connor immediately feel awful because damn now Evan knows how fucking heavy and huge Connor is. Evan’s looking at their hands and Connor feels self conscious about his weird spidery fingers and his painted nails. 

Evan doesn’t let go of Connor’s hand for a moment and Connor has to resist the urge to yank his hand back, to hide it, because what if Evan’s disgusted now that he’s seen it up close, what if he’s thinking Connor’s so grotesquely big. What if he’s thinking that Connor’s nails make him gross, what if he’s thinking that’s way too much faggotry to be dealing with in his life, what if he’s still holding on so he can keep Connor close and deck him-? 

Evan lets go of Connor’s hand. Then he smiles at Connor. The big kind, like the way he was looking out into the water and smiling and Connor feels his stomach twist funnily at the sight. Connor can still sort of feel the warmth of Evan’s hand in his. Evan nods toward the house and Connor follows, trying to slow his galloping heart, trying really hard to not do something embarrassing like get a boner over a smile and a half second of handholding. 

Jesus he would. He’s such a fucking freak. 

Evan unlocks the door and lets them inside. Switches the lights on. Turns to shut the door. It’s a lot warmer inside. 

Connor follows Evan into the kitchen. It’s so weird being here without Heidi or David. Connor feels a little like he’s trespassing. 

In all of these dark clothes, he probably looks like a burglar. Fuck. 

“I could make an omelette,“ Evan says, peering into the well stocked fridge. “We have, like, spinach and tomatoes and cheese? I could do that?” Evan turns to look at Connor. 

Fuck. 

He can’t eat that. 

Cheese? Multiple vegetables? 

No, that's too much. His stomach turns at the thought he absolutely can’t eat that he couldn’t stomach French Toast this morning he certainly can’t eat something as intense as a full on omelette. Fuck. Fuck fuck Evan’s looking at him fuck he probably looks grossed out and he’s awful he’s the worst because Evan’s face falls and Connor did that he ruined his smile he ruined it he ruins everything. 

“Or I could just do plain scrambled eggs and toast?” Evan offers. 

Connor manages a smile. He could probably do that. If he didn’t put butter on the toast maybe. “That could be good,” he replies cautiously. He feels his face twist and then realizes he has the perfect fucking excuse: Brian Harris. “I, uh, my stomach kind of hurts. After Brian punched me.”

Evan immediately looks pissed. His eyes narrow and his posture stiffens and he looks so angry and Jesus he looks good like that what is the matter with Connor he needs to stop having such creepy thoughts about Evan.“That guy is such a fucking asshole,” Evan says in a low voice. “Fuck. I should have bashed his face in, he fucking deserved it.”

Connor shakes his head vigorously. “I’m glad you didn’t,” he says, trying to make it clear that he means it. “He’s not worth the trouble.”

“But you are,” Evan says. So easily. Like he didn’t have to think about it. Connor feels like he’s on fire, like there’s flames engulfing his entire body. Evan’s cheeks go pink. Flushed. He could be angry or maybe… maybe embarrassed. “I’m so fucking sorry he hurt you, I should have stopped it, I-”

“He’s not worth you getting into trouble,” Connor interrupts, trying to double down on how serious he is. Evan is too important and in too precarious a position to be getting into it with people like fucking Brian. And Connor… Connor needs Evan to stick around. He needs that silver lining. Brian Harris can punch him daily if that’s what it takes. He’s not worth Evan risking everything for. “He’s not. I want you to stick around, okay? So I appreciate that you didn’t bash his face in.”

Evan looks at him. He’s frowning. He looks… worried. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Evan asks. 

God, Connor hates that question because. No. He’s not okay. He’s never okay. But that is so fucking far beyond Brian Harris and his idiot sister and her stupid ass party. “I’m okay.”

Evan’s face suddenly changes. He is looking at the clock. He almost smiles. “I left your birthday present here,” he realizes. “It’s in my room.”

Connor’s heart feels like a yo-yo someone is playing with, doing tricks. Evan got him a present? An actual present? He… Connor can’t remember the last time a friend got him a birthday gift. He can’t remember back to even, like, really having friends. Evan got him a gift? He wasn’t expecting that, he didn’t ask, he… he feels this insane rush of affection for this kid he barely knows this kid who has only been in his life a few weeks who has already been kinder and more thoughtful and generous than all of Connor’s acquaintances combined. “You got me a present?”

“It’s your birthday,” Evan says, sounding a little… embarrassed. He looks back at the clock. “For another ten minutes. Of course I got you a present. Let me just go get it.”

Evan got him a present. Connor literally doesn’t care what it even  _ is  _ he’s just so fucking happy. Evan got him a present. A present. He’s staring wide eyed at the black gift bag that Evan sets in front of him. “You didn’t have to get me a present.” It’s not the right thing to say but he doesn’t know what is. 

“It’s your birthday,” Evan says, like it’s nothing. “It’s not, like, a huge thing? I just… I don’t know, I thought you’d like it. If you hate it, t-then I’ll take it back or whatever it’s not a big deal…”

Connor can’t stand the way Evan’s started talking, all worried and insecure, so he decides to cut through the tension by just opening the damn thing. He reaches into the bag and pulls out a black belt with silver studs. It’s…perfect. It’s something Connor loves immediately because it makes sense. It’s for him. Not a gift for the person someone wants him to be. It’s not an insult tied in a bow. It’s like the concert tickets from his dad. Unexpected and wonderful and Connor feels like… like he matters. “I love it,” he says softly. It doesn’t adequately express what he means but it’s all he’s got. 

“It’s not much,” Evan says, his cheeks coloring. “I just… I don’t know, I figured it was your style and I thought it would be useful and that you probably wanted something useful instead of something that was just, like, stuff and I’ve never bought a gift for someone before so I hope I did okay.”

Connor looks at him. Really looks at him. He’s never bought a gift for someone before and Connor is the person he bought one for. He bought one for  _ Connor.  _ “You’ve never bought someone a gift before?”

“No,” Evan says, and his cheeks are so pink and Connor has to fight down the impulse to just. Hug him. Hold on tight so he can make sure Evan never goes away. “My, uh… I was little when my mom died, and I didn’t really… I was young in foster care, too, and my dad isn’t exactly, like… Christmas or birthdays aren’t really a thing for him so… no?”

Connor’s heart squeezes painfully at that. Fuck. He didn’t know that. He didn’t even know about Evan’s mom being dead. He’s never asked because he didn’t know if it was okay to bring up. His heart kind of hurts. Because Evan bought his first ever gift for someone and he gave it to Connor.

A thought occurs to him. It’s not just Connor’s birthday today. “You got Zoe something, though, right?”

Evan nods. “Yeah. But Heidi had to help me pick it out because I d-didn’t really know what to get, I don’t really know what she’d like, but I… I picked this myself.” He shrugs. Looks at his shoes. Connor wants to hug him even more. Wants to launch himself at this kid and cling to him for the rest of eternity. “That’s so weird and lame I know I’m sorry it’s weird I made it weird-”

“Thank you,” Connor interrupts because he can’t let Evan think that way. He just can’t. He’s so happy it’s gonna explode out of him. Fuck. He’s grinning like a moron. He can’t like. Give himself away or make this weird because he’s being weird. He tries to save it. “Seriously man, this is awesome. Thank you.”

* * *

Zoe’s so fucking pissed off it’s not even funny. 

Why does Connor have to just  _ ruin everything?  _

“Babe calm down,” Brian drawls and snakes a beefy arm around her waist. “He left yeah? And he took that weirdo new guy with him.” 

Zoe feels something inside her snap. “Don’t call me babe. You literally hooked up with Samantha earlier tonight.” She pushes away from Brian, feeling like she might cry which is  _ not  _ cute. 

Fuck. 

She heads back inside where someone (probably her asshole brother) has turned on all of the lights. It’s crowded still though and there are people everywhere, and the floor is soaked, and fuck it’s a mess in here. Fuck. She… Fuck. 

Connor was right. Her parents are totally going to freak. 

But, no point worrying about that now. 

Zoe heads to her parents’ overstocked liquor cabinet and finds a bottle of vodka. She unscrews the cap and takes a long drink. 

“Hey,” she hears behind her. Sabrina is standing there, a t-shirt over her bathing suit now. “Are you okay?”

Zoe blinks back tears. “Evan left,” she chokes out. She’s not even sure why that’s the thing she’s focused on but it is. “He left with my fucking  _ asshole _ brother.” She’s just so upset, generally, and this is somehow the first thing that floated to the top of her mind. Evan left. With Connor. After Connor embarrassed her. Fuck him. He’s not supposed to… he’s not supposed to like Connor, he’s supposed to be into Zoe and he can’t be both. 

Sabrina looks conflicted. “Things are a little crazy,” she says in this quiet, almost meek voice. “Connor’s probably just worried you’ll get into trouble.”

“Fuck, you too?” Zoe shouts, crying for real now. She feels the betrayal acutely. Fucking everyone is taking Connor’s side. That’s so unfair. It’s unfair. “I just wanted to have a good time.”

“I know sweetie,” Sabrina says quietly. “But like. People brought  _ coke _ and…”

“Oh good,” Zoe snaps. “Who? I could fucking use some.”

“Zoe,” Sabrina says, her eyes huge. “Is that a good idea?”

“Fuck it right? It’s my fucking birthday and my brother stole my date.” She heads out of the kitchen, still clutching her vodka bottle. She takes another pull from the bottle. The vodka burns Zoe’s throat on the way down, making her eyes water. 

“Did you actually ask Evan to be your date?” Sabrina asks, following her. “Because like Brian was all over you earlier…”

Zoe rounds on her. “If you’re gonna be such a fucking priss about this then you can leave.”

Sabrina’s jaw swings open. “I can’t actually,” she snaps. “Because fucking Madison’s my ride and nobody’s seen her.”

“Whatever just. Stay away from me.”

Zoe storms up the stairs, leaving Sabrina behind. She finds Madison in her parents’ bedroom giving Jared Kleinman a fucking handjob. Which. Ew. 

She doesn’t care that she’s interrupting. She marches up to them. 

“Murph!” Madison exclaims, looking embarrassed and shoving Jared away like she’s never seen him before. “This isn’t what it - I didn’t even- ew what the hell Jared?”

He’s pulling his jeans up quickly, not even looking embarrassed that Zoe’s just seen his dick. “What’s up, Baby Quitter?” He says, sounding bored. 

Zoe cuts through the shit. “Jared, what have you got on you?” She demands. 

“Blue fucking balls thanks to you,” he mutters. 

Zoe crosses her arms over her chest. Stares him down.

“Fine, whatever, birthday girl,” Jared says. He looks almost scared. “I’m pretty cleaned out but I’ve got some Oxy left.”

“Awesome,” Zoe says. “Give me some.”

“Hey this shit ain’t free,” Jared says, eyes narrowed. 

“Madison’s gonna take care of that for me,” she spits. 

Madison’s eyes go huge and she looks super embarrassed. Good. 

“Fine, call it a birthday gift,” Jared says. He presses a small baggie with a few pills in it into her hand. “Now fuck off.”

“Fuck you too,” Zoe says, taking the drugs and sweeping from the room. 

Madison doesn’t follow. 

Slut. 

Zoe heads into her bedroom, which she’s glad she thought ahead to lock before the party. She uses a bobby pin to unlock the door and heads inside. 

She swallows two pills with a swig of vodka and heads toward her closet. 

She strips off her damp swimsuit and looks around for the clothes she was wearing before. She finds them and pulls on her underwear. Then her skirt. She’s tying up the back of her halter top when she suddenly remembers showing Sabrina her tits early. Seeing Sabrina basically naked. 

Kissing her earlier. 

Zoe’s kissed a lot of boys but no girls before. 

Sabrina’s a good kisser. Her lips were so soft and her mouth… tasted good. And she’d put her hands in Zoe’s hair and…

Fuck, what a fucking gay thing to do. That’s kinda gross. It was just… for the guys. It was supposed to be for the guys. 

So why did Zoe want to do it again? 

Like really fucking wants to do it again.

Fuck what the fuck that’s so weird that’s so gross she can’t kiss Sabrina again. 

Fuck. 

Like she can’t do that again obviously. 

When Brian kissed her earlier… Zoe had been thinking about how Sabrina was a much better kisser. Which. Fuck no that’s so weird that’s wrong. 

Her bedroom door opens. It’s Sabrina. Zoe opens her mouth to yell at her to get the fuck out, but Sabrina’s eyes are big and scared and her voice is wavering when she says, “Uh, there’s some blonde lady downstairs threatening to call the cops?”   


“Shit,” Zoe says, hurrying out of the room. She nearly wipes out on the wet floor as she heads back out to the backyard to find Heidi Herzberg shouting at everyone in attendance while people scatter and run. 

“Don’t you dare get behind the wheel of a car, Griffin! I saw you doing a keg stand and you are in no shape to drive,” Heidi is yelling. Someone has cut the music and all of the lights. “I saw you, Brian Harris, I will call your parents -”

She whips around to continue shouting and sees Zoe. Heidi’s face is stricken with concern. “Zoe! Are you alright? What is going on?” Her eyes are darting around. “Where’s Evan?”

“He left,” Zoe says, trying to sound sober, trying to appear together, but there’s a lot of vodka sloshing around her system and two pills she just took and Heidi’s face is swimming in front of her. “Connor… stole him, ‘s not fair.”

Heidi’s hands rest on her shoulders. “Zoe, sweetheart, what are you… They’re not here?” 

Zoe shakes her head. “Nope,” She says. She doesn’t feel great, suddenly. She feels sort of dizzy. 

“Where are they?”

Zoe shrugs. She has no idea. Not here. Gone. Good riddance. She was going to try to have sex with Evan and now he’s run off with her fucking ruiner of a brother and Sabrina is looking at her and Zoe needs everything to stop. It’s all going way too fast and things just need to slow down immediately. Like, right now. 

Heidi’s doing something now. Zoe’s not really sure what. She’s thinking very hard about not throwing up which seems very likely. It’s not fair, she was absolutely fine a second ago. And why’s Heidi crashing her party? That’s not fair. Not fair at all. She didn’t invite her it’s her birthday people keep trying to ruin her birthday it’s not fair. 

“Yeah… I’m glad you’re safe,” Heidi’s voice floats toward Zoe. Sabrina’s there, she can smell her strawberry lip gloss, and she’s trying to hand Zoe something but she can’t grasp what it is. “Have you heard from - Oh, okay good. I’m glad. Yeah, good, you’re on your way back -?”

Zoe doesn’t hear the rest. The world spins around her too fast, too suddenly, and then Sabrina’s pulling her hair away from her face as she throws up into a trash can. When did a trash can even get there? Her knees are knocking together and everything’s spinning and it’s too quiet and then her dad’s voice cuts across everything. 

“What the  _ hell  _ is going on here?”

* * *

When Heidi pulls up to the bottom of the shared driveway to the Murphys’ house, her heart plummets to her stomach and her chest tightens with fear. There’s loud music and laughter and yelling and teenagers everywhere. Giggling coming from the bushes. Someone’s throwing up underneath her mailbox. 

Fucking hell. 

This is… bad, this is really fucking bad, who knows what the fuck is going on in there. 

And Evan’s there. 

Evan’s at this party, Evan’s at this party and he’s still on probation, Child Services are still breathing down their necks, watching his every move, and if anything happens, they’ll take him away, they’ll take him away from her and she’ll never see him again. 

Heidi can’t let that happen. 

This stops now. 

This party stops  _ now. _

She drives up to the Murphy house, tooting her horn to get idiot drunk teenagers in the driveway out of her way. Once she’s at the house, she gets out of the car and takes in the carnage. 

It is absolute, complete carnage. The place is completely trashed, and no one seems to give a shit about it. There are kids everywhere, drinking and laughing and throwing shit and the whole place is wet, somehow, like the whole damn pool has exploded. 

Damn it.  _ Damn  _ it. 

How the hell did Zoe let this happen? She was supposed to be the one Heidi could trust, damn it.  _ Damn  _ it. 

“Okay, party’s over!” she yells at the teenagers. None of them pay a lick of attention to her, so she opens the front door of her car and leans on the horn until they do. 

“Lighten up,” mumbles some kid, before puking in an ornate terracotta vase by the front door. 

“Don’t you tell me to lighten up!” Heidi yells. “Get the hell out of here before I call the cops! The party’s over, get your stuff and get gone!”

When it looks like they’re just going to keep ignoring her, she leans on the horn again. Finally, some of the idiot kids start wandering down the driveway.

There are so many kids she recognizes. So damn many. Kids whose parents she knows, who she remembers from when they were toddlers in too-fancy clothes at stupid uptight goyish Christmas parties, kids who are way too fucking young to be drinking. 

Zoe’s sixteen today. What the hell was she thinking?

Heidi remembers suddenly she’s got a whistle in her glovebox, thanks to David going through a paranoid security phase when they both ended up on completely different schedules for a few months. She manages to dig it out, along with a flashlight, then locks her car and heads through to the backyard, which is the source of most of the noise. 

She blows the whistle as hard as she can, brandishes the flashlight and starts dealing with this the best she can. 

“Party’s over! Get the hell out of here!” Heidi spots another kid she knows as she heads further into the chaos. “Melissa Edmonds, I see you in those bushes, put your bra back on and go home.”

There’s laughter and the sound of breaking glass. Near the door, someone’s doing a kegstand, and it takes her a moment to recognize him as Darryl Clearwater’s kid, who Darryl wouldn’t shut the fuck up about how smart he is. Heidi goes over to the stupidly expensive sound system and cuts the music, then blows her whistle again until people start looking at her. 

“I’m not kidding around here!” she yells as loud as she can, seeing more and more faces she recognizes. “Tristan Wickford-Hughes, get the hell down from that tree. Kelly Davis, I  _ will  _ be calling your mother.” A kid runs right past her and she feels like just punching the wall. “Christopher Stevens! Nobody wants to see your penis! Put your pants on and get the hell out of here!”

Heidi keeps blowing her whistle and the crowd starts to disperse. Some kids are just laughing at her, some look genuinely terrified, but honestly she doesn’t really give a crap about anything but finding Evan. She keeps looking around, frantically searching for a head of dark blond hair, trying desperately to keep it together because this is out of control, completely out of control. Evan could be hurt, he could be drunk and high, he could be in trouble, he could have gotten into another fight, got another concussion and it’s a pool party and there’s water everywhere and he said he doesn’t swim which Heidi suspects means that he can’t oh  _ god. _

She’s suddenly gripped with the terrifying thought that he might be facedown in the pool right now. 

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck. 

She makes her way through the crowd, who are all starting to properly bail now, trying to get to the pool. There’s a moment of relief when she sees that it’s empty, but that doesn’t last long because she doesn’t know where Evan is, she can’t find him, where is he where is he where is he?

Griffin Clearwater is spinning keys on his fingers. “Don’t you dare get behind the wheel of a car, Griffin!” she yells at him. “I saw you doing a keg stand and you are in no shape to drive.” 

Tony’s Harris’s meathead son has a bottle of vodka and his arm around Eileen Fitzpatrick’s idiot niece. Just seconds ago, he was peeing into a rose bush. “I saw you, Brian Harris!” Heidi calls out. “I will call your parents!”

She turns around to keep looking for Evan and spots Zoe Murphy, accompanied by Lisa Patel’s daughter whose name Heidi can’t remember for the life of her right now. Zoe’s eyes are unfocused and she’s unsteady on her feet. 

“Zoe!” she calls out. “Are you alright? What is going on?” Heidi keeps frantically looking around, hoping she’ll spot Evan. “Where’s Evan?”

“He left,” says Zoe, and up close Heidi can see that she’s clearly drunk or high or possibly both. She’s slurring her words and she can barely stand up right. “Connor… stole him, ‘s not fair.”

Heidi puts her arms out to steady Zoe, grabbing her shoulders. “Zoe, sweetheart, what are you…” What she’s saying finally sinks in. “They’re not here?”

Zoe shakes her head. “Nope.”

“Where are they?” Heidi demands. 

Zoe just shrugs. Lisa Patel’s daughter puts her arm around Zoe to steady her. Almost immediately, Zoe’s legs buckle, like she’s going to pass out, and Heidi helps the Patel girl get Zoe to the one sofa that hasn’t been turned over or completely drenched in pool water or booze or god knows what else. 

Once Zoe’s on the sofa, Heidi pulls out her phone and calls Evan’s number. 

Evan answers almost immediately. 

“Are you okay?” Heidi demands before Evan’s even got a chance to speak. “Are you okay, where are you, what happened?”

“We’re at the beach house,” Evan says. “Me and Connor. He tried to break it up, I swear.”

“You could have called me,” Heidi says immediately, a little hurt that he wouldn’t, that Evan didn’t trust her enough to do that. 

“You were working,” Evan says, his voice small. “I… I didn’t want to bother you, I’ve already taken up too much of your time.”

Heidi feels like bursting into tears, all of a sudden. 

She wants to tell him that he’s never a bother, that when things like this happen she wants to hear from him, wants to help, wants to keep him safe and protect him and…

_ “I appreciate how much you care, but you’re not my mom.” _

“You can call me if you need me,” Heidi manages to choke out. “Anytime. Okay? I don’t care how busy I am, I…”

“I’m sorry,” Evan says, sounding chastised, like she’s yelled at him. “I just… Connor tried, he really did, but Zoe yelled at him for ruining the party and it just…”

Evan trails off. 

Heidi looks at Zoe, who’s pale and a little sweaty and Lisa Patel’s kid whose name might be Serena looks genuinely freaked out. “Yeah,” Heidi says, trying not to let her irritation at the youngest Murphy show. She knows it’s stupid, knows it’s a reaction she doesn’t really get to have, but she’s bitterly disappointed in Zoe right now. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

“We’re safe,” Evan assures her.

“Have you heard from-”

“Connor just got off the phone with his dad,” Evan interrupts. “H-he tried to call a bunch of times but his dad had his phone off, they’re heading to the house now. He wants Connor to come home, so…”

“Oh, okay good,” Heidi says, feeling all of a sudden completely overwhelmed by the whole situation. “I’m glad. Yeah, good, you’re on your way back to the house?”

“We’re gonna leave now,” Evan says. He pauses for a moment. “I’m guessing you’re there?”

“I’m here,” Heidi says immediately. “Meet me back at the Murphys?”

“Okay,” says Evan. 

“Tell Connor to drive safe,” Heidi says in a hurry. A thought occurs to her, sending a cold panic through her body. “He hasn’t been drinking, has he?”

“No,” Evan says. “He wasn’t even at the party, he was in his room.”

“Okay,” Heidi says. “Be safe. I’ll see you soon.”

The end of the phone call is punctuated by Zoe throwing up into a trash can. 

Shit. 

“I’ll get her some water,” she tells maybe-Serena and heads to the kitchen to try to find a glass that hasn’t been destroyed. Heidi manages to find one after a while, then goes through the fridge to find the jug of water the Murphys always keep in there and takes a glass and the jug back to the living room. 

She pours a glass and hands it to Zoe, who drinks it dutifully. The Patel girl is patting Zoe’s back, smoothing back her hair, telling her that everything’s going to be okay, that she’s going to be fine, and Heidi fights down a wave of irritation at the both of them. 

They’re idiot sixteen-year-olds who wanted to throw a party and were completely irresponsible. They deserve to be given hell for this. 

But Heidi doesn’t have high hopes for any kind of consequences. Not really. That’s the thing with these rich kids - they get away with everything. 

They get away with everything, and Evan’s the one on probation. 

Evan’s the one who could have been taken away from her. Could still be taken away from her. 

She’s on edge as they make Zoe keep drinking water, hoping to sober her up, and doesn’t really relax until she sees Evan and Connor arrive. Connor’s looking around the house in dismay and Evan’s frowning, his eyes taking in everything quietly, his shoulders hunched. 

Heidi can’t help it. She gets up off the sofa, walks over to Evan and pulls him into a tight hug. Holds him close to her and doesn’t let go for longer than is probably necessary. 

“Thank god you’re alright,” she says in a rush. “I was so worried about you.”

Evan looks a little taken aback when she finally brings herself to pull away. A little nervous, a little uncomfortable and a little surprised, like he’s just not used to being touched. He tries to smile but it really doesn’t work. 

Heidi catches a look at Connor, who’s watching Evan intently, this sad expression on his face that grabs at her chest, takes her by surprise. 

Then she spots the Murphy parents coming through the door. Larry looks furious.

“What the  _ hell  _ is going on here?” he says, looking directly at Zoe. 

Not at Connor. At Zoe. 

Heidi feels a little relieved at that. She still doesn’t know exactly what happened, but given the fact that Connor’s clearly sober and Zoe’s clearly not, that Zoe’s the one who was actually at the house when it got to this state and Connor left, got Evan away from it, kept him safe…

But then Cynthia’s swooping past, and she smells like a winery, and she sits next to Zoe and pulls her into a hug and starts fussing over her, like she’s a toddler who fell over in the playground, and Heidi feels her shoulders tense, feels this wave of irritation flow over her. 

Cynthia looks up. Looks straight at Connor, her expression thunderous.

“How could you let this happen?”

* * *

Evan makes them scrambled eggs and toast, and when the food is set in front of them, Connor realizes he’s… ravenous. He’s so hungry. It takes a lot of self control not to just dive right in, say fuck table manners, and start shoveling food into his face with his bare hands. 

He gets like this sometimes. Weeks of feeling ill, of struggling to swallow, and then out of nowhere he’s a bottomless pit. 

Also, Evan can actually cook. 

Not that scrambled eggs and toast is, like, a gourmet meal but whenever Connor has attempted to make eggs (he and Zoe had a weird phase as kids where they really just wanted to give their parents breakfast in bed), they always ended up either too brown or, worse, too pale and mushy. (Connor assumes it is a sign that he is just that much of a fuck up since he could fuck up something as simple as scrambled eggs, because he was so fucking spoiled, because his parents had a maid and a chef and a gardener and some people have real problems.)

But the eggs are good and Connor actually manages to eat them. He even chances the smallest smear of butter on his toast. 

Evan seems thrilled. Maybe he likes feeding people. 

Connor’s still wrapping his mind around the idea that Evan likes him. 

Not like… 

Like obviously not like. 

As a friend. Connor’s wrapping his head around Evan liking him as a friend. He won’t even dare to hope that Even might see him any other way. He’s straight, for one, and likes Zoe, for another. 

That fact just… 

It makes it feel like he can’t quite breathe right. Like someone has stood on his ribcage, compressing his diaphragm. 

Connor’s jealous and he knows that’s gross so he tries to push it out of his mind. Instead he focuses on talking to Evan about whether or not they like Ernest Hemingway. Focuses on the feeling of the belt Evan got him as it sits snugly around Connor’s hips. He’d put it on immediately in the hopes of demonstrating just how much he likes it. Focuses on the fact that he… has a friend. 

Connor has a friend. 

That’s something. That’s really fucking something. 

Evan just seems to, like, kind of like Connor. Not like - _just_ as a friend. He likes Connor and they’re friends and they talk and Evan got Connor a birthday present. 

“When’s your birthday?” Connor asks him as they’re finishing up their food. “By the way.”

Evan’s lips twitch up into a sad looking smile. “April.”

Connor nods. Commits that to memory. April. 

April’s a good month. Obviously. 

Connor’s dad finally calls him back a little after one o’clock. “What happened?” His dad asks him, his voice urgent. 

Connor relates the (mostly uneventful) story. He fell asleep, woke up in the middle of a rager, tried to talk to Zoe and got punched, and left. 

“Damn it,” His dad mutters into the phone. “Meet me back at the house okay? We’ll sort it out.”

“Okay,” Connor says, almost disbelieving. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t pick up,” His dad says softly. “My phone was switched off… Thank you for calling, Connor.”

Connor’s not sure he’s ever heard that one before. 

Connor looks at Evan, sort of hating that this means he needs to leave. But Evan’s own phone rings and Connor hears a brief, one sided conversation. 

He looks at Connor. “We should get going,” Evan says softly. “Heidi’s there now.”

Connor’s heart drops. Fuck. She’s gonna blame him, she’s gonna blame him for sure. 

“This isn’t your fault,” Evan says fiercely. “And it’s going to be okay.” 

Connor wants to believe him. 

Evan is wrong. When he and Connor head inside of the house, all of the lights are on. There’s stuff strewn everywhere and somehow one of the sofas in the living room has been slipped over. Evan nearly steps on what looks like a used condom as they head into the living room where Heidi is giving Zoe glasses of water while Sabrina Patel talks to her quietly. 

Fuck. 

Zoe glares at Connor as he approaches. He doesn’t dare to approach closer to his sister. She hates him. She announced to everyone they know. 

Heidi leaves Zoe’s side and sweeps Evan into a hug, saying just loud enough for Connor to hear that she was “so worried” about Evan. Good, Connor thinks. Evan deserves to have someone who gives a shit about him like Heidi does. It’s good that someone is looking out for Evan. It’s really fucking good. Evan looks a bit weirded out about the hug and that makes Connor’s heart ache. Fuck. Evan’s dad’s an asshole, his mom’s dead, and he’s not used to adults caring about him. That’s so unfair. 

“What the  _ hell  _ is going on here?” Connor looks up to see his parents coming through the front door. Connor feels that stupid, kid-like rush of reassurance because his dad is here so everything is gonna be okay now. 

It doesn’t last of course. 

Because his mom is here too. And judging by the unsteady way she’s walking, she got into the liquor before they came home. She rushes to Zoe’s side, fussing over her, and Zoe’s in tears and she just threw up into the trash. “Oh baby, are you alright?”

Zoe hiccups pathetically and cries harder. 

His dad is assessing the damage around the house and muttering to himself. He looks pretty pissed. Pretty much everyone has cleared out now, so it’s just the ragtag group assembled in the kitchen. Connor thinks he hears his dad mumble something about a “god damn water park.” Nobody else seems to catch it.

Connor and Zoe’s mom looks up over Zoe’s head, tucking into their mom’s shoulder as she cries, and addresses Connor. “How could you let this happen?” She demands. 

Connor blinks. Fuck. He doesn’t have an answer, he’s been wracking his brain for one all night and he has nothing. He fucked up. He knows he fucked up. “I…. I’m so sorry, I-I fell asleep and I didn’t realize-“

“You fell  _ asleep _ ?” His mom repeats, her tone sharp. She doesn’t believe him. Her face is hard and furious. Connor feels himself trying to shrink, wrapping his arms around his middle, trying to disappear into the floor. “The house is in shambles. There’s a keg outside. You genuinely expect me to buy that you have nothing to do with this?”

“I….” Connor’s voice dies. It’s his fault. It’s so obviously his fault. “I’m sorry. I called. I tried to...”

“Cynthia, come on, Connor’s the one who called us,” his dad says reasonably. “Clearly he was trying to do the right thing.” Connor can’t really believe that his dad is the one defending him right now but he’s not going to complain. 

“Completely irresponsible, Connor,” his mom is carrying on, not listening to his dad at all. “The house is a wreck. Someone peed in my rose bushes and there was a naked boy running across the yard when we got home. And, you got your sister drunk!”

“No, she did that all on her own,” Connor mutters darkly. 

She’s not listening to him. It’s like she can’t even hear him. She just keeps getting louder, more heated. “I told you, Larry. I told you it was a mistake to bring him back home,” his mom practically shouts. “Look at what’s happened.”

“Cynthia-”

Connor’s heart drops to his stomach. Then to his knees. He’s fairly sure he’s going to be sick. He didn’t do this. For once Connor knows he didn’t actually do anything. They’re going to kick him out, they’re going to send him away again, they’re going to ship him off and he’s going to lose everything. “I didn’t…” Connor tries, and his throat feels too tight, his stomach twists painfully. “This wasn’t me, you have to believe me, I tried to break it up.”

“After everything last year, Connor!” His mom cries. “You want to put your sister in the hospital too?”

Connor feels his eyes start to sting. No. No god of course not,  _ of course not,  _ how can she think that about him he would never want that. His jaw is locked. He can’t bring himself to say a word. His teeth grit so hard he fears he might break a molar. He can’t speak. He can’t speak. 

“We’ve given you every  _ single  _ opportunity to straighten out and you just throw it all back in our faces,” his mom goes on. “Therapy and medicine and rehab…. boarding school. Do you hate us that much? You want to embarrass me that much? Why can’t you just be normal?”

“He didn’t- he d-didn’t do anything!” Evan protests suddenly, his eyes big, his tone harsh, and Connor shoots him a look, a please-be-quiet look because she’s right she’s right she’s right this is on him he knew about the party he should have called his parents when Zoe and her friends started making Jell-O shots he fucked up he knows he fucked up. 

His mom gets to her feet and comes and stands in Connor’s space, pointing a perfectly manicured nail in his face. She’s ignoring his dad’s protests and yelling at Connor more. “You’re irresponsible and stupid and you want to take the rest of this family down with you!” She shouts at Connor. He flinches but says nothing. “We raised you better than this, we gave you  _ everything  _ and this is how you repay us? You’re older. You’re supposed to look out for your sister!”

“I tried to - I tried to break it up but she told me to fuck off she told me….” Zoe told him that she hates him. She hates him. Zoe’s crying and Sabrina is rubbing her back and everyone is looking at Connor everyone is fucking looking at him and he feels hot all over and he didn’t do this he didn’t. He doesn’t know what to even say. He’d tried. “I tried -”

His mom’s hand crashes against his cheek hard, cutting Connor off. She’s wearing her wedding ring and her huge diamond engagement ring and they collide with his cheekbone painfully and Connor’s eyes immediately water and it looks like his mom is gearing up to hit him again and he deserves this he deserves this so Connor’s hands drop to his sides and he stays still waiting for the next blow, the next barb she’s going to toss at him. He deserves this he deserves this he deserves this.

“Cynthia, that’s enough,” his dad thunders, yanking her away from Connor. 

She’s hit him before. Not like a lot. A few times. When he was little he got spanked sometimes as a kid. His freshman year he mouthed off a few times when he was high and she slapped him like she did tonight. He realized at the time that she was only doing it because she was scared of him. She was scared of Connor. 

“Look what he’s  _ done,  _ Larry!”

“Enough!” He barks. His dad takes a shaky breath. “Go take Zoe upstairs,” he tells his mom in this low, shaking voice. “Put her to bed.  _ Now _ Cynthia.” 

Connor expects her to keep raging, keep yelling and hitting him because that’s what he deserves it’s what he deserves but she mutters that they’ll continue this conversation in the morning before escorting his sister and Sabrina up the stairs. Connor watches them go and all he can feel is dread, about what Zoe will tell their mom, about what happens next.

Connor feels like he’s a house about to collapse in on himself. His hands feel trembly and his knees feel weak. Evan's looking at him with these wide, horrified eyes and Heidi looks disgusted and they’re upset with him he did this he did this it’s his fault it’s all his fault. 

His dad puts a hand on Connor’s shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine don’t worry about me,” Connor says quietly, still looking at the angry faces around him and he can’t breathe his eyes are stinging and his throat is tight and he’s definitely going to cry he’s going to freak out and everyone is watching everyone is looking he can’t he can’t he can’t breathe. “Is… is Zoe okay? She’s not… is she okay?”

His dad’s voice is low and calm. “Your sister is fine. You should go wash your face,” he says gently. “Just take a minute okay? It’s okay. This isn’t your fault son, just… I’ll talk to her, I’ll talk to your mom, I’ll take care of it. Just go take a minute. Go to the bathroom, wash your face, it’s okay.”

Connor doesn’t need telling twice. He rushes to the downstairs bathroom. Locks himself in and immediately throws up in the toilet. It’s violent and hurts his throat and he throws up until it’s just bile, and everything is bitter and toxic just like him. He’s wheezing and shaking and crying just  _ crying  _ because his mom hates him she hates him she actually hates she blames him and she should she should he’s a monster he let this happen to his little sister what if she’d gotten hurt or some guy tried to take advantage and he just left what the fuck is wrong with him he’s supposed to watch out for her he’s supposed to take care of her and he fucked up he always fucks up everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "A Lack of Color" by Death Cab for Cutie. 
> 
> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! at the Disco


	14. I Won't Sleep If You Won't Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A late night dose of honesty

Evan watches as Connor practically runs out of the room to the bathroom. He can barely contain the urge to follow him, to run after him and make sure he’s okay. At the same time he’s horrified, terrified, frozen to the ground because Connor’s mom just hit him. 

And Connor just stood there, just took it like it was nothing. 

Like _he_ was nothing. Like he deserved it. 

“It wasn’t his fault,” Evan says, looking at Mr. Murphy a little desperately. “It wasn’t. He-he tried to break it up, he tried, Brian Harris p-punched him in the stomach and Z-Zoe screamed at him in front of everyone, screamed that she h-hated him and it’s n-not his fault it’s not I _swear_ it’s not-”

“I know it’s not,” Mr. Murphy interrupts, and he looks so sad. So defeated. He sinks down onto the sofa. Puts his head in his hands. 

Evan looks at Heidi. She looks absolutely disgusted. She shakes her head. Crosses her arms in front of her chest. 

“So she hits and screams at the kid who’s sober and calls for help but makes sure the kid who threw the party and is still drunk and high gets to bed okay,” Heidi says after a moment, and her voice is so angry and so bitter it makes something in Evan go cold. “A+ parenting, right there.”

Mr. Murphy sighs. “I’m sorry you had to see that-”

“No,” Heidi interrupts firmly. “Don’t give me that bullshit, Larry. Don’t be fucking sorry I had to see that, be sorry that it _happened_.”

Mr. Murphy flinches. Recoils like he’s the one who was slapped. 

Heidi looks at Evan, her eyes blazing. She blinks a few times, and Evan realizes with a jolt that she’s trying not to cry. 

Mr. Murphy doesn’t look at them. 

Heidi bites her lip. Frowns a little, then looks back at Mr. Murphy. “I think it’s best for everyone if Connor stays with us tonight,” she says, in this voice that clearly says she will not be argued with. 

Mr. Murphy nods. Looks almost relieved. “Yeah,” he says, his voice a little scratchy, and Evan thinks that maybe he’s trying not to cry, too. “It’ll give Cynthia a chance to cool down.”

“And a chance to sober up,” Heidi said, her voice frosty. She turns to Evan. “How about you go check on Connor, okay?”

Evan nods, relieved, then heads out the doorway Connor went through, through the trashed house and in the direction of where he assumes the downstairs bathroom must be, seeing that this house is basically laid out exactly like Heidi’s place. 

Fucking McMansions. The least these rich assholes could do is have unique houses. 

He knocks on the door tentatively. Tries the door handle, only to find it locked, which just makes him think he’s in the right place. 

“Connor? It’s Evan. Can I come in?”

There’s a long silence, then a click. The door opens the tiniest bit and Evan lets himself in. 

Connor’s leaning against the sink, staring at his reflection dully in the mirror. His eyes are red, his face is pale and he looks like he’s a million miles away, like he’s somewhere else, somewhere Evan can’t reach, and his heart genuinely aches at the sight of him. 

“It’s n-not fucking fair,” Evan says quietly, feeling his voice shake. “It wasn’t f-fucking f-fair of h-her to g-go after you like that, l-like you were the one who-who-who…”

He trails off as Connor doesn’t respond, feeling his cheeks burn, knowing that Connor doesn’t fucking need Evan’s fucking stutter right now. Knowing that nothing Evan can manage to choke out is going to make a difference anyway. 

Evan just stands there, helpless. Not knowing what to do. 

After a moment, he tentatively puts his hand on Connor’s shoulder. 

Connor’s trembling, his thin shoulders shaking, and Evan’s completely lost at how to help, what to say, and his heart hurts and it won’t stop pounding, he can’t get his voice to cooperate, he’s so fucking useless he’s not helping he can’t help and Connor deserves better he deserves better than Evan right now and it’s not fair that Evan’s all he’s got. 

Evan, and maybe Heidi, too. 

Maybe?

Evan doesn’t want to get his hopes up. Doesn’t want to bother her, to put any more on her, because she’s already taking on far more than she should with him. Already wasting her precious time on him, stuck working late in the weekends because she feels like she should spend time with him, feels like she has to keep an eye on him to stop him from ruining everything. 

But Heidi’s known Connor since he was a kid. 

And Heidi’s not the kind of person who stands on the sidelines and doesn’t act when someone needs help. 

Unless she’s known about this for a while, Evan realizes, something cold going through him. Unless Connor’s mom hits him all the time and Heidi’s known this whole time. 

That…

No. 

That’s not Heidi. That can’t be Heidi. 

Evan can’t…

He can’t fucking deal if that’s Heidi. He…

He shouldn’t be surprised, he realizes with a sickening feeling. He shouldn’t be surprised, he shouldn’t be disappointed, he should have fucking expected that, expected that this was too good to be true, Heidi was too good to be true…

_No,_ he tells the voice in his head that’s thinking the worst. 

Heidi wants to get Connor away from this tonight.

And she’d looked so fucking angry. 

She can’t have known. 

She just can’t have. 

“C-come on,” Evan manages to choke out. “L-let’s g-go.”

Connor looks at him slowly, his eyes dull, a little glazed over, like he’s just… disappeared inside himself. “Go where?” he asks after a long moment. 

“W-with me,” Evan says, hating how his stutter won’t go away, how he can’t sound fucking reassuring, can’t be fucking steady for someone who needs it right now. “With us,” he tries again, fighting to keep his words from getting away from him. “H-Heidi thinks y-you should st-stay with us tonight. Okay?”

Connor blinks a few times. “My dad?” he asks weakly. 

“He s-said it’s okay,” Evan says, trying to sound confident. “Come on.”

Connor stares at him for a moment, then nods wordlessly. Lets Evan guide him out of the bathroom, back through the house and into the living room where Heidi and Mr. Murphy aren’t talking to each other. Mr. Murphy stands up the minute he sees Connor. Moves toward him immediately, then kind of stops and hesitates. 

Evan puts his arm around Connor’s shoulder, pulling him a little closer, and he knows it’s fucking weird, it’s really fucking weird, but he feels like if he lets go, Connor’s not going to be able to keep himself up. 

He just seems so fucking defeated. 

It’s not fair, it’s not fucking fair. This wasn’t his fault. 

Heidi and Mr. Murphy exchange a few short, barely polite words, then Heidi stands on Connor’s other side and puts a tentative hand on his other shoulder. 

Connor flinches. 

“I got this,” Evan tells her quietly, and Heidi pulls her hand away. Nods. 

The three of them head through the house to where Heidi’s car is parked out front. Evan gets in the backseat with Connor. Makes sure he has his seatbelt on. 

Heidi looks at Evan in the rearview mirror. 

“Let’s go home,” she says, her voice heavy. 

Evan bites his lip. “Beach house,” he says quietly. 

Heidi stares for a moment, opens her mouth like she’s going to argue, then nods.

The further away they get from this house, the better, as far as Evan’s concerned. 

The drive is completely silent, but Evan feels better the closer they get to the water. When they arrive, he helps Connor out of the car. Connor blinks, stares at the water, then turns to Evan. 

“We’re back?” he asks tentatively. 

“Yeah,” Evan says, glad that for once, his voice isn’t shaking. “We’re back.”

Connor blinks again. Almost smiles. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

The beach house is technically a four bedroom, but it’s more like two huge bedrooms and two large-ish storage rooms. One of the smaller downstairs bedrooms is basically full of surfboards, whereas the second upstairs bedroom is full of books and a couch that Evan’s pretty sure is way too small for either he or Connor to successfully sleep on. 

So that basically means they’re going to have to share a room, share a bed. 

It’s a fucking huge bed, so it’s not like it’s going to be super weird or anything. Hopefully Connor won’t think it’s super weird.

Besides, Evan doesn’t want to let Connor out of his sight right now. 

That’s probably weird and creepy but… 

He just doesn’t think he can. 

Connor seems so fucking devastated, so completely crushed, worn down, defeated, and Evan hates it, he hates it so much, he just hates everything about it. 

He hates it, because he recognizes it. 

It’s how he felt every time his dad got drunk and used him as a punching bag. 

Has this happened before? Has Mrs. Murphy hit him before, tore him down like that before? Is Connor’s mom every bit as much of a monster as Mark, just wrapped in a fancier package?

Evan doesn’t know for sure. 

He hates it. 

He hates it so much. 

Heidi brings out a pair of pajama pants from the upstairs bedroom, explaining that they were David’s. They look long enough for Connor, and they have a drawstring, so they won’t fall off his skinny hips if he ties them well enough. Evan lends Connor a spare t-shirt from the clothes he keeps here and Connor goes into the bathroom to get changed. 

He’s gone for a while. Heidi looks at Evan, her expression so fucking sad. 

“I didn’t know,” she says suddenly. “That Cynthia would do that to him. I don’t know if she’s done it before, or….” Her shoulders sag. “I didn’t know.”

Something inside Evan unwinds. “I know you didn’t,” he says, and he believes every word. 

His voice doesn’t shake at all. 

Heidi wrings her hands. She looks genuinely distressed, so fucking upset about this that it makes something in Evan ache. “I… I should talk to him. See if this has been a pattern,” she says after a moment. “If she’s hurting him, I might need to call Child Services-”

“Maybe don’t,” Evan interrupts. Heidi’s face falls. He hates it immediately. “Or uh. L-let me talk to him?” he adds. He pauses. Tries to figure out how to explain. What to say to this nice rich lawyer lady who’s taken him in, who doesn’t really get any of this, even though she tries her hardest. 

The words spill out, hesitant and soft. “It’s… sometimes when… Like, it’s easy to lie?” he admits. “To an adult if they ask? It’s easier to-to, y’know, make up some dumb excuse.”

It was the wrong thing to say, he realizes immediately, because Heidi’s eyes go big and glassy and she’s staring at him with this expression of horror on her face. 

It’s deadly silent. Heidi doesn’t take her eyes off him. 

“Evan,” she says, her voice a little shaky. “Are you…?”

She doesn’t finish the sentence. Evan suddenly feels this lump in his throat and lets out this pathetic, weird noise that might be a sob he’s trying to fight down, he can’t really be sure. Heidi looks… fucking devastated. 

“It wasn’t, like, a lot?” he tries to explain. “B-but sometimes my dad… Or Ethan? They uh. Mark, he’s, you know, he’s dr-drunk a lot. Can’t always, like, stay out of his way well enough.”

“Evan,” Heidi says softly. Her eyes shine with unshed tears and Evan’s stomach churns, he hates it, he hates that he’s upset her, he hates it so much. “Oh god. I didn’t… I didn’t know.” 

Evan wants to interrupt her, wants to tell her that he knows she didn’t know, he doesn’t blame her, but she continues. 

“I worried,” she admits, sounding so pained. “But. Sweetheart, I am so sorry.”

He hates this. 

“Not your fault,” he tries to reassure her. “And it wasn’t, y’know, like I didn’t hit them… d-didn’t hit them back sometimes.” 

He sighs, not sure what else to say. How else to explain. 

This is… 

This isn’t Heidi’s life. This shouldn’t be Heidi’s life, she shouldn’t have to worry about him. 

“Evan,” she says, and her voice is just so sad, and her face is so lost, and tears are threatening to spill and Evan thinks that his heart might actually physically rip into two if he has to see Heidi cry. 

He hates that he’s upset her, hates that he’s making her so sad because this isn’t even _about_ him. This isn’t time for Evan’s fucking sob story, this is about Connor, about _his_ pain, not Evan’s. 

Not Evan’s. 

“It’s not fair,” he says, determined to focus back on what actually matters. “Connor doesn’t deserve this.”

“Nobody does,” Heidi replies immediately, her voice sad. “Nobody.” She blinks. A few tears spill. She wipes her face, like she’s irritated by the emotion, then fixes him with this intense, fiery look. “Evan, I need you to promise me that no matter what, if someone hurts you… You’ll tell me okay? I don’t ever want you in that position again, okay?”

“I…”

Evan wants to argue, suddenly. 

Wants to tell her that this isn’t her problem, this isn’t her fight, that she’s done more than enough and he’s a fucking idiot who’s always getting into trouble, that he deserves everything that’s happened to him because he’s pathetic and stupid and alone, alone for a goddamn reason, but he just… can’t. 

He just can’t tell her. Just can’t bring himself to say that to her face. 

“Okay,” he says finally. 

“Okay,” Heidi echoes, something almost relieved in her tone. She puts her hand on his shoulder and squeezes it gently. It looks like she’s going to say something, like she’s trying to figure out what to say, but nothing comes out. 

It makes sense. 

Evan’s not sure what to say either. 

He’s suddenly overcome with the desire to just… reach out and pull Heidi into a hug? Which is so weird and so stupid, he knows she wouldn’t want that, wouldn’t expect it and would think it was weird of him because he’s not a kid, he’s sixteen, and she’s not his mom.

She’s not his mom. 

Stupidly, a part of him wishes she was. 

There’s a cough, and then Connor’s in the doorway, his face pale. The bruise on his face is coming up and it makes Evan’s stomach churn, makes him feel sick, and his blood is rushing by his ears and he can hear his heart beating too fast and he wants to punch Cynthia Murphy in her stupid rich white lady face. 

But that’ll get him arrested. 

Like, full on just… locked away forever. 

No one’s going to believe the rich white lady deserves to be punched. 

“Connor, sweetheart,” says Heidi, looking up a little helplessly. “You doing okay?”

Connor shrugs. Looks like he’s trying to smile, trying to be reassuring, but it falls flat. “I’m okay,” he murmurs. “Just… tired.”

“I’ll let you guys get some rest, then,” Heidi says, standing up. She doesn’t let go of Evan’s shoulder immediately, just squeezes it again. Looks at him for a long moment, like she’s got something she wants to say. Something important. 

“Thank you,” Connor says quietly. “For letting me stay. I… thank you.”

Heidi looks so pained. “I just wanted you to feel safe tonight,” she says, her voice so soft. “I’m so, so sorry, Connor, I-”

“It’s late,” Connor interrupts, and he’s so pale and he’s so thin and Evan can see his hip bones, his collar bone, and how the fuck did he not see how thin Connor really was until now? How did he not notice that, he’s so fucking stupid. “You should… you should sleep.”

Heidi looks like she wants to argue, but nods. Squeezes Evan’s shoulder again, then heads for the door. “I’m upstairs if you need me,” she says, something almost fierce in her voice. “If you need anything. Just wake me up.”

She heads out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Evan looks at Connor, who’s impossibly thin in the borrowed clothes, and he thinks about how Connor struggles to eat and thinks about how Zoe insisted on the low-fat skinny whatever at Starbucks the first time they met and how he overheard other rich white ladies at the fashion show talking about diets, talking about the teenage models and commenting on their weight, how one lady had told her friends that she’d sent her daughter to fat camp over the summer and Evan doesn’t even know what the fuck that even _is_ but he knows it’s fucked up. 

Everything about this is… fucked up, it’s fucked up that you can have more money than Evan’s ever going to see in his life and still be starving. 

Be starving on purpose, because you feel like you have to. 

Fuck. 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck. 

“ _Are_ you okay, though?” Evan asks, realizing that it’s getting weird and he needs to say something. “Like… not just…” He lets out a shaky sigh. Realizes his heart is beating way too fast still. The next words come out in a rush. “Are you o-okay this was so f-fucked up your mom holy _shit_ Connor, I’m so so so so sorry.”

Connor blinks. Flinches a little, like the words are some kind of attack, and Evan hates himself for making Connor uncomfortable. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, then shrugs, his shoulders sagging. “We should sleep,” he says, his voice so quiet. 

Evan doesn’t know how the fuck he’s supposed to be able to do that, but he nods. Goes to the chest of drawers and pulls out an old wife beater and a pair of sweatpants. He’s about to just pull off the shirt he’s wearing, reaches for the edge and everything, then realizes how fucking weird that would be. Feels his cheeks turn pink, and Connor’s cheeks are pink, too. Evan mutters something about heading to the bathroom, then leaves the room in a hurry with his sleep clothes. 

He changes quickly, but not too quickly to avoid getting a glimpse of himself shirtless in the mirror. It’s a little jarring, to be honest. He’s filled out a fair bit in the last month. His shoulders are broader, his arms more defined. He’s less weedy, less breakable looking. 

Solid. 

Stronger. 

It…

Evan feels a lump in his throat, which is such a bullshit reaction to an arguably positive thing. He’s getting used to eating regularly and it seems to be having an effect. That’s a good thing. 

He pulls on the wife beater, noticing that it’s a little snug now. That’s…

Different. 

He thinks he likes it. 

Once he’s got his sweatpants on, he heads back to his bedroom, where Connor’s standing looking at the bed, his expression blank, his arms wrapped tight around his body. He looks cold. 

Evan grabs a hoodie of his from the chair next to the bed and throws it at Connor, who catches it automatically, looking surprised. 

“You’re cold,” Evan says, by way of explanation. “Put it on.” Connor’s still staring at him, looking at him like he's speaking some kind of alien language, and Evan feels his cheeks burn. “It’s clean, I promise.”

Connor opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, then nods and puts the hoodie on, wrapping his arms around himself again the minute it’s on. 

He keeps looking at the bed, his expression unreadable. 

“The bed is h-huge,” Evan points out, his voice shaky. “We can share, okay? It d-doesn’t have to be-be weird or whatever, it…” He swallows. Looks at Connor, this weird, jerking feeling at the pit of his stomach. “Or I can sleep on the chair if it’s too weird it’s okay I just want you to be comfortable you should be comfortable tonight was bullshit and you need to rest-”

“We can share,” Connor interrupts, his voice soft. He’s looking at Evan like he’s never seen him before. “It doesn’t have to be weird.”

“Okay,” Evan says, his heart still racing. 

Connor almost smiles. “Okay.”

* * *

Connor’s hiding in the bathroom. He splashes some cold water on his face. Changes out of his jeans and t-shirt and Evan’s borrowed hoodie, into the clothes he was given. 

He’s swimming in them. 

Even tying the drawstring as tight as it’ll go on these pants, they still seem at risk of falling down. 

Connor looks at his reflection. 

It feels like looking in a funhouse mirror. One that made him shrink. Is he… is he that skinny? In this mirror, his cheeks look sunken and pale (and there’s a bruise blossoming on one of them), his collar bone sticks out slightly from the neck of the shirt Evan gave him and it looks breakable and fragile and that matches precisely how Connor feels. 

He quietly opens the bathroom door and makes his way down the hall barefoot to stash his street clothes in Evan’s room, but he stops in his tracks when he hears Evan’s voice talking to Heidi. He sounds steadier now. 

He’d looked so scared back at the house, fuck. 

Connor’s the reason for that. 

“I don’t know if she’s done it before or… I didn’t know.” 

“I know you didn’t,” Connor hears Evan say. He takes a breath loud enough for Connor to hear. Connor stays still and out of sight, scared and worried about what they might say. About him, about his family. 

Heidi sounds upset. “I… I should talk to him. See if this has been a pattern. If she’s hurting him, I might need to call Child Services -”

Connor’s heart squeezes no no no no she can’t do that if she does that Connor will probably be shipped off to a nuthouse or something she can’t his mom and dad and Zoe will kill him they’ll kill him they’ll never forgive him. 

“Maybe don’t,” Evan says softly. “Or uh. L-let me talk to him?” He’s quiet for a second. “It’s… sometimes when… Like, it’s easy to lie? To an adult if they ask? It’s easier to-to, y’know, make up some dumb excuse.”

Connor doesn’t know what’s happening in that room. He can’t see them, but it’s gone so quiet. So quiet he’s almost sure Evan and Heidi will hear the way his heart is pounding against his ribs. Fuck. Did someone… has someone been hurting _Evan_? No no that’s not okay that’s not…. Evan doesn’t deserve that. 

“Evan… are you…?”

He makes this quiet, almost uncertain noise. “It wasn’t, like, a lot? B-but sometimes my dad… Or Ethan? They uh. Mark, he’s, you know, he’s dr-drunk a lot. Can’t always, like, stay out of his way well enough.”

“Evan,” Heidi’s voice is hushed and so so sad. “Oh god I didn’t… I didn’t know. I worried but. Sweetheart, I am so sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Evan murmurs. “And it wasn’t, y’know, like I didn’t hit them… d-didn’t hit them back sometimes.” He sighs.

“Evan…”

Evan’s clearly changing the subject. “It’s not fair. Connor doesn’t deserve this.”

“Nobody does,” Heidi replies softly. “Nobody… Evan, I need you to promise me that no matter what, if someone hurts you… You’ll tell me okay? I don’t ever want you in that position again, okay?”

“I…” Evan lets out a breath. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

Connor coughs as he walks into the hall properly, announcing that he’s there. When he enters Evan’s bedroom, Heidi has her hand on his shoulder and Evan is looking at her with wide, bewildered eyes.

They turn to look at him. Connor wants to shrink from their eyes, evaporate into the air. 

Heidi speaks first. “Connor, sweetheart,” says Heidi. She looks… heartbroken. Devastated. He gets it. He feels the same way. God, poor Evan. He hates that he’s gone through so much. He hates it. “You doing okay?”

Connor doesn’t know what to say. He wants to reassure her, show he’s fine, so he tries to smile. He’s not sure how well it works. It feels wrong on his face. “I’m okay,” he offers softly. “Just… tired.” 

It’s true. It’s so fucking true that it feels like Connor’s sagging under the weight of it.

“I’ll let you guys get some rest, then.” Heidi gets to her feet. Squeezes Evan’s shoulder… and stays there for a moment, like she wants to say something but can’t. Connor shouldn’t be here. He should go. Heidi hates him, she doesn’t want him around Evan and now he’s here in her house now she’s looking after him and that’s not fair to her he hasn’t even said thank you what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck. 

“Thank you,” He tries, his voice choked. “For letting me stay. I…” _Know you hate me. Know you don’t want me around Evan. Know you think I’m an asshole._ “Thank you.”

Heidi pulls a face, like he’s said something hurtful. “I just wanted you to feel safe tonight. I’m so, so sorry, Connor, I-”

“It’s late,” Connor jumps in because if she keeps apologizing, Connor will crumble into a thousand tiny pieces, they’ll have to sweep him off of the floor, he can’t let her go on. He can’t. “You should… you should sleep.”

Heidi opens her mouth immediately, like she’s going to tell him she is fine exactly where she is. But then she doesn’t. Her face shifts into something almost soft. “I’m upstairs if you need me,” she says, and her voice suggests she’s absolutely serious. “If you need anything. Just wake me up.”

Heidi heads out, shutting the door. 

Evan’s looking at Connor, something assessing about his gaze, and Connor feels exposed, trying to figure out what exactly Evan’s seeing. His frail looking bird bones or his greasy and lank hair or the crisscrossing lines inside of his arms to the desperate way Connor looks at Evan. 

“ _Are_ you okay, though?” Evan asks, something frantic in his voice. “Like… not just…” He breathes in this shivery sort of way, like he’s so freaked out, Connor’s freaking him out, he should go he should go he should _go_ . “Are you o-okay this was so f-fucked up your mom holy _shit_ Connor, I’m so so so so sorry.”

He blinks in surprise. Connor wasn’t expecting that. He flinches at the words. He doesn’t… Connor opens his mouth to reply but he doesn’t have words. He doesn’t know how to explain that no, actually, he is _not okay_ and actually, in fact, he’s pretty sure his parents are going to get rid of him and he’ll have nobody again and his sister actually hates him she finally told him she finally admitted it and hurts so much because it’s not like they are close but they’re siblings, they’re supposed to care about each other not hate each other. 

He can’t say any of that to Evan. They barely know each other. It’s not fair to unload that on him. “We should sleep,” he says instead. 

Evan nods. He heads into the dresser and pulls some clothes out and reaches for the hem of his shirt like he’s going to just change but then stops. His cheeks light up and then Connor feels his own face grow hot because fuck, fuck Evan totally knows, he absolutely knows that Connor’s just a rampantly homosexual disaster he can probably tell that Connor secretly wanted to get a better look at him under his clothes because he likes Evan he thinks he’s attractive and he’s not dead even if he tries not to be gross. 

“Just uh… bathroom,” Evan mumbles. He heads out of the room. 

Connor watches him go. 

Turns and regards the bed. 

There is only one bed. 

Should he offer to sleep on the floor? Or the sofa in the other room? It’s a big bed but Connor knows, he knows that guys don’t sleep in the same bed, they’re not _eight_ and fuck what if he wakes up with a boner like he normally does and what if Evan _sees_ it, sees him like that? What if he doesn’t want to share a bed with a freak like Connor, a fag like Connor, what if he actually hates Connor?

Connor wraps his arms around himself, unsure of what to do with himself because he can’t just, like, climb into bed and wait for Evan that’s so fucking creepy. 

Evan comes back into the room, wearing a white sleeveless undershirt and sweats and Connor has to fight to keep his expression neutral because fuck. 

He can see all of Evan’s arms. Some of his chest. The shirt is practically see through. And the sweats are loose but leave little to the imagination and Connor has to fight very hard not to stare. 

Connor wraps his arms around himself tighter because seeing Evan like this just casts into sharp contrast how inadequate and pathetic and wrong Connor’s own body is. Evan is solid and strong looking. He has actual muscles. He’s pale, but not the way Connor is, not in an unhealthy looking way. 

Evan grabs a hoodie off the back of a chair and tosses it to Connor. Connor catches it almost automatically, but he’s confused, he doesn’t understand, is Evan that grossed out by him…?

“You’re cold,” Evan says, his voice even and sort of casual. “Put it on.” 

Connor stares at him, not understanding, not sure why this boy keeps lending Connor his clothes but not trusting himself to ask what the fuck is going on. 

“It’s clean, I promise,” Evan says, his cheeks pink. 

Like Connor cares about that. Evan could have worn the thing for six weeks without showering or wearing deodorant and Connor would still want to put it on. He literally doesn’t care at all, he just can’t believe he’s allowed to do this. Wear this. That Evan’s… looking out for him like this. 

Connor manages to nod because he can’t trust his mouth, and then he pulls on the hoodie. He wraps his arms back around himself, but Connor feels warmer pretty much immediately. 

He directs his gaze back at the bed. 

There’s still only one bed. 

It’s big, Connor supposes. He thinks it’s a king. He doesn’t know stuff about bed sizes. His bedroom has a full; last year he lived on a twin XL. 

The bed is probably big enough that Connor doesn’t have to be, like, super worried about morning boners or accidentally touching Evan or something. 

“The bed is h-huge,” Evan says. The shaky quality has returned to his voice. He’s nervous. Fuck, Connor made him nervous. Fuck, he was trying to avoid that. Fuck why does he always make shit weird even when he’s trying desperately not to make shit weird. Fuck. “We can share, okay? It d-doesn’t have to be-be weird or whatever, it…” 

Connor hears Evan swallow. Watches the muscles in his throat working as he does it. His cheeks are so pink. Connor bets that they’re warm. He has the stupidest thought of pressing his cold fingers against them. 

Fuck he’s so damn weird. 

Evan’s still talking, his voice getting faster, almost manic, “Or I can sleep on the chair if it’s too weird it’s okay I just want you to be comfortable you should be comfortable tonight was bullshit and you need to rest-”

“We can share,” Connor interrupts softly, trying to spare him. He wants Connor to be comfortable. He cares about _Connor’s_ comfort. His stomach gives this almost painful lurch at that, his heart squeezes. Evan cares whether or not Connor’s comfortable. “It doesn’t have to be weird.”

“Okay,” Evan says, a little breathless.

Connor tries to smile. “Okay.”

They peel back the covers and climb into opposite sides of the bed. Connor tries to curl up close to his edge, and Evan gets the light, and then softly says, “Good night,” and Connor echoes it, curled up on his side, his heart racing. 

Evan’s in the same bed, but there’s like a foot of space between them.

Connor swallows hard. 

Closes his eyes. 

He knows immediately that sleep won’t be happening anytime soon, even though he’s exhausted. His eyes itch with fatigue and his whole body feels like it’s made out of lead but he just can’t turn his brain off. 

His parents are absolutely going to fucking kick him out again. There’s no doubt in Connor’s mind. 

He’s going to get shipped off to some other fucking school with all new people and he won’t fit in there he won’t fit in anywhere he doesn’t fit he doesn’t fit no matter what he does to try to slot himself into place he always sticks out some way. 

Connor listens to Evan breathing beside him, Tries to focus on that, on the even in and out of his breath, how steady it is despite how unsteady Evan often seems as a person. 

Fuck. 

His dad hits him. Ethan - whoever the fuck he is to Evan, his not-stepbrother - hits him. 

He can’t go back there. Connor needs to talk to Heidi before he’s sent away to make sure she won’t ever let Evan go back there. It’s not fair. Evan’s so… 

How could anyone look at him and want to hurt him? He’s so. Genuine. Kind. Smart. Strong. Amazing. 

Connor hates Evan’s dad. Hates Ethan. Hates that Evan has to deal with that in his life because even though it’s not happening right now it doesn’t mean that that shit doesn’t leave a scar, physical or otherwise. 

Connor listens to Evan breathe. 

Thinks about how this is probably the last time he’ll see him. 

He hates that. It makes his mouth taste like… metal somehow. 

Fuck. 

He stays there in bed for a while. Minutes or maybe hours, he doesn’t know, he doesn’t have his watch… He just can’t sleep. Why can’t he ever fucking sleep?

Connor gets up. 

He can’t just be there. 

Connor peels back the covers carefully, trying not to disturb Evan. 

“You can’t sleep either?” Evan says softly. Connor flinches, turning to look at Evan and sees that his eyes are wide open in the dark. 

“No,” Connor confesses. “I was just… I just.”

Evan turns on the light. Climbs out of bed. He heads to the chest of drawers and pulls out another hoodie, throwing it on. Grabs a pack of cigarettes from where it’s buried in his sock drawer.

“Come on then.”

* * *

The waves are rough tonight. Rougher than Evan’s ever seen them. 

He and Connor sit a little ways away from the beach house and smoke, not really saying much to each other to begin with. 

Connor’s the first one to break the silence. 

“My parents are probably going to ship me off again.”

Evan feels that like a punch to the stomach. 

“What?” he asks, looking at Connor intently. 

Connor’s looking at the ocean, not meeting his gaze. He takes a drag of his cigarette and exhales. “Another boarding school, I guess. Not the one I got kicked out of, obviously, but… there are others out east.” The cigarette in his hand shakes a little, because Connor’s hands are shaking, tiny tremors through his long, slender fingers. “Probably something near my dad’s mom.” He takes another drag of his cigarette. Exhales a cloud of smoke. “Or maybe they’ll, like… send me back to New Hampshire to live with Granny Murphy and go to the local high school there or whatever. I don’t know.”

“It w-wasn’t your fault,” Evan says stubbornly, hating how his voice trembles. “Your dad knows that, even if your m-mom doesn’t. They can’t send you away.”

“It might not be that bad,” says Connor, in this defeated voice. “Granny Murphy’s tough, but she actually gives a shit. And New Hampshire is… fine, I guess.”

Evan doesn’t know what to say. He wants to argue, wants to tell Connor that he’s not going to let Mr. and Mrs. Murphy send him away, that Heidi wouldn’t let that happen, but…

He isn’t sure. 

He isn’t sure what the Murphys will do. 

He wants to say everything will be okay, and normally he would, but he doesn’t want to lie to Connor. 

That makes no fucking sense, because he lies to everyone else. 

Even himself. 

Especially himself. 

He’ll lie and he’ll lie and he’ll spin himself a web of stories, wrap them around him like armor, just so he doesn’t have to face what’s really true. He’s been doing it for years - making shit up to protect himself. 

Telling people his mom was in a car crash. 

That his dad worked long shifts and was never home. 

He’d tell people he’d given his lunch to someone who really needed it instead of admitting it was stolen. Tell people he’d run into a door rather than been punched in the face. 

A broken arm from falling out of a tree, not from being picked up and thrown across the hallway, then kicked down the stairs. 

He’d lie about dumb shit, too. In middle school, he told people he was a foreign exchange student from Canada for a while. 

And now he’s Heidi’s nephew from Seattle. 

To everyone but Connor. 

Because for some stupid reason, he’s not good at lying to this kid. 

Evan has no idea why. 

“You were at boarding school in New Hampshire?” he asks, trying to clarify. Connor nods, still looking out at the ocean, stubbornly refusing to meet Evan’s gaze. Evan hates it. Hates that he won’t look at him. He pauses for a while, then asks another question. “Did you have friends there?”

Connor’s expression shifts, this pained expression Evan feels in his stomach. “One,” he says simply. 

Evan swallows hard. Looks out at the ocean. 

“If you went to stay with your grandmother, maybe you could still see your friend,” Evan says, a little weakly. “Even though you’re not at school together anymore.”

Connor keeps staring out at the ocean. 

He takes another drag of his cigarette, then exhales, letting a cloud of smoke escape. 

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” he says, something bitter in his voice.

* * *

Connor can’t look at Evan. Not now. He can't. 

“Why not?” Evan asks. He doesn’t sound judgmental or like he’s trying to pry. Just genuinely curious. Like he wants to know so he can… help or something. 

It strikes Connor that Evan is a good person. Like a Good Person, not a shitty selfish garbage piece of shit like Connor has always been. He’s genuine and he’s good and for whatever reason he’s made Connor his problem. At least for now. 

Connor knows how that usually goes for him. 

It’s always temporary. 

“I…” Connor exhales. He pulls his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around them. “Because I fucked up everything.”

Evan doesn’t immediately respond. Connor looks out of the corner of his eye, trying to make Evan’s expression out in the dark without letting on that he’s looking. He can’t bear facing whatever the reaction is head on. Evan sighs. “H- I mean. You don’t have to tell me. But… What happened?”

Connor pulls his knees to his chest tighter. 

He’s only told this truth a few times. A cleaned up version for his parents once they brought him home, but his mom thought he was lying so he shut up. To his fucking therapist after he hadn’t slept in a week because he just kept trying to call M a few weeks after he got home and never got an answer. 

“Miguel… that’s his name,” Connor adds hastily. “He’s a scholarship kid? His parents don’t… They couldn’t afford this fucking fancy ass private school.” He blinks, remembering how stricken M’s face was when he told Connor how he’d been caught out. Random room check. Normally they hid stuff better but M had gotten lazy, gotten used to the cover of living with a roommate who had the protection of wealth and a reputation. “He got caught with some weed. There’s a zero tolerance policy, at Hanover? One strike and you’re out.” He takes another drag on his cigarette. His hands are shaking harder. “He would have had to go back to this super… underfunded and crappy school in New York? There’s a huge problem with gangs there. He…” Connor takes a breath. “So I told the headmaster that the weed was mine.”

He can’t help it. Connor looks at Evan. He can’t place Evan’s expression. He might be surprised? Or even angry. Connor has no idea. He just doesn’t know what Evan’s thinking. “You took the fall,” He says after a moment. 

“Yeah,” Connor says. “And I got expelled. My parents were… pissed. Which, like, I get it. They spent like, tens of thousands of dollars to send me there, and I fucked up.” He stubs out his cigarette on the sand. Holds the butt in his hand. Doesn’t want to leave it on the beach. Bad for the environment. “When I got back home, M… Miguel. He stopped talking to me. Like, I’d text or call or message him on, like, MySpace or whatever and just. Radio silence.” 

Evan looks frustrated by this. “But you saved his ass.”

Connor shrugs. “He’s not the sort of person who wants to be saved,” He says. “I knew that. I just… I had to do something. And I know. I know where I come from. Like, I know that I’m… some fucking spoiled rich white kid from Orange County. I have no real problems. There’s no consequences for me getting caught with drugs, not really. Kids around here have gotten away with a lot worse. But M? His whole life would have been fucked up. I just… I wanted to do the right thing and I fucked it up.” 

“That’s not fair,” Evan says quietly. 

Connor shakes his head. “You’d think I’d fucking learn right? Every time I try to do the ‘right thing,’ I make things worse for myself.” He frowns. “At least New Hampshire is nice. Kind of cold in the winter. It snows sometimes.”

Evan nods. “I’ve never seen snow.”

Connor laughs bitterly. “My parents… used to take us fucking _skiing_ in the winters.” God he’s such a spoiled fucking asshole. Why doesn’t he just keep bragging about how fucking rich he is? “And I fucking hate skiing. That’s the dumbest part.”

Evan frowns at him. “I’m sorry.”

“That I hate skiing?”

“N-no,” Evan says. “About Miguel.” He puts his own cigarette out. “He sounds like a dick.”

Connor feels an all too familiar flash of anger but it dissipates fast. He laughs. 

“Well maybe when my folks ship me off to New Hampshire again, I’ll get a chance to tell him that to his face,” Connor mutters. 

Evan’s looking at him intently. “I hope they don’t.” 

Connor shrugs. “My mom’s… I mean. You saw her. She doesn’t want me in the house.” 

Evan’s face clouds over. He looks… pissed. And sad. He bites his bottom lip for a moment. “Has she done that before? Y-your mom?”

Connor knows what he’s asking, but he doesn’t want to answer. He tries to evade the question. “Like yelled and whatever? Yeah, like, pretty much all the time since I hit puberty and stopped letting her pick out my clothes.”

“Hit you,” Evan says. 

Connor’s horrified when he feels his eyes sting. “No. No it’s not like that,” He says, his voice tight. “I mean. Sure. She’s, like… A few times. It’s not even…” He shakes his head dismissively. “It’s not like. I mean. I’m…” He gestures toward his entire huge, freakish body. “I’m like a head taller than her, she…”

“But she’s hit you? Before today?” Evan presses. 

Connor hangs his head. Looks at his feet, pressed together on the sand. “Yeah. Not a lot but. Yeah.” He tries to sniffle as subtly as he can manage. 

He can practically hear Evan comparing their situations. 

It’s not the same, it’s not the fucking same at all. 

Connor clears his throat. “I didn’t mean to, like, eavesdrop,” He says quietly. “But I heard you… I heard you tell Heidi about Mark and-and Ethan.”

* * *

Evan feels his shoulders tense immediately. He takes in a sharp breath. 

Beside him, he sees Connor fold into himself, wrapping his arms around his torso. 

“I’m sorry,” Connor mutters. “Forget I said anything, I-”

“Mark didn’t want me in the first place,” Evan finds himself saying, and there’s this weird, dream-like quality, like he’s not really the one talking right now. Like it’s just pouring out of him, completely unbidden. “He f-fucked off when I was little and it was just me and my mom until just before I turned eight. After she died, I was in foster care for a while? It took them ages to find Mark and tell him that because I was his kid, he had to step up.” 

Evan can hear Connor swallow hard beside him. “How long did it take?”

Evan looks at the water. “I was eleven,” he says after a moment, his throat thick, his voice faraway to his own ears. “They didn’t find him until I was eleven.”

Connor’s quiet for a moment. Evan can’t look at him. 

“Fuck,” Connor mutters. “Fuck, that’s… fuck.”

“He didn’t want me,” Evan says again, and it’s like now that he’s said it, it’s all coming out. “He never wanted me, he…” He clears his throat. Blinks. Tries not to lose it completely. “He was out of work a lot? And I think that maybe… I don’t know, maybe he got some money for having me, for being a single parent, it’s probably why he kept me around.” 

“I’m sorry,” Connor says quietly. 

“It was usually okay if he had work,” Evan says, and he wishes he’d just shut up, he wishes he would stop fucking talking because this is too much, he shouldn’t be telling Connor this, he shouldn’t be telling anybody this, but he can’t seem to stop. “If he was working, then he wouldn’t drink as much. But when he was out of work, he’d just… be drunk all the time? And that would mean that he wouldn’t get work because he was too drunk to interview or whatever or he’d lose jobs he did have because of the drinking so…” He clears his throat. “Anyway, he’s kind of an asshole when he’s been drinking? And I was there and I was… little and I couldn’t fight back at first, so… he hit me a lot.”

Evan feels Connor tense beside him. “How much is a lot?”

“Not, like, every day,” Evan says, trying to be reassuring or whatever, but that doesn’t seem to work. “He just… he got angry, and I was there. So I learned to… not be there, to get out of the way.” He feels his face twist into a bitter smile. “It took me a stupidly long time to figure that out,” he admits, feeling a lump in his throat. “I was so stupid at eleven. Thought that because they’d finally found my dad and that he’d agreed to take me in that he’d… love me or whatever? Which is stupid, because I didn’t even know him, he was a total stranger to me, but… he was my dad and I thought he’d be… a dad. Like a dad is supposed to be.”

Connor’s still so tense. He’s sitting close enough that Evan thinks he can feel that he’s shaking a little. He must be cold. 

“It’s not stupid,” Connor says, and his voice shakes as well. “It’s not… it’s not stupid to be eleven and expect your dad to love you.”

“It is if you don’t know him,” Evan says frankly. “If you’ve never met him.” He shrugs. “Blood isn’t everything, I guess, it’s…” He sighs. Takes a last drag of his cigarette, which has been burning away as he’s been speaking, he’s been wasting it, it’s so stupid to waste things. He puts the butt out on the sand, then shoves it in the pocket of his hoodie. 

He doesn’t want to leave it on the beach. It’s bad for the environment.

Connor’s still shaking a bit. 

Evan should ask if he needs them to go back inside. He must be cold. 

Stupidly, selfishly, he wants to stay out here a little longer. 

“Ethan is my dad’s girlfriend’s kid,” Evan finds himself saying. “He’s the one who stole the car, he’s so fucking stupid. He’s, like, three years older than me, he’s been around since I was 14.” Evan stares out at the water and tries to make out the horizon, but he can’t tell where the ocean ends and the night sky begins. “He’s just a dick. Likes to beat me up because he can. He’s, like, three times my size? The one time I punched him back, he broke three of my ribs. So I’d just try to stay out of his way, too.”

It’s quiet. 

Connor isn’t saying anything. 

Evan wants to apologize, but before he can, Connor finally speaks. 

“Where would you go?” he’d ask. “To stay out of their way? Did you have somewhere you could go? Somewhere safe?”

Evan nods. “The library,” he says immediately. He takes a look at Connor, whose face is so, so pale in the moonlight, his eyes big and horrified. “It’s got terrible security and no one really checks when they close up, so I used to just hide in the bathroom just before closing then sleep on the floor between the stacks when things got bad.” Connor looks even more horrified and so, so sad, and Evan should look away but for some reason, he can’t. “It wasn’t so bad. The trick is to hide just before they open and then give it, like, half an hour before you head out and do whatever it is you need to do.” He tries to smile. “Made me late for school a lot, seeing as the public library doesn’t open until after school’s started, but at least I didn’t get hit.” He swallows. “Or kicked or thrown down the stairs or…” He trails off, and fuck, he needs to shut up, he needs to shut the fuck up, Connor just looks more and more terrified, like he’s going to completely lose it, and Evan needs to stop harping on about his stupid sob story existence, what the fuck. 

“I’m so sorry,” Connor chokes out. He blinks a few times. Shakes his head, like he’s trying to clear his head. Wraps his arms tighter around himself. “What… my mom would _never_ do that, it’s nothing like what happened to you, I’m so fucking sorry, I shouldn’t even complain about that, it doesn’t even fucking _matter_ compared to what happened to you.”

Evan feels a slight flare of irritation. “Of course it does,” he says firmly. “Of course it does, Connor, it matters-”

“I’m so fucking selfish for even thinking about it,” Connor interrupts, and he runs a hand through his hair, and he’s definitely shaking a little. “I don’t… it doesn’t matter, I’m so fucking selfish, some people have real problems-”

“Stop,” Evan interrupts, louder than he means to, and Connor’s eyes go even bigger. “Just stop. Please.”

Connor shrinks into himself. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“You’ve got to stop saying that,” Evan blurts out.

Connor blinks, looking like Evan just slapped him. “That I’m sorry?”

“That some p-people have real problems,” Evan says, his voice shaking. “Like _your_ problems aren’t real.”

Connor blinks again. “It doesn’t compare-”

“I’m not asking you to compare,” Evan interrupts as firmly as he can. “You can’t compare shit, okay, you just… you c-can’t say that your problems aren’t real. That they d-don’t matter.” He feels like he could cry, all of a sudden. “I h-hate it when you act like you don’t matter, Connor. I hate it.”

* * *

Connor doesn’t know what to do. What to say. 

He feels like he could just… dissolve. Of embarrassment and shame and… 

“Why?” He croaks because he doesn’t know what to do or what to say or how to react. “I don’t… I don’t understand, I -”

“You matter,” Evan says, sounding almost annoyed, almost frustrated, like he’s spelling out something fundamental and Connor is too fucking dense to comprehend it. 

Connor wants to protest. Wants to say that no, really, he doesn’t. He doesn’t do anything remarkable. He just fucks up. Huge collosal fuck ups and small, insignificant fuck ups, it’s all he does. All he can do no matter how hard he tries. How hard he tries to matter. 

He wants to know why. He wants to know what it is about him that Evan makes so insistent he matters. 

But he’s too scared to ask. 

What if he hates the answer? What if he fucks this up?

He tries to breathe. Tries to think. Breathes unevenly. Connor’s hands and arms are shaking and he can’t tell if he’s cold or overly tired or what. His body is telling him something but he’s stopping being able to speak it’s language. 

“You matter too,” Connor practically whispers. Because he needs Evan to hear it. “You’re, like. Incredible. You matter. And that stuff… about your dad?” Connor tries to put some weight behind his words. “He doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t deserve to know you.” 

Evan opens his mouth. Closes it again. 

“I’m so sorry,” Connor goes on. “That you have had to deal with so much. You deserve so much fucking better than that.” 

Evan laughs almost humorlessly. “What makes you say that?”

Connor tries to grin. It flops. Lands about as well as a fish dropped on dry land. It’s twitchy and desperate to escape. “Just… You’re fucking important.” 

Evan’s eyes are huge. “To who?” 

“Heidi,” Connor says, certain in his words. “My dumbass sister, though I don’t know why the two of you are…” He shakes his head. It’s not important. “Me. Okay? You’re important to me.” He looks down at his feet. “You’re like. Genuinely my only friend and… Even if you weren’t. Even if you didn’t do anything or you weren’t a fucking genius or kind of hilarious… you’d _still_ matter.” 

Evan doesn’t look convinced. Connor wishes he had something better to say, something better to give him but he’s got nothing. 

Evan shakes his head. “We weren’t talking about me… W-we’re talking about you.”

Connor sighs. “Honestly I’m so fucking tired of talking about myself,” he says, almost bitterly. “I’m like a fucking urban legend in my own life. It’s stupid.” 

Evan nods. 

Connor stares out at the ocean. At the big waves. 

He thinks about how easy it might be to swim out against the rough surf, to fight the tossing of the ocean and battle the undertow and just… give up. 

Stop swimming. Cease treading water. Let the current take him. 

He thinks about how if Evan weren’t here, that might be really fucking tempting. How he could load up his pockets with rocks. How his body would be pushed out to sea and nobody would know what he had done. 

Connor thinks about the look on Evan’s face when they went past the pool in the Wallaces’ backyard. How something about it still haunts him, scares the shit out of him, because what if Evan thinks about disappearing? 

“If you do have to go to New Hampshire,” Evan volunteers suddenly. “I’d answer if you called.” 

“You would?” Connor asks, surprised. 

“I mean, I… I k-kinda hate the phone, because my voice and-and my stutter but… Yeah. I’d, uh. I’d answer. If it was y-you.”

Connor suddenly feels a whole lot warmer. “If you ever have to leave,” he says cautiously. “I’d call you. Too. Just. So you know.” 

Evan’s smile wilts. “If I leave here,” he says, “I probably wouldn’t even be able to afford a phone.” 

“I’m sorry,” Connor says, feeling guilty because despite what Evan’s said, he can’t help comparing their situations. And Evan undoubtedly has been dealt with some of the most horrifying things Connor can imagine. “Just… Fuck man. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” Evan says quietly. “Don’t. I don’t want you feeling sorry for me I -”

“I don’t,” Connor interrupts. “I don’t feel sorry for you. But I’m… I’m still sorry you had to go through that. It’s like… a solidarity thing. You see somebody going through hell and you… You wish they weren’t.” 

“I get that,” Evan finally says. 

Connor wonders if he really does. If he’s truly that kind that he can see past his own problems and afford that to people. Because maybe he shouldn’t. Maybe he should compare scars, maybe he should let himself win at losing because… how can he care so much when he already has so much to deal with?

His dad. Connor wants to end that guy. Kill him with his bare hands or run him over with a car or light that fucker on fire because how dare he lay hands on Evan, how dare he not care about his kid, how dare he leave Evan all alone for three whole years to navigate foster care and then hurt him when he got out how can be be that cruel and stupid?

And Evan still thinks Connor matters? That’s, like, insane. 

Like, fuck, he lost his mom at seven. 

Evan lost his mom at seven. 

How unfair is that? Seven, that’s like not even a person yet, that’s like a tadpole version of a human, that’s when you should still play with stuffed animals and not be embarrassed if your mom kisses you in front of your friends at school. Seven is when you should still believe in the tooth fairy. It’s not when you should lose your fucking mom. 

Connor wonders. If experiencing so much cruelty can make you kinder. 

He doesn’t know. 

The small amounts of cruelty he’s faced certainly hasn’t made him a sweeter or gentler person. 

He doesn’t know. 

* * *

The waves keep crashing and Evan feels a calm settle over him. 

He can’t figure out if it’s the ocean or Connor who’s making him feel that way. 

The ocean has been like some kind of weird lifeline ever since he got here, this thing that keeps him from going totally crazy in this world that still doesn’t make any fucking sense to him. 

And so has Connor. 

Connor’s here, and he’s solid and steady and real and he wants to spend time with Evan, he’s content to sit here and talk on the beach. Just… talk and take in the view. 

No one else has ever wanted to spend time with him like this. 

The waves are crashing and the night air is cool and Evan knows they should sleep. Knows that it must be, like, nearly four in the morning by now. But he doesn’t know if he’s ready yet. 

Ready to let this go. 

Especially if tonight’s the last time he’ll ever see Connor. If the Murphys send him away to New Hampshire. 

Even if they don’t send him away, it could be the last time he gets to hang out with Connor like this if Mr. Murphy decides that it’s _Evan_ who’s the bad influence, because Mr. Murphy knows who Evan really is. 

Something tells him Mrs. Murphy has no idea. 

That’s probably just as well. 

They sit and they watch the water and it’s starting to get a little lighter, the darkness of the night giving way to the morning, and Evan knows they have to go inside, they have to at least try to get some sleep, for Heidi’s sake. 

She’d want them to sleep. 

He’s about to say they should head in when Connor’s voice breaks the silence. 

“Your mom died when you were seven.”

Evan feels his heart clench painfully. “Yeah,” he manages to choke out. 

Connor’s looking at him, his face young and open and so, so sad. “How did she die?”

Evan closes his eyes. 

Feels his whole body go cold. 

The waves are almost deafening. 

He feels himself start to shake. Just a little. Hopefully it’s not noticeable, hopefully Connor doesn’t notice, but Evan doesn’t think he’ll miss it, because Connor sees him. 

Connor sees him. 

“I’m sorry,” Connor says after a long moment, and Evan opens his eyes and looks over to see his friend’s face is white and apologetic. “I didn’t mean to pry, you probably don’t want to talk about it-”

“I don’t know _how_ to talk about her,” Evan blurts out, looking at Connor, trying to make what he’s saying make sense. “It’s not… it’s not that I don’t want to talk about her, that I don’t want to tell you-”

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want-”

“If I were g-going to talk to _anyone_ about her,” Evan interrupts, his voice shaking, “it would be you _,_ Connor.”

Connor’s mouth opens slightly, like he’s in shock. His eyes are wide and he’s looking at Evan with this expression he can’t quite understand. 

Evan tries to explain. Tries to make sense of it all. 

To make it make sense to Connor. And himself. 

“I d-don’t… I don’t talk about her,” he says quietly. “I j-just don’t? Because if I do…” He looks at the water. His eyes sting painfully. There’s a lump in his throat, a cold feeling all the way through him, and he’s still shaking. 

“You don’t have to,” Connor says, and his voice is so soft, so kind, and fuck, Evan can feel the tears escaping and that’s so fucking embarrassing, this kid must think he’s such a fucking loser, holy shit. He wipes his face with his sleeve and chances a look at Connor. “Evan…”

“If I try to talk about her,” Evan says, his whole body feeling a strange sort of weightless, “I don’t think I could even say anything? I…” He swallows hard. Blinks. Wipes his face again. Looks at Connor. “If… if I tried, I'd just open my mouth and start screaming _._ And I’d never stop.” 

Connor is blinking rapidly, and his eyes are glassy, and he’s nodding. “I get that,” he says softly. “I… fuck.”

Evan wonders if maybe he really does. 

“We should try to sleep,” Evan says after a moment. “Do you think you could maybe sleep now?”

Connor looks like he’s considering it, then nods. “We can try, I guess.”

“Always worth trying,” Evan jokes, and it’s a dumb joke that’s not even really a joke but he’s rewarded with a soft smile from Connor, and it’s actually really fucking beautiful. 

He’s too tired to really analyze how fucking weird that is to think. 

They get up. Brush the sand off their pants. Head back to the house, stopping to deposit cigarette butts in a trash can outside first. 

Evan carefully opens the front door, listening carefully for any sign that they’ve woken Heidi, but there’s no sound, so they head back to Evan’s room. 

The two of them kick off their shoes by the door, then climb into their sides of the bed. 

It’s a really fucking huge bed. 

They’re further away than they were when they were sitting on the beach. 

Evan kind of misses being close. 

“I hope you sleep,” Evan says softly. “Even if it’s just for a little while.”

Connor’s eyes shine in the dark. “You too.”

He closes his eyes. Lies there for a while in that strange place between asleep and awake. 

“Evan?”

Evan is too tired to open his eyes. “Hmmm?”

“I’m glad I met you.”

Evan smiles. Keeps his eyes closed. 

“Me too,” he manages to murmur before sleep finally takes him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "The Secret's In The Telling" by Dashboard Confessional. 
> 
> Fic title is from "Camisado" by Panic! at the Disco


	15. The Kind of Kid That Can’t Let Anything Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor's future is uncertain.

Connor doesn’t know when he fell asleep. It was after Evan, that much he knows. He remembers listening to the way Evan’s breathing evened out. He remembers daring to roll onto his side to take in the sight of Evan asleep. He recalls thinking it felt sort of intimate to see him that way. Intimate in a different way to spilling about his shit or hearing about some of Evan’s. Evan looks like a kid in his sleep. Not a tough and wise teenager, but an honest to god kid, young and vulnerable and unworried. 

Connor must have fallen asleep sometime around dawn, he estimates. 

When he wakes up he’s disoriented by the unfamiliar room. The way the sun is streaming in through the curtains. The soft bed and the warmth around him. 

Wait that’s not. 

Connor blinks a few times. 

What. 

He looks to his side and realizes Evan is pressed close to him. His arms are encircling Connor’s middle, clutching him the way Connor remembers holding tight to a stuffed animal when he was super little. He never had a teddy bear. His stuffed animal of choice was a killer whale. He thinks it came from a trip to San Diego. Sea World. Connor and Zoe were obsessed with  _ Free Willy  _ as little kids. They wanted to liberate the orcas. Their parents bought them stuffed animals instead. 

Connor blinks again. He’s sure he’s imagining this. Evan wouldn’t want to cuddle up to Connor. This is obviously a dream. 

Fuck how damaged is Connor that he doesn’t even have sex dreams? He has cuddle dreams. 

But then realization dawns that he’s definitely awake. He has to pee for one. And the morning boner he had been so worried about last night is currently pressed against Evan’s hip. 

Fuck that’s so pervy and weird. 

But also Connor doesn’t want to move. 

It’s nice. Having someone hugging onto him like this. And Evan’s warm. 

M never liked cuddling. He swore it was because their dorm beds were so cramped and awkward but Connor always suspected it was him. That Miguel didn’t want to be close to him unless he could be inside him. He’d touch him casually a lot but he never wanted to be physically close. Never wanted to cuddle after they finished. Because Connor radiated crazy out. 

He’s never really been, like, held like this before. He can’t deny that it’s nice. More than nice. Connor feels totally safe and warm and… wanted. 

Fuck that’s a lot for first thing in the morning. 

He needs to get up. This is weird. Connor knows this is weird. Snuggling up with your unconscious friend is definitely not cool or ethical or whatever. Especially with a boner. 

Connor’s never really had a proper friend since he figured out he was gay. Like. He had M, he guesses, but the lines there were all undefined and blurry. Friend? Friend with benefits? Boyfriend? Connor didn’t know. 

Still doesn’t. 

It was never really clear to him whether or not M considered them to be together. 

And he never had to tell Miguel he was into dudes because Miguel just seemed to  _ know.  _ They had known each other for no time at all before they were hooking up. And M is gay. 

Point being, Connor doesn’t know what it means to come out to a friend. A friend who is accidentally cuddling you in their sleep. 

He’s pretty much certain that Evan is straight. Straight as hell. He’s got an obvious thing for Zoe. 

But sometimes. Like last night. Like right now?

Connor feels like the lines are getting a little smudged. Not like with M. Miguel would kiss him and touch him and wanted to see him naked. He always demanded that of Connor when they did stuff. He wanted Connor  _ naked _ . It was super scary at first to show himself like that. To let someone see him that way. 

Connor’s pretty sure Evan doesn’t want that. 

He’s probably just. Lonely. And Connor’s just here. He’d probably cuddle anything. A pillow. A dog. Connor. All the same. Probably. He’s just a breathing pillow. 

Connor needs to get up. He’s being creepy and he really needs to pee. 

He moves slowly and carefully to shift himself away from Evan. Pry himself out of Evan’s surprisingly strong grip. 

Almost as soon as Connor’s out of the bed, Evan shifts and hugs Connor’s pillow to his chest. 

Right. 

He could have been anyone. Any _ thing.  _

Connor creeps out of the room. Opens and closes the door carefully. Walks as quietly as he can down the hall and into the bathroom. He pees sitting down because pissing with a boner is fucking annoying and also he’s afraid he might like. Pee all over Heidi’s nice clean bathroom. 

Right. 

Connor needs to talk to Heidi. Make sure that even if (or more likely,  _ when _ ) his folks send him off to another far away place, she won’t let Evan end up back with his horrible dad. 

She can’t let him go back there. Ever. 

Connor flushes the toilet. Washes his hands and then his face. 

Reties the drawstring of the pants he borrowed. They were dangerously low on his hips when he woke up. He doesn’t want to inadvertently give Heidi Herzberg an eyeful. His mother would have a fucking field day with that if it ever got back to her. Fuck. 

Connor squares his shoulders. He needs to go talk to Heidi.

* * *

Heidi takes a while to wake up. She’s tired, so she drifts in and out of sleep for a while. She can hear the ocean, hear the waves crashing on the shore, and it’s relaxing enough to send her back to sleep. 

When she gets up properly, it’s nearly eleven. She heads downstairs to check on Evan and Connor, wanting to see for herself that they’re okay. 

She opens the door to Evan’s room to see that they’re both sound asleep, that despite the fact that the bed is huge, they’ve drifted toward each other during the night and they’re tangled up in a way that would make Heidi think twice if they weren’t both boys. 

It makes something twist inside her, the sight of the two of them basically clinging to each other. No doubt they’ll be embarrassed when they wake up, but a part of her thinks that maybe they both kind of just need someone right now. 

God knows she’d wanted to hug both of them after what happened last night. 

Heidi still can’t believe Cynthia’s reaction. Can’t believe how she spoke to Connor, how she’d  _ hit  _ him…

Fuck. 

Obviously she’d been drinking, and Heidi knows full well how crazy Cynthia’s been acting since David’s death, but to lay a hand on her own kid? 

Fuck. 

She’s got half a mind to just drive over to the Murphys, go get Connor’s school stuff and some clean clothes and just keep both Connor and Evan here until Larry drags Cynthia’s ass to rehab or therapy or something but...

Obviously she can’t do that. That’s not productive, it’s not her place, and it would probably do more harm than good. 

And Connor would probably never forgive her. 

She just hopes that Larry deals with this properly. That he doesn’t punish Connor for the party any more than Cynthia already has. 

The kid’s been through enough. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, Heidi had been so sure that Zoe was the responsible one. So sure that she could be trusted to keep Evan out of trouble. 

She’d asked Larry to keep Connor away from Evan because she’d thought Connor was the bad influence, but Connor was the one who’d got Evan out of a situation that could have ended very, very badly for him. 

Connor’s the one who kept Evan safe. Who called his dad, who tried to break up the party and got a punch in the stomach by Brian Harris for it. 

Who also seems to have managed to stop Evan from punching Brian right back, considering that Evan didn’t have busted knuckles or bruises all over him. 

Heidi hates seeing Evan with bruises. 

She’s so, so grateful he managed to get through the party without getting into a fight. 

Heidi heads to the kitchen to make some coffee. There are pastries in the fridge that they hadn’t finished at breakfast yesterday, so she pulls them out and snacks on a danish while she waits for the coffee to brew. 

She’s pouring herself a cup when Connor appears in the doorway to the kitchen in one of Evan’s hoodies, his arms wrapped around himself protectively. His hair is tangled and a little greasy and he has big dark circles under his eyes. The bruise on his cheek is a stark contrast against his pale skin and he looks so young. 

So damn young. 

Connor turned seventeen yesterday. 

He’s only just seventeen. 

“Morning sweetheart,” she says, trying to keep her voice calm and soothing. “Do you want a danish? Some coffee?”

“No thank you,” he says, his voice quiet and polite. 

“I can get you a towel if you want a shower,” Heidi says, putting her coffee cup down. “I know that always makes me feel a little bit more like a human being.”

Connor hesitates for a moment, then nods. “Thank you,” he says, still so quiet. He looks at his feet for a moment, looks at his bare toes, then looks back at Heidi. “Evan’s still asleep.”

“I figured,” Heidi says fondly, and Connor’s mouth curves into a small smile. “I think he sleeps better here.”

“He likes the ocean,” says Connor, and he’s properly smiling now, this fond smile that reaches his eyes. Heidi’s heart clenches a little at how much this kid obviously cares about Evan. 

Evan deserves a friend who cares. 

Evan deserves so fucking much more than what he’s had. 

Connor’s smile drops a little, and he looks Heidi in the eye. Squares his shoulders, like he’s preparing for a fight. Heidi’s about to ask what’s going on but then he speaks. 

“You can’t let him go back to his dad,” says Connor, his voice stronger than Heidi expects. “You… you just can’t. If anything happens, if it all goes wrong, you… you can’t let him go back there. You have to keep him safe. Okay?”

“Of course,” Heidi says instantly. “I’m not letting him go anywhere, okay? No matter what. He’s staying here. He’s not going back there.” 

Connor looks… relieved and just completely devastated all at once. 

Heidi realizes with a pang that they must have talked about Mark. About how he treated Evan. The thought of it makes her feel physically ill, like she could genuinely throw up, and she’s willing to bet a sizable chunk of cash that she’s barely heard the half of it. 

That there’s more trauma and horror in Evan’s past than she knows. 

She could honestly kill that man for what he did to Evan. Rip him to pieces, just tear him apart with her bare hands. She knows the guy is at least twice her size but she’s so angry, so filled with righteous fury that she’s sure she could do it. 

Heidi blinks a few times, trying to get her anger under control. Connor’s still looking at her with these big, scared eyes and it dawns on her that there’s something Connor’s not saying, there’s a reason he’s bringing this up now. 

“I swear I’ll keep him safe,” she says again. “Like you did last night.”

Connor’s eyebrows knit together. He frowns. “I didn’t-”

“He didn’t get into a fight last night,” Heidi interrupts. “And you and I both know that he’s impulsive enough that he could have. You kept him safe. Took him away from the party and kept him safe.”

Connor opens his mouth. Closes it. His shoulders sag. “If he’d gotten into a fight, it would have been bad,” he says simply. “I couldn’t let that happen.”

“Thank you,” Heidi says, making sure the words have the weight they need. “Thank you, Connor, thank you so much for looking out for him.” She chooses her next words carefully. “I owe you an apology. I haven’t been fair to you.”

Connor’s eyebrows shoot up. “What?”

“I made an assumption,” Heidi says, trying to keep her voice steady and clear and bullshit-free. “I assumed that you’d get Evan into trouble, given your past struggles, and I wasn’t fair to you. I’m so sorry for doing that.”

Connor looks lost, confused, and more than a little apprehensive. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“I do,” she insists. She smiles at him, trying to be as reassuring as she can. “I’m not too proud to admit I make mistakes sometimes.” She fixes him with a look, trying to communicate everything that’s on her heart as best she can. “You did the right thing last night, Connor, and I’m so sorry that your mother didn’t see that. You don’t deserve what she did.”

Connor just seems to shrink in front of her, his shoulders sagging. “I could have done more,” he mumbles. “I shouldn’t have left Zoe alone, I-”

“It was her party,” Heidi interrupts firmly. “Her party, her friends. Her responsibility. You called your dad, you tried to break it up.”

“She’s only sixteen,” Connor says, sounding a little desperate. “I’m older, I should have-”

“You’re only seventeen. You did the best you could.” 

Connor folds in on himself even more. “It wasn’t good enough,” he mumbles. “I’m not-”

His mouth clamps shut. 

Heidi aches at the unfinished sentence, hanging in the air. 

_ I’m not good enough.  _

“You kept Evan safe,” Heidi says again. “Kept him from getting hurt, from getting into trouble. If the cops had shown up and they’d picked him up, every other one of those kids would have gotten off with a warning but Evan would have been in serious trouble. You stopped that from happening.”

“It was Evan’s idea to leave,” Connor murmurs. “He… I didn’t do anything, I just…”

“You drove him here,” Heidi says after a moment. She smiles a little despite herself. “You know, Evan can’t actually drive.”

Connor’s head snaps up. He looks confused. “He stole a car.”

“Technically he was just there.”

Connor blinks. Looks genuinely taken aback.

Heidi’s smile widens a little. “You have to admit, it’s kind of funny that he’s a car thief when he can’t drive.”

Connor looks like he can’t decide whether he’s allowed to laugh. 

“He couldn’t have got to the beach house without you,” Heidi continues. “You did everything right last night, Connor.”

Connor’s face twists. He looks like he’s going to say something, then his shoulders sink. 

“Is it okay if I shower?” he asks after a moment. 

Heidi desperately wants to say something to make things better. 

Desperately wants to fix things. 

But she doesn’t have the words. She doesn’t have the solution. 

All she can give this poor kid is an apology and a towel. 

And it’s not nearly enough.

* * *

Connor takes the towel Heidi offers and throws it over his shoulder. Then he heads back to Evan’s room to grab his clothes from yesterday. 

When he opens the door, Evan’s head pops up. He blinks at Connor sleepily, looking a little out of it. “Wha’s happening?” He mumbles. 

“Just grabbing my clothes so I can shower,” Connor says softly. “Go back to sleep.”

Evan gives Connor this unguarded and sleepy smile and Connor feels his heart squeeze painfully. He’s like. Painfully adorable like this. Evan flops his head back into the pillow Connor slept on, burying his face in it. “Kay,” he says. Sighs. Connor stoops to collect his stuff. 

“There’s… Clean shirt. In the drawer.” Evan yawns. Cuddles closer to the pillow. 

“You sure? I don’t wanna like steal your stuff-”

“What’s mine is yours, man,” Evan says. His eyes slip closed again. 

_ Man.  _

Connor tries not to let that hurt. To take it like a man. He shakes his head. Goes into the drawer he saw Evan grab a shirt out of last night. He ignores the handful of wife beaters because no that would be a total joke. Ignores all of the bright and colorful polos and t-shirts with Holister and Abercrombie logos. Finally his fingers find a soft and worn gray t-shirt. 

That should work. 

He hopes he doesn’t like. Stretch it out. 

Connor grabs his jeans and stuff and heads out of the room and into the bathroom. He twists on the taps in the shower, turning them to basically scalding and then strips off his borrowed pajamas. 

He’s immediately freezing. Ugh. 

Connor scoots quickly into the shower, trying to ignore the sight of himself in this weird funhouse-like mirror. He hisses at how hot the shower is, but doesn’t adjust it. Let’s himself acclimate. Then examines the options for like shampoo and whatever. 

All some fancy ass brands no doubt. 

He grabs the one that smells the least like a fucking girl and washes his hair. It has been a couple of days since he bothered. He rinses out the shampoo and then rubs a dollop of conditioner through it, because his hair has been a knotty mess lately. 

He leaves it on while he washes himself. 

He has a huge fucking black and blue mark at the base of his ribs from where Brian punched him. It’s tender to the touch. He flinches as he runs the soap over it. 

Ow. Fuck. 

It all comes rushing in. 

The party was a mess. 

Connor’s mom fucking hates him. 

Zoe definitely hates him. He doesn’t know when she went from indifferent to outright hating him but it hurts worse than the bruises. 

He thinks about not letting Evan punch Brian. Even though Evan clearly wanted to. Even though Connor sort of wanted him to. 

Heidi thinks Connor kept Evan safe last night. But she’s got it wrong. Evan got them out of there. Evan kept Connor from getting his ass kicked. 

It was sort of nice to hear that Heidi thinks she’s wrong about him. She’s wrong about being wrong of course but. It’s nice to see someone have a small amount of faith in him. And he’s satisfied she won’t let Evan go back to his dad’s. That’s the important thing. 

If Connor’s not around, it’s good that Evan has someone in his corner. 

Connor rinses out his hair. Switches off the water. He’s immediately shivering but he doesn’t really mind. At least he feels like he’s actually real when he’s cold like that. 

Connor towels off. Changes back into his boxers and pants from yesterday. His jeans still have the belt Evan gave him around the waist. He likes that. He likes the belt. Likes how much it… suits him. Not that he is like. Someone with style. But when he tries this belt is what it looks like. 

He pulls on Evan’s t-shirt. 

It’s a little bit short so Connor has to hike his pants up a little to make sure he’s not like showing off his stomach. God why is he so fucking long? 

Connor towels his hair aggressively. Then combs it out as best as he can with his fingers. He doesn’t really want to ask Heidi for a hairbrush. 

Evan’s hair is too short for him to have one probably. He wouldn’t mind borrowing a brush from Evan but he doubts Evan has one. 

Doesn’t want to wake him anyway. 

Connor drops his borrowed clothes into the hamper in the bathroom. Hangs his towel up. He’s not sure what to do with himself. 

He goes back to the kitchen. 

Heidi is still sitting there, drinking coffee. “Can I get you anything, sweetie?” She offers immediately. Connor has a seat across from her and shakes his head. He doesn’t need anything. Shouldn’t want anything. 

“Let me at least get you some coffee? You look dead on your feet.”

Connor relents. “Sure.”

“Cream or sugar or both?” She asks him kindly. 

“Black is fine,” Connor says. 

She looks at him strangely. 

He doesn’t know what to say. He takes his coffee black. He used to dump all sorts of shit into it, but now it just makes his teeth hurt if he drinks sugary coffee. 

He’s been having a hard time with orange juice too. Too acidic. It burns his lips and the places in his mouth where he keeps biting down on the inside of his cheek. 

Heidi gives him the coffee. She brings out a plate of pastries. Connor’s embarrassed when his stomach grumbles at the sight of them. 

“Have one,” Heidi insists and Connor doesn’t want to take her food he’s just going to puke it up later it’s a waste. 

But she looks worried and so Connor takes one. He doesn’t want to worry her. That’s not fair to her. She shouldn’t worry. 

Not about Connor anyway. 

He does his best to eat half of a croissant. Heidi keeps looking at him expectantly. Like he’s gonna spill his guts to her or something. 

Connor is not gonna do that. 

Finally, Heidi speaks. “I talked to your dad when you were in the shower.”

“Oh,” Connor says. He waits for, “and he’s going to take you to the airport in a few hours.”

It doesn’t come. 

Instead Heidi says, “What happened last night was not your fault Connor. Your dad knows that.”

He stares. 

“You did everything right.”

She’s already said this to him but. Somehow it feels worse to hear it again. Connor stares into his coffee mug. He can’t meet her eyes. 

He’s known Heidi forever. Literally. David’s his godfather. 

_ Was  _ his godfather. 

But he’s known Heidi since before he could even, like, make memories. She’s always been there. Always been nice, though around the time Connor hit puberty he started to suspect she didn’t particularly care for him. He always thought that she liked Zoe better. 

She probably does. Even if she’s pissed at Zoe now. Zoe’s the one she called to help Evan get some clothes when he first got here. Zoe’s the one she shows up to events for. 

He gets it. Even at her worst, Zoe is like. A hundred times the person Connor is. She’s just. Nicer. Better. She understands the rules better than Connor could ever hope to when it comes to this place and these kids. Zoe fits. She might have to fake like she’s stupid and hang out with vapid narcissists like Madison to do it but she fits. 

Connor never has. He doesn’t fit. Not anywhere. Definitely not here. 

Sometimes when it’s just him and Evan, Connor feels like he might. Like there’s a space for him. 

“So your dad is going to come around to pick you up in a little while,” Heidi presses on, her voice bright and slightly too cheerful. 

“Alright.”

“He says… to tell you he’s sorry about last night. For not answering right away. I guess he and your mom went to a movie?”

A movie with a full bar, apparently. 

Not that Connor says anything about it. He suspects Heidi already knows all about Cynthia Murphy’s downward spiral. Connor’s overheard the tiger Newport moms talking shit about her since he got back. On the Fourth of July, at the barbecue his parents throw every year, Connor managed to sneak a drink and heard Jenny Kleinman going on and on about how “sad” it was that his mom had gone off the deep end since David died. How embarrassing it must be for his dad to be putting up with her. 

“Maybe I should give Larry the number for Shelly’s divorce attorney,” one of the gaggle mused out loud. 

“Larry is an attorney,” Jenny had said like this woman was a special breed of stupid. Which. Fair. His dad was a partner at a major firm. Everyone knew that. 

“What time’s he coming?” Connor asks Heidi quietly. 

“One thirty,” Heidi answers. 

Connor glances at the clock. One hour. He has one hour. 

He sort of. Wishes Evan would wake up properly. It would be nice to get a chance to say goodbye. 

Fuck. They barely know each other and Connor is going to miss Evan so much. Evan’ll move on. If he gets with Zoe she will help him to fit right in with all of the other assholes at school. He’ll forget Connor. Connor will be that guy he talked to a few times right when he first moved here. What was his name again? 

As if Evan heard Connor’s pleading thoughts, he appears in the kitchen in sleep rumpled pajamas. His hair is sticking up all over the place. He looks better than he did in the middle of the night. Less ruffled and worried. Sleepy but content. 

“G’morning,” Evan says with a yawn. 

“Afternoon,” Heidi says with a fond smile. Whenever she looks at Evan, it does something soft to Heidi’s face. Makes her look younger. Happier. “I let you guys sleep in.”

“Thanks,” Evan says with a shy smile. He goes to the coffee pot. Grabs a cup from the cabinet. Pours himself some coffee. Adds sugar and milk and then stirs it before he settles into the seat beside Connor. Looks at them expectantly. “So what’s going on?”

* * *

When Evan wakes up properly, he’s alone in his room. He has a vague recollection of telling Connor to borrow a shirt so he could shower, but all in all he knows he’s been kind of out of it. 

Which is stupid, he knows. He should have his guard up, should be prepared for the inevitable fallout of everything that today is going to have to bring. 

He’d just… 

After talking to Connor on the beach the night before, he’d slept  _ well.  _

Like he’d… felt safe, or whatever, which is basically a foreign concept to him, or at least it was until he moved in with Heidi. 

It’s stupid, and it’s a little irresponsible, and Evan knows better, but he’d felt safe with Connor bedside him and Heidi upstairs, like it was okay to let go and just… let himself rest. 

It’s probably not. Things are probably still chaos, and today might be the last time he sees Connor if his parents do decide to send him off to New Hampshire or who knows where. 

A very large part of Evan wants to beg Heidi to do something. So that Connor gets to stay. He wants to beg and plead and demand that she help Connor, the way she helped him. 

But he’s already asked too much of Heidi Herzberg. 

She’s only been around for about a month. Officially his legal guardian for only a couple of weeks. If he pushes too hard, she might change her mind about him. 

It doesn’t make sense for both Evan and Connor to be fucked here. 

Evan’s pretty sure if he could guarantee that Connor would be okay, would be looked after and safe, he’d go back to Chino in a heartbeat. 

That’s…

He doesn’t know what to do with that thought. That feeling, the certainty. 

He’s… definitely never had anyone he’s been so determined to protect before. 

Evan thinks back to what Connor told him about Miguel. How he’d made all these fucking excuses for this kid who let him take the fall and then bailed on him. Hadn’t even appreciated it. 

Connor has a point about rich kids getting away with things, Evan has to admit. 

But it doesn’t make what he did for this Miguel asshole any less significant. 

No wonder Connor seems so fucking lonely. He tried to do something good for someone and it backfired horribly. 

Connor tried to do the right thing last night and got a slap across the face from his mom for it. 

Fuck. 

Evan doesn’t know what he can do. What he can say. 

He just…

He needs Connor to know that even if everyone else is going to be an asshole, Evan’s not going to bail on him. 

If he gets sent to New Hampshire, he’ll call Connor every day until he’s sick of him and asks him to stop. 

He just… 

Doesn’t have the power to do more, he knows. 

He gets out of bed, goes to pee, then washes his hands and heads into the open plan kitchen and dining room where Connor and Heidi are sitting on opposite sides of the table. Connor’s picking at a croissant, drinking black coffee, and Heidi’s nursing her own cup. She smiles when she sees him, this big smile that makes her whole face light up, and Evan feels it somewhere in his chest. 

“G’morning,” Evan says, unable to stop himself from yawning.

He’s still really tired. 

“Afternoon,” Heidi says, her face soft. “I let you guys sleep in.”

Evan can’t help but smile. “Thanks,” he says. He likes it when Heidi smiles at him like that. Like he matters. 

He grabs a cup from the cabinet, then pours himself some coffee and sits next to Connor. Steadies his shoulders. “So what’s going on?”

Connor looks down at his coffee, and Evan can see his hands holding the cup tightly, knuckles going white. In the daylight, the bruise on his face is sickeningly stark.

“Mr. Murphy is going to pick Connor up soon,” says Heidi, and her voice is calm and even. “He’s not in trouble. I’ve talked to Larry, put in my two cents. He knows that this wasn’t Connor’s fault.

Evan wants to believe her, but he’s not sure if he can, because Connor doesn’t look relieved or relaxed or anything like that, he just looks scared and defeated. 

He wants to trust Heidi here, wants to believe she has the best intentions at heart for Connor, but…

She tried to stop them from being friends. 

She doesn’t know that Connor’s mom has hit him before. 

Plus, Evan’s got shitty luck at the best of times. It would just fucking figure for him to finally make a real friend and have him shipped halfway across the country for something that wasn’t his fault. 

This might be the last time he ever sees Connor. 

He wishes they’d had more time. 

They finish their coffee, Connor picking at the croissant more than actually eating it, which makes Evan’s stomach churn. He’s already been trying to figure out ways to make Connor less weird about eating, because he thinks there’s something wrong. 

He knows there’s something wrong. 

Do his parents know there’s something wrong? Will anyone in New Hampshire notice?

Evan hopes so. He wants…

No, he  _ needs  _ Connor to be okay.

Meeting Connor is, like, one of the best things that’s ever happened to him. 

Even if they’ll never see each other in person again, Evan needs him to be okay. 

Once they’re done eating, Evan gets changed quickly and he and Connor go sit on the porch, waiting for Mr. Murphy to arrive. The waves are a little less angry this morning, a little less intense. 

It’s like they’ve done all the raging they can and now they just have to deal with what’s coming next. 

Connor looks out to the waves, his eyes dull. He takes in a shaky breath, then looks at Evan. 

“I might never see you again,” he says, sounding a little breathless. “That would… suck. Really fucking suck.”

“Agreed,” says Evan instantly, frowning, hating how defeated Connor sounds. “But I meant what I said last night, okay?” Connor blinks, looking a little confused, so Evan continues. “I’ll call. If you get sent to New Hampshire, I-I-I’ll call so often that you'll get sick of me.”

Connor almost smiles. He looks at Evan with this expression Evan can’t understand. 

“So that’s literally impossible,” he says after a moment, still with that almost smile, like his mouth can’t decide what it’s doing. “I’ll never get sick of you.”

_ Everyone does, _ taunts the voice in Evan’s head. 

But it’s not the time for him to say that out loud. This isn’t about him. 

This is about Connor. 

“It’s n-not fair,” Evan bursts out. “None of this is f-fucking fair.”

Connor looks at him, and something in his face softens. Goes horribly sad. “We’re both used to things not being fair,” he says, and his voice is so gentle. “You just… promise me you’ll stay out of trouble so you can stick around?”

Evan nods. “Yeah. I can do that, yeah.”

Connor smiles a little sadly. “It’ll probably be easier without me around,” he says, his voice deliberately casual. “Won’t have to keep rescuing me all the time. Defending my honor and all that bullshit.”

Evan actually does laugh at that. “Evan Hansen, white knight,” he jokes. “That’s me.”

Connor looks at him. Really looks at him. 

Evan feels like he’s being x-rayed. 

“Yeah,” he says after a moment. “It is.”

There’s the sound of a door closing, and Connor reacts immediately, like a puppy who’s just been kicked. Evan looks up to see Mr. Murphy walking towards them. 

His heart won’t stop pounding. 

It just won’t stop. 

Heidi’s there, too, and she watches Mr. Murphy with these big, cautious eyes, like she’s trying to figure out if she should just jump in. Demand that he leave, that Connor stay with them. 

Fuck, Evan wishes she would. 

“Connor,” says Mr. Murphy. Connor looks up at his dad, his expression so defeated. “Are you ready to go?”

Connor takes in a deep breath and nods, then stands up. Evan stands up, too, trying to show some kind of solidarity. This stupid, small action that’ll hopefully make Connor feel, even for the smallest of seconds, that he’s not alone. 

“Thank you for letting me stay,” says Connor politely, not looking at Heidi properly. 

Heidi looks so fucking sad. “Of course, sweetheart. Anytime.”

Connor turns to Evan. There’s something in his eyes Evan doesn’t understand. Evan wants to figure out the right thing to say, but he can’t. 

He’s not prepared for Connor to throw his arms around him and pull him into a hug. 

Not prepared at all. 

Connor is only the third person he’s been hugged by since his mom died, and it’s totally different from Heidi’s hugs or the awkward hug he’d shared with Zoe, but Evan likes it. He wraps his arms around Connor as quickly as he can, returning the hug as best he can, even though he doesn’t know how hugs work, he doesn’t know how affection works, he doesn’t even think he knows how being a person works, but he wants Connor to know that he cares. 

The hug is over quickly. 

Evan misses it immediately. 

“I’ll… I’ll call okay?” Evan tells Connor fiercely. 

There’s so much more he wants to say. 

But he doesn’t know how. 

Connor nods. Stares at Evan for a moment. He looks like he might cry. 

“Bye,” he says instead. 

Evan doesn’t know what to say, so he just repeats it back. 

“Bye.”

* * *

Larry hardly sleeps. 

After Heidi took Connor and Evan out of the house and Zoe and her friend were put to bed, Larry found himself staring at his wife while she fumed and raged and rambled about how humiliated she was and that she couldn’t believe Connor would do this to her and Larry. 

Lost his temper. 

Grabbed Cynthia by the shoulders and shouted in her face. 

That Connor didn’t do this. That Connor had called them, called them both multiple times, how if they had been paying attention they might have gotten here sooner. “We fucked up, Cynthia. We left them alone.”

“He’s supposed to take responsibility for his actions!” 

“They’re teenagers, for Christ’s sake! Teenagers! Zoe has been sixteen for a  _ day.  _ We’re the ones who made the mistake here,” Larry thundered and she finally shut up. 

Finally. 

Cynthia’s lip quivered. 

“Are you planning on telling me where you disappeared to tonight?” Larry asked her softly. 

She said nothing. Her chin wobbled. It was probably a bar in all honesty. Larry had gone to see a movie alone. 

Larry gripped her shoulders tighter, until Cynthia looked him in the eye. “If you ever lay a hand on one of our kids again, Cynthia, we’re through.” 

So then Larry had checked on Zoe and her friend. 

Went and slept in the guest bedroom. 

Only, he didn’t really sleep. 

He dozes for a while, but when the sun rises Larry gives up. 

Sets about cleaning up the disaster his house has become. He can’t leave the place like this and wait for Blanca to return on Monday. 

It takes ages to collect all of the trash. Wash all of the water and beer off of the floors. Sweep up the broken glass and other debris. 

It’s noon by the time Larry finishes. 

Zoe and Cynthia still aren’t awake. 

Zoe’s friend is picked up by her mom around twelve fifteen. Sabrina. That’s her name. Larry watches as she pulls out of the driveway and tries to collect himself. 

Heidi’s words are still echoing through his mind. 

_ “Don’t give me that bullshit, Larry. Don’t be fucking sorry I had to see that, be sorry that it  _ happened _.” _

She’s right. 

She’s so right. 

Fuck. 

He pulls his phone out and pulls up Heidi’s number. Larry dials and steels himself, unsure how Heidi will be toward him today. After everything. 

“Larry,” Heidi says. 

“Hi,” He says, feeling sheepish and small. “How is he?” 

Heidi sighs. “Well, he’s got a huge bruise on his face. He’s not good, Larry.”

“Fuck,” Larry says. He scrubs a hand over his face, unsure what to even say to her. “Thank you again for… for taking Connor. I appreciate it.” 

“It was no trouble,” Heidi says. “He’s a good kid, Larry. I was wrong about him. He looks out for Evan, he tried to call you last night -” 

“I know.”

“I just don’t think he should be punished because Zoe made a stupid decision.”

Larry nods to himself. “No. No of course not. He’s not… he’s not in trouble.” He frowns. “Is he awake? Can I talk to him?”

Heidi clears her throat. “He’s taking a shower.” 

“Oh.” 

“Why don’t you come pick him up in an hour or so?” Heidi says softly. “He… I don’t think he’ll accept that you’re not angry with him until you tell him yourself.”

“Alright. You’re right.” Larry takes a deep breath. “Thank you again, Heidi. Truly.”

Larry showers. Changes into casual clothes. Drives his car to Heidi’s beach house a few miles away. Connor is sitting outside with Evan already, his head bowed, nodding along to something Evan is saying to him. 

Connor seems to have a friend. 

Larry’s really fucking grateful for that right now. 

He gets out of the car and heads up toward the house. He can see Connor tense from the second he heard the car door close. Larry’s heart clenches. He knows he’s fucked up here but he doesn’t know what he can do to unfuck up. What he can say to make any of his better. 

Heidi comes out to greet him. Larry feels like he’s being watched by her as he makes his way up the walk to the front door. 

He feels like all three of them are watching him. Like he’s an executioner prepared to take someone to the gallows. Larry hates it. He hates it. 

“Connor,” He says softly when he gets closer. His son looks up at him with these awful, guarded eyes, like he can’t bear to look at Larry straight on. “Are you ready to go?”

He sucks in a breath. Nods. 

Climbs to his feet. Evan stands as well. 

“Thank you for letting me stay,” Connor murmurs, looking at Heidi’s feet. 

“Of course, sweetheart. Anytime.”

Connor turns to Evan and then, suddenly, he throws his arms around him in an awkward and unpracticed hug. Evan looks surprised but recovers fast, wrapping his arms around Connor tightly for a brief moment before Connor lets go just as suddenly as he grabbed on. 

“I’ll… I’ll call okay?” Evan says, something hard in his voice. 

Connor nods, his jaw working hard, his eyes glassy. “Bye.” 

“Bye.”

Connor approaches Larry with caution, like he’s afraid to approach him. 

Larry feels his gut twist harder with guilt. He steps closer to his son and puts an arm around his shoulder. Leads him back to the car, asking in a low voice if Connor’s alright. 

He shrugs. “Can we just… go home please?”

Larry can’t do much, but he can do that. 

He drives them home. Connor’s silent on the ride, picking at his nail polish and staring dully out through the windshield. He looks so… defeated. Like he’s given up any fight that was left inside of him. 

Connor and Larry head into the house. Connor heads to the living room immediately, planting himself in the middle of the sofa, folding his arms across his middle and looking at Larry expectantly. 

Larry’s not sure where to start. 

He opens and closes his mouth a few times. 

Connor breaks first. “Where am I going this time?” He asks, his voice low and defeated and quiet. “Rehab again? Stay with Granny? Vermont?”

Larry flinches at that. “You’re not going anywhere, Connor. You’re not in any trouble. You’re staying right here.”

Connor’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “Are you… you’re not sending Zoe away right?” He asks, sounding panicked. “She’ll hate me more than she already does if you do that please don’t do that.”

“Nobody is going anywhere,” Larry tries to reassure him. 

“Because she’s sixteen, she only  _ just  _ turned sixteen, she’s not even a person yet she doesn’t know better I’m the one that screwed up I’m the one that -”

“Connor,” Larry says, sitting down beside him. Connor’s breathing rapidly and shallowly and his face is turning slowly redder. “Nobody is going anywhere.”

“But last time, last time I fucked up you told me you told me you didn’t want me in your house you told me you -”

Larry had. 

One of the last times Connor had come home at dawn high as a kite. He’d said some rude things to his sister and Larry had snapped at him. Told him if he didn’t knock it off, he wouldn’t be allowed back in the house. 

He hadn’t meant it. 

But he sees now that sending Connor to boarding school a few weeks later might not have communicated that message clearly. 

Fuck. 

Larry reaches out and puts a hand on Connor’s shoulder. “It’s okay, buddy. It’s okay. You can relax. Nobody is going anywhere. We’re all going to stay right here.”

“You’re not sending me away again?” Connor asks in a small voice. 

“No, bud. You’re staying right here, okay?”

Connor blinks wetly, looking unsure. 

“I get to stay?”

Larry swallows hard. 

He hadn’t realized… how much sending Connor to boarding school had hurt him. Larry had been trying to protect him. Get him away from this toxic environment, away from the kids at school who’d sell him drugs and taunt him with the nickname “Quitter.” He had been trying to help but… he and Connor never really talked about that. About why Larry had picked that school so far from home for his son. 

He realizes now that was a mistake. 

He sees now how much he hurt his boy by not letting his guard down a little and explaining why he had done what he had. Larry rubs a hand over his face. “Connor I am so sorry. I… We didn’t send you to Hanover to punish you.”   


Connor looks confused. “But -”

“I wanted to protect you,” Larry presses on. “I wanted to keep you alive and at the end of ninth grade it seemed like you couldn’t if you stayed here.”

“Oh.”

“Connor I… I’m so sorry if you thought... I’m sorry that I wasn’t clear. Buddy, I love you, and I was. I was scared out of my mind for you and I… I fucked up. I really did.”

Something about that seems to break Connor’s remaining resolve. His eyes flood with tears and he swallows hard and looks away. “Mom hates me.” 

Larry takes in a sharp breath. 

“Mom, she… she actually hates me.” Connor’s voice sounds so hollow, so broken yet accepting of his fate that Larry has half a mind to go upstairs and shake Cynthia awake from her hangover and demand she fix things with their son. He gulps, blinking again, two fat tears rolling down Connor’s thin face. “Sh-she hates me, dad. She hates me.” He’s crying earnestly now, his shoulders shaking, these quiet hiccupy noises escaping him. “I know I fucked up before I know I was a m-monster and a fuck up but Mom won’t even look at me. It’s like she regrets that I was born or s-something. She hates me. I bet she wishes you hadn’t found me I bet she wishes-“

“Connor, no,” Larry says, his own throat tightening suddenly. “No. She doesn’t, Connor, she loves you.” Connor’s shoulders collapse and shake and Larry hates it. He hates it. For a wild moment he hates his wife. “No. She doesn’t hate you,” he tries to sound soothing and calm. “But what she did was wrong. Last night… Buddy I am so sorry about that. And I will make sure it never happens again, okay? I won’t let it happen again.”

Connor’s shoulders buckle again and more tears fall and Larry is lost, he is drowning, he doesn’t know what to do. So he wraps his arms around Connor and pulls his son close to his chest like he hasn’t since Connor was very small. And he hates himself for that too. His son nearly died last summer and Larry hasn’t held him. What kind of a parent is he if he can’t comfort his child? 

Connor tries to pull away at first but Larry holds on tight and after a long moment, Connor stops fighting. Stops holding himself so tight and sinks against Larry’s chest. He sobs and Larry doesn’t let go. Doesn’t look away. He lets Connor cry.

He’s so small in Larry’s arms. Too thin. Larry hates it. He resolves to do better. He wraps Connor up tighter, lets his son cry, and decides this ends here and now. He’s not going to let his kid slip away. Not again. Not this time. 

“Everything I do goes wrong,” Connor confesses, his mouth muffled by where it’s pressed against Larry’s chest. “It just always goes wrong no matter how much I fucking  _ try _ .”

“I know Connor,” Larry says, his own voice rough. “I know it must feel like that right now. I’m so sorry.”

“I try so h-hard,” Connor admits. “But I never get it right. I never get any of it right.”

“It’s okay,” Larry says gently. “It’s okay. You’re trying and that… that’s what’s important.”

“Nobody wants me,” Connor whispers. “Nobody will ever-”

“No,” Larry says firmly. “That’s not true Connor. It’s not true.”

But Connor only cries harder and Larry doesn’t dare try to quiet him or shush him. He holds on tight and stays right there.

Connor cries for a while. He’s not loud but he’s not quiet either. As he cries, Larry looks up to see Cynthia standing at the foot of the stairs, her expression troubled. Larry gives her a hard look over Connor’s head. One he hopes will communicate that she should be here too. She should be helping to reassure their son who is hurting so much. 

Cynthia heads back up the stairs.

Larry is devastated all over again. 

“It’s going to be okay,” he tells Connor, having no way of knowing if he’s speaking the truth. But it’s all he can say. “It’s going to be okay.”

* * *

Connor is humiliated for breaking down in front of his dad. Utterly humiliated. It’s mortifying to be so  _ weak  _ in front of him. Over basically nothing. So his mom hit him and yelled at him. 

It’s barely a thing. 

It’s not like with Evan’s asshole dad. It’s not like that at all. 

Connor shouldn’t be complaining. 

It’s happened before but it’s not like… a huge deal. He’s being dramatic. 

His dad isn’t acting like that’s the case though. Which bugs Connor for whatever reason. 

He sleeps for a while in the afternoon because he’s honestly exhausted. Despite his dad promising not to throw him out again, Connor’s not terribly optimistic. He does his best to stay out of everyone’s way for most of the day. 

But eventually his throat is dry and he needs to get some water. Connor listens at his bedroom door for almost ten minutes to be certain the coast is clear and when he’s certain he hasn’t heard any movement in a while, he quietly steps out into the hall and scurries down the stairs. 

He goes into the kitchen and pours himself a glass of water. Connor gulps it all down immediately and then pours a second. 

He takes a single sip before he hears the scrape of a chair against the floor in the dining room. 

He’s caught. 

Shit. Fuck. Shit. 

Connor tries to quietly escape through the kitchen, thinking he’ll just avoid the dining room entirely, when he hears his mother’s voice. 

“Connor,” she says coolly, her voice just loud enough to be heard. 

Damn. Damn it. 

He takes his glass of water and heads into the dining room. 

His mom is sitting alone at the table. She looks like shit. Connor realizes that she’s hungover. 

He doesn’t know what to do with that information. 

“Sit down sweetheart,” His mom says in this voice that sends a chill up Connor’s spine. 

He sits automatically, his brain stupidly thinking of that curse  _ Imperio  _ in Harry Potter which makes people do whatever they’re commanded. 

“Last night… was not great,” His mom says after a pregnant pause. 

_ Yeah no shit.  _

“I apologize for losing my temper,” she says. Her face pulls into the picture of apologetic. She looks sincere. “I handled that badly.”

Connor blinks a few times. “Okay.”

“I was thinking maybe during the week, you and I could go shopping,” she goes on. “You need some new clothes.”

Connor feels his heart sink. “I… I don’t know if I want to, like, go to the mall. Or whatever.”

Something flickers over his mom’s face. “Of course sweetie. Why don’t I just pick a few things up for you then?” She flashes him a smile. It makes his jaw clench. The bruise on his cheek throbs. “What size do you think you need now? A girl’s size three?”

Connor’s mouth is extremely dry. 

He stupidly wants to yell for his dad. 

“Your nail polish is chipping.”

Connor glances at his fingernails. 

He had picked quite a bit of it off last night. 

“How about you go get the polish you’re using and some nail polish remover, and I’ll do them for you. So they look nice for school.”

Connor can’t believe he’s hearing this. 

But he nods and finds himself hurrying up the stairs to fetch the bottles. Connor returns to the table with his supplies and his mom has fetched her own from… somewhere. 

She nods for him to take a seat next to her. She takes a cotton ball and removes the chipping polish from his fingernails. Connor holds back a hiss of pain when some of the acetone burns one of his ripped cuticles. 

She then pours something on each of his cuticles from a small bottle. Pushes the skin back with a tiny wooden stick. Wipes the stuff off with a tissue. 

Without asking him, his mom starts clipping his fingernails. She produces a nail file and starts to file down the jagged and sharp edges with an almost clinical efficiency. “You should really try to keep your fingernails a little shorter,” she says to him. 

“Oh?”

“Bacteria can live under them,” she says, all factual. She finishes filing and begins to use a small rectangle to buff them until they’re shiny and smooth. 

Connor keeps having to resist the urge to yank his hands away. 

He doesn’t know why. His mom is being nice. 

She applies a base coat. Lets it dry and then applies two coats of the shiny black polish. It’s much more even and steady than when Connor does it himself. 

She lets the polish dry a little and adds a shiny topcoat. “If you do them properly, they’ll last longer,” she says, using the little wooden stick to wipe away a little of the clear polish which has spilled onto his cuticle. 

“Okay,” Connor says stupidly. 

He looks at his nails as they dry. They look… nice. Really nice. 

His mom is regarding him coolly. “I know it would be a real shame if people at school found out about our little incident last night,” she says. “I think you and I can agree that we would rather not have people talking.”

Connor nods slowly, not sure what it is his mom wants to hear. 

“Good,” she says sweetly. She gets up, and places a hand under his jaw. Turns his face and he realizes suddenly that she’s inspected the bruise she left there. 

“Mom?” He says hoarsely. 

His mom regards him dispassionately and releases his face. 

Connor swallows uncomfortably. 

“It would be a real shame if you had to go away again,” she says in this soft voice. “Don’t you think?”

Connor stares. 

He nods. 

“Good,” she says. “And you’ll let your father know we talked?”

Connor nods again. 

“Very good.” She leans in and presses a kiss to Connor’s injured cheek. 

He almost yelps in pain. 

His mom packs up her nail supplies and disappears into the craft room/yoga studio/storage room. 

Connor hurries up the stairs as fast as he can, his heart pounding. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from "My Heart Is the Worst Kind of Weapon" by Fall Out Boy.
> 
> Fic title is from "Camisado" by Panic! at the Disco


	16. My Reputation's On the Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoe does some damage control and tries to keep it real.

Zoe desperately wants to skip school on Monday. 

Or like. Get extensive plastic surgery and relocate to Europe and change her name or something because she’s positive she’s tanked her reputation forever after this weekend. 

Fuck. 

Heidi Herzberg is such a meddling busybody. She went and called half of the parents of kids at the party and narced on them. Zoe’s phone has been ringing nonstop with people who got themselves grounded or worse for attending her birthday. Madison is super pissed. Her parents took Tommy’s car keys. 

Zoe knows that skipping school is actually a mistake. If she’s not there people will know it’s because she’s embarrassed and hiding out, so she can’t actually do that. Zoe makes sure to get dressed in her cutest outfit, do her hair up in curls, and wear a full face of makeup. It’s armor for going into battle. 

Today is going to be hell. 

Starting with getting to school. 

“I’ll just take the bus,” Zoe says to her mom over breakfast. Her mom looks like she could have an aneurysm on the spot. 

She slams her coffee mug on the table. “You will absolutely not, young lady. Do you have any idea how dangerous school buses are? Not to mention the people who take the bus.” She shivers like she’s describing a colony of lepers. “Absolutely not. You ask your brother for a ride.”

“Mom, no way!” Zoe says. The only thing worse than taking the bus would be showing up with her asshole brother who ruined her party. 

“Well I’m not driving you,” Her mom says. “I have pilates today.”

Zoe could scream. 

She stomps back up the stairs, clutching the straps of her backpack and hesitates outside of Connor’s bedroom door. She stares at the “PRIVATE PROPERTY” sign that Connor stole in eighth grade. He had been so proud of stealing that from a neighbor’s backyard. 

Zoe takes a deep breath and then knocks three times rapidly. She just wants to get this over with. 

Connor opens the door. Zoe’s surprised to see it looks a little like he’s almost made an effort with his whole emo-loser look. He’s wearing black jeans, a t-shirt that reads “Panic! at the Disco” with bright blue and pink shapes on it that look a little like rhinos or something. He’s got on a new belt too, black leather with metal studs. It even looks like he’s brushed his hair. 

He’s got a bruise on his cheek. Zoe’s not sure where it came from. Her memories of the party get sort of hazy at the end. 

“Uh. Hi?” Connor says, scrunching up his nose. 

Zoe barely pretends to smile. “Mom says you have to drive me to school.”

Connor raises his eyebrows for a second. “Why can’t Madison and Tommy drive you?”

Zoe wants to scream. 

“Nevermind,” Connor says. “Sure, yeah. You ready?”

Zoe nods. 

Connor grabs his keys and they head down the steps and out the door. Zoe gets into Connor’s car, putting on her sunglasses and sinking low into the seat. 

Connor backs out of the driveway slowly at the same approximate time as Heidi’s car. Connor smiles awkwardly at Heidi and Evan in the car and waves a little. 

Zoe sinks further into her seat. 

This is a fucking nightmare. 

“Did you… we could stop at Starbucks on the way?” Connor says suddenly. “I know today’s -”

“No,” Zoe says shortly. 

She doesn’t want him to be fucking nice to her after he embarrassed her on Saturday. Zoe wants to pretend like he doesn’t exist. 

She’s so fucking mad at him. He didn’t need to call their parents. He didn’t need to rope Evan in on his little freak out, and he definitely didn’t need to get Heidi involved. It’s just like him too. He’s not having fun so nobody else can. 

It’s bullshit that he freaked out. 

He’s done way worse shit than Zoe having a fucking party. 

He used to come home high all the time. He used to rage and scream and break shit and he nearly killed her once, Zoe was sure he was going to kill her before their dad got involved. 

And he thinks he’s got the fucking high ground to cancel her party. 

And take Evan with him. 

When they arrive at school, Evan gets out of Heidi’s car and comes around to Connor’s car to the driver’s side. The pair of them grin at each other stupidly, all big happy smiles and Zoe wants to throw something. Spit in one or both of their faces. Give her brother a matching bruise for his other cheek. 

Like that pisses Zoe off so much. That Connor left with Evan the night of the party, stole him away. That the two of them are, like, friends or whatever. It’s not fucking fair to Zoe. 

Connor, he’s… he’s just such an asshole. Connor never lets Zoe have anything. Nothing of her own. She likes a boy and Connor decides to make the first friend he’s had in years. 

It’s bullshit. 

Connor probably likes Evan. 

Zoe’s pretty sure Connor’s fucking gay. He’s never denied it when people have accused him of being a faggot. He’s never liked any girls as far as Zoe can tell. 

That’s probably what’s happening. Connor likes Evan. He likes him. 

That’s just… 

It’s not fucking fair. Zoe never gets to have anything and she fucking saw Evan first. 

It doesn’t really matter because, like, Evan obviously isn’t gay for Connor. He stares at Zoe’s tits enough. Evan’s clearly into chicks. 

But he also seems to  _ like  _ Connor and that’s bullshit. 

Zoe needs to, like. Do something about that. She likes Evan and still wants to, like, hang out with him but she can’t justify it if he’s still all buddy buddy with her gay ass freak brother. Especially now after this disaster of a party. 

She needs to like. 

Break them up or something. 

Zoe doesn’t know. 

Maybe she should just give up on the idea of this thing with Evan going anywhere. She likes the way he looks at her but it’s… complicated and messy. He’s not just friends with Connor, he also punched Brian and Chad. And Jared. He doesn’t make things easy on himself, and while Zoe thinks the lack of conformity is kind of sexy… it’s a step too far to befriend Connor. 

Maybe she ought to just. Let Connor have him. It’s not like Zoe doesn’t have enough garbage to worry about right now. 

But god. She just can’t stand the idea of letting Connor have  _ another  _ thing that she can’t have. It’s not fair that he always manages to steal things out from right under her nose. 

It’s not fair and Zoe’s not going to take it.

* * *

Heidi spends most of Sunday trying not to just go next door and demand that Cynthia Murphy sort out her shit. Tell her and Larry that they absolutely under no circumstances are to ship Connor off again. 

She didn’t mean to eavesdrop on Evan and Connor, she really didn’t, but she hadn’t been able to help it. And now she’s even more devastated than she was about the situation before. Connor seems so certain his parents will kick him out, and Heidi isn’t sure they won’t. 

If they do, she will never fucking forgive Larry. 

Cynthia’s a write-off in Heidi’s eyes, has been since everything that happened after David died, but Larry? 

She expects better from Larry. 

If he lets Cynthia call the shots on this one, if he lets her come down harder on him that she already has, Heidi’s pretty sure she’s going to go nuclear. 

Just completely lose it. 

Stupid rich assholes who can’t parent their kids properly, who care more about appearances that their fucking wellbeing, she can’t fucking  _ stand  _ it. 

Evan’s just… sad. Sad and quiet and withdrawn. He sits quietly at the kitchen table, does his homework and occasionally looks out the window, his expression so devastated Heidi wants to scream. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Heidi assures Evan at dinner. “Connor’s going to be okay.”

Evan seems smaller than usual, his shoulders sagging. He doesn’t say much throughout the meal, but when Heidi suggests they go get gelato for dessert, he nods. 

The ride to the gelateria is quiet for the most part. They’re about halfway there when Evan looks at Heidi, something helpless in his expression. 

“They’re not being fair,” he says, his voice stronger than she expects it to be. “No one is being fair to Connor. He… he tries to do the right thing and his mom  _ hits  _ him and Zoe screams at him, tells him she hates him in front of everyone.” Heidi just stares at Evan in shock, and he holds his chin high, frowning. “It’s not fair.”

Heidi doesn’t get much sleep that night and on Monday morning, she’s practically vibrating with anger at the situation. Evan seems to pick up on it at breakfast and seems more than a little uneasy. 

He’s got dark circles under his eyes. Heidi’s willing to bet he didn’t sleep last night either, because he was up all night worrying about his friend. 

Fucking rich assholes. 

When she and Evan drive down their part of the driveway to head to school, Heidi is fucking relieved when she sees Connor’s car pull ahead of her. He waves a little awkwardly, like he’s sorry he cut her off, but she’s so relieved to see that he’s in his car on the way to school that she doesn’t fucking care. 

In the passenger seat, Zoe’s sitting there, clearly annoyed. She’s wearing sunglasses and she’s slinking into her seat like she’s embarrassed to be seen with her brother, which Heidi is starting to suspect is the case. 

She’s trying to remind herself that Zoe’s just turned sixteen, that she’s a stupid kid with parents who don’t seem to be doing much parenting, and that Heidi being annoyed at her isn’t going to change anything. 

At least Connor and Zoe are going to school. 

Connor and Zoe are driving in front of Heidi the whole way to school, and part of Heidi feels like maybe she should ask Connor if he’d be okay to take Evan to school sometimes. Evan would probably like it if he didn’t have to always be dropped off by her.

He’s still sixteen. He’s allowed to find her kind of embarrassing. 

Hell, it’s probably encouraged. It’ll give him some kind of vaguely normal teenage experience. 

Evan sits there quiet throughout the drive, and she can tell how completely relieved he is. When they both park, Evan says a hurried goodbye to Heidi, then gets out of the car and walks around the driver’s side of Connor’s car. 

Connor’s barely out before they’re both smiling. Just standing there a little awkwardly with big huge smiles on their faces. 

Heidi knows she’s smiling, too. 

The work day is busy. She’s still on the back foot because she didn’t get through as much as she should have on the weekend, but she’s going to pick Evan up from school and hang out with him this evening so she’s going to have to just work through her lunch break and do the best she can. 

Around midday, someone knocks on the door of her office. She looks up and is more than a little taken aback to see Larry Murphy standing there with what looks like a bag of Chinese food. 

“Is it okay if we talk?” asks Larry, stepping into the office and closing the door. 

Heidi fights down the urge to tell the guy to fuck off and gestures for him to take a seat. “It’ll have to be quick,” she tells him, trying not to sound like she’d be quite happy to turn his balls into artisan jewellery right now. 

Larry nods, and sits down at her desk. Pulls out a container of orange chicken and a bag of vegetarian spring rolls. 

Her frosty demeanor melts a little. She can tell she got them from Eddie’s, and that place was always her favorite. David had been more partial to Fong’s, but she and Larry had shared an affinity for its competitor. 

She worked with Larry for close to 20 years. 

As pissed off as she is with him at the moment, there was a time she considered him family. 

Which just makes this so much worse.

“Saw Connor and Zoe driving to school,” Heidi says as she helps herself to a spring roll. “Didn’t think they usually drove together.”

Larry’s face clouds over. “Had a chat with Anders Whittington yesterday afternoon. We discussed the party at length, and long story short, Tommy doesn’t have his car, so he and Madison have to get the bus.”

Heidi has to admit she’s a little pleased about that. Considering that yesterday afternoon, she’d spent a couple of hours going through her mental list of rich assholes who needed to hear just what their offspring were up to the night before and making some phone calls. 

“Zoe isn’t taking the bus,” Heidi can’t help but point out. 

“Cynthia doesn’t think it’s safe,” Larry says, a little helplessly. 

“So instead Connor has to take her to school,” Heidi says again, not bothering to hide her irritation. “Even though Zoe told a house full of people that she hated him.”

Larry visibly recoils. His eyes widen. “I’ll talk to her about it,” he promises. 

Heidi just looks at him. “And what will that accomplish, exactly?”

Larry hangs his head. Stabs at some fried rice, not looking at her. 

Heidi’s so mad she could spit. She wants to yell at him so much that it’s making her dizzy. She opens her mouth, about to give this asshole a piece of her mind, when Larry speaks first. 

“I fucked up with Connor,” he says, his voice heavy. “Last year. I fucked up so, so badly, and I’m only just starting to understand how much. I’m terrified I’m fucking up Zoe, too.”

Heidi holds her tongue. Holds her breath. 

Waits for him to continue. 

“Cynthia’s not there,” he continues, his voice shaking a little. “She’s… she’s drinking all the time, she acts like Zoe can do no wrong and Connor can do no right and it’s tearing us all apart.”

“I’m well aware of how fucked up your wife is,” Heidi says acidly. She knows they don’t talk about this, knows it’s not going to help, but she can’t help it, she has to say what they’ve been politely ignoring for nearly a year. “Do you expect _sympathy_ from me, Larry? Your wife hired a private investigator to follow me around for three months because _she_ thought I killed my husband!”

Larry’s looking at her now, his eyes big and wide and helpless, and he looks so much like his son it makes Heidi want to scream, because it’s making her feel bad and Larry fucking Murphy does not deserve her sympathy. 

“I’m so sorry,” Larry says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry that happened.”

“Cynthia doesn’t work,” Heidi spits out. “Sure, she’s got all of her inheritance from her parents, but that’s all tied up in real estate. And that PI costs a small fortune. We both know that. So how did you not see it happening? How did you not notice? You and David were friends. We treated you like  _ family _ . I was alone, and in mourning, and I thought I was going crazy for three whole months because I knew I was being watched!” Now that she’s started, she can’t stop. “I lost my husband. And the people I thought I could trust to have my back during the worst thing to ever happen to me made me think I was losing my mind!”

Larry just looks at her, his eyes big and scared, so much like Connor’s on Saturday night, and it’s infuriating, because Connor is a barely seventeen year old kid and Larry is a goddamn adult. 

“What the hell do you want from me, Larry?” she demands. 

Larry blinks. His next words are so small. 

“I need your help.”

Heidi shakes her head, trying to reset her brain like an Etch-a-Sketch. “What?”

Larry leans in. Shrinks in on himself, so much like his son. “You’ve been a parent for ten seconds,” he says, his voice heavy, “and you’re  _ better  _ at it than me. I need your help.” He blinks. Sighs. “I don’t know what to do.”

* * *

“You’re full of shit,” Heidi tells Larry, disbelief evident in her tone. 

“I’m serious,” Larry says and he is. He  _ is.  _ “I mean, my god Heidi, you took in a kid with a record and he’s turned into a model citizen in less than a month. “

“That’s not me,” Heidi argues, her brow furrowing. “Evan’s a good kid who just needed… a chance. “

“But he talks to you,” Larry points out. Because he knows this. It’s evident in the way Heidi talks about him. She knows Evan. She knows what’s going on with him, knows what he needs. “I can’t get Zoe to have a single conversation with me. And Connor?” He thinks back to the day before, Connor breaking down in front of him. “He’s so hot or cold with me. He tells me nothing or he… or it all comes out when he’s upset.”

“I…” Heidi looks conflicted. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

_ Tell me how the hell you do it,  _ Larry thinks.  _ Tell me what I’m doing wrong here.  _

“I guess. I. I just try to be honest with Evan?” She says, looking at Larry with this frustrated expression. “I don’t sugarcoat stuff or. Or try to scare him?”

Larry nods. He feels like he ought to be taking notes. Honesty. What a concept. 

“If it were you… if Zoe was your kid…?” 

Heidi laughs. “She would be grounded. Until college. Possibly longer.”

Larry doesn’t laugh. He’s not joking around here. He’s dead serious. 

“But seriously, Larry, are there consequences for her doing this?” Heidi asks. 

He swallows uncomfortably. No. The honest answer is no. Other than her friends not being able to drive her to school, there has been nothing. 

“Well I… I. She won’t even talk to me. I don’t think grounding her will help,” Larry mutters. 

“You’re the adult here,” Heidi says reasonably. “Of course she won’t  _ like _ it. But you need to show her that this is unacceptable behavior.” 

Larry frowns. “Connor’s done worse,” he says reasonably. 

“Yeah and you sent him to  _ boarding school, _ ” Heidi returns. 

“That wasn’t… it wasn’t supposed to be a punishment,” Larry says helplessly. “It was supposed to help him.” He looks down at his food, suddenly not having much of an appetite. 

“So you tell him that. And apologize that your intentions weren’t met,” Heidi says. “Come on, Larry, this isn’t rocket science. He’s seventeen. Zoe’s sixteen. You can afford a little honesty with your kids.”

The fact is that Larry wanted an easier answer. He wanted Heidi to tell him about a… wonder drug or a Jedi Mind Trick or something simple. 

The Murphys aren’t talkers. 

If they were, then Cynthia wouldn’t be trying to drink herself into oblivion and Connor wouldn’t be starving himself and Zoe wouldn’t be having some kind of identity crisis. 

He should fire his therapist, Larry thinks bitterly. That woman has never been half as frank with him as Heidi is. 

“I’m sorry,” Larry says again. “About all of it. Cynthia… she was horribly out of line last year. I should have done more to… rein her in. And about this weekend.”

Heidi nods. 

“I know it’s not an excuse, but… until they were in high school, Cynthia just. She handled most of the...”  _ Parenting.  _ “Most of the hard stuff.” 

Heidi nods. “I’m sorry.”

“I feel totally out of my depth.”

“And you think I don’t?” Heidi retorts with a wry smile. “My kid’s a felon.”

“Hey. You got it down to a misdemeanor,” Larry says, trying to smile. 

“Yeah,” Heidi says. She’s smiling fondly. She does it every time she talks about Evan. 

They’re quiet for a moment. “So he’s your kid now?” Larry ventures. 

Heidi’s cheeks go pink. “I… yeah. I guess. I want him to be at least.” Some of the light in her eyes dims. “I know I’m not his mom…”

“You’re what he needs right now,” Larry says. “Isn’t that the important thing?”

When Larry gets home, he finds Zoe in her room on the phone. It sounds like she’s arguing with someone, saying, “Well how the fuck was I supposed to know Heidi Herzberg was going to butt in and break up the party?”

“Zoe,” Larry says to her, trying to get her attention. 

“Hang on,” she mutters into the phone. Puts it to her chest. “What?” She says to Larry, her tone hostile. 

Larry feels anger flare inside him. “Hang up the phone. Now.”

Zoe rolls her eyes. Puts the phone back to her ear, ignoring him. “Listen Maddie, you know I-”

“Zoe,” Larry snaps. “Hang up right now.”

“Dad back off,” she returns. “I’m not-”

Larry reaches out and takes the phone from her. “Sorry Madison, Zoe needs to go,” he says smoothly before hitting the END button. 

“Dad what the hell?” Zoe yelps. 

“We need to talk,” he says. She crosses her arms and looks away from him. “This party on Saturday was not okay, Zoe.”

“It’s not even a big deal,” she says snottily. “It’s not like I threw an orgy, God.”

“You might as well have,” Larry says. “The amount of condoms Blanca and I emptied out of the trash.”

Zoe’s cheeks go red but she says nothing. 

“And the drinking,” Larry goes on. “And don’t try to lie to me and say there weren’t drugs in this house.” She doesn’t deny it. “That won’t happen again.”

“Yeah, okay, Jesus,” Zoe says. 

Larry straightens his shoulders. “You’re grounded for two weeks,” he goes on. “No parties. No going out. Your brother will drive you to and from school. And I’ll be hanging on to your phone.”

“Oh my god you can’t do that!” Zoe shouts. “That’s not fair!”

“I can and I am,” Larry says sternly. 

“This is bullshit! Connor used to come home high all of the time and this never happened to him!”

“Your brother has more than paid for that I think,” Larry says darkly. “And you owe him an apology for how you spoke to him in front of all of your friends.” 

“What? No! How is that fair?”

“You know how hard of a time Connor has had at school,” Larry goes on. “You were cruel on purpose. I’m not going to stand for that. I’m not going to stand for you putting yourself and your brother both at risk.”

“Oh fuck off, nothing even happened at the party! Nobody got like. Hurt?”

“But someone might have,” Larry says. “And you need to learn some responsibility.”

“Homecoming is in two weeks!” Zoe protests. 

“Guess you’ll be missing it,” Larry says even as everything inside him telling him to be more lenient. He pockets the phone. 

“You’re being unreasonable!”

“Because you were so reasonable when you threw a rager in my house,” Larry says shortly. “We can talk more about this when you’re prepared to take responsibility for your actions. I might reconsider homecoming  _ if  _ you apologize to Connor.”

“Fuck this!” Zoe screams, throwing a pillow angrily. “I hate you!”

Larry doesn’t rise to the bait. He lets her scream. Closes the door and takes her phone with him.

* * *

Zoe has never been grounded in her life and she frankly fucking hates it. It’s not helping her to get out ahead of the fallout of her party. 

The one blessing in all of this shit is that being grounded means it’s pretty easy to ignore and avoid Sabrina. They don’t have any classes together and if Zoe hides out in one of the band practice rooms during lunch she can completely pretend Sabrina doesn’t exist. 

Which is precisely what Zoe is doing because like. Sabrina is being weird. She keeps giving Zoe these big eyed looks in the hallways and Zoe so does not want to get into it. 

So they made out. 

They were drunk. It’s not a big deal. Sabrina needs to stop looking at her like it’s a thing. It’s not a thing. There were boys and Zoe was able to make out with Brian after. She saw Sabrina disappear for a while with Luke from Zoe’s chem class too. It worked out for both of them. 

So Sabrina can calm the fuck down. 

Zoe likes the practice rooms. They have awesome acoustics. She’s not  _ in  _ band of course because she’s trying to actually have friends, but sometimes she messes around with the electric guitars that the school put out in the practice rooms because of a sudden interest among all the dudes to like “start a band.”

Zoe will never tell anybody about the electric guitar thing. She only has an acoustic at home, and frankly that’s embarrassing enough. 

Only guys play the electric guitar. Guys and weird girls with like. Nose rings and a thousand piercings and dyed black hair. People Connor would hang out with if he wasn’t so busy stealing Evan’s attention from her. 

But sometimes in private, Zoe likes messing with the electric guitars. There’s a Fender that got donated by some parent or whatever that she really likes. It’s surprisingly heavy in her hands. She’ll practice, like, runs and whatever. She’s been experimenting with learning some covers. Prince and some other old school shit like Gun ‘N Roses. So she learned the guitar solo “Smells Like Teen Spirit.” Sometimes she sings while she plays. Whatever. It’s not like anybody knows. 

She’s goofing around with some Beatles shit (thank god) when Sabrina corners her in a practice room on Wednesday. 

“Uh,” Zoe says, feeling caught and immediately stopping. She puts the guitar down fast like she can cover her weirdness if she isn’t like holding the guitar. 

Sabrina smiles at her strangely. “Hi. I didn’t know you played.”

“I don’t,” Zoe says fast. 

“You just were,” Sabrina says like Zoe’s a bit stupid. “You were playing Eight Days A Week.”

Zoe feels her cheeks burn.  _ “Ooh I need your love girl…”  _ Shit fuck damn it. Damn it. 

“What’s up?” Zoe says brightly like she can just pretend the last few seconds didn’t happen. 

Sabrina shuts the door. Takes a seat in one of the chairs. She’s wearing a plaid skirt today that showcases her thighs. Zoe wouldn’t be that brave if she was Sabrina. Her thighs aren’t like fat it whatever but they definitely touch and they’re sort of. Muscular. 

It’s a cute skirt though. 

“About your party…” Sabrina says. 

Zoe wants to leave immediately. 

“Are you okay? Is your brother? Things got kinda intense at the end there,” Sabrina says. She looks nervous. 

“I’m fine. Pretty sure Connor’s his usual self, only now he’s given people another reason to hate him,” Zoe says, shrugging. 

Sabrina tilts her head slightly. “I mean with your mom.” She says. “She really went off on Connor.”

Zoe vaguely remembers some yelling but she was definitely puking by the time her parents got there. She shrugs. “I dunno I was pretty out of it. What did my mom say?”

Sabrina’s eyes go massive. “She slapped him pretty hard. Like I thought I saw him with a bruise on his face.”

Zoe swallows uncomfortably. She doesn’t remember that happening. She assumed he had gotten into it with Brian again or something. 

“He’s fine,” Zoe says defiantly. She thinks about her dad telling her owes Connor an apology. She doesn’t want to think about it. 

“So… Saturday was kinda weird?” Sabrina says awkwardly. 

“Yeah, I was pretty drunk,” Zoe says crossing her arms over her chest. 

“I mean that game of chicken?” Sabrina says something off about her tone. 

Zoe shrugs. She is pleading with every deity she can think of that Sabrina won’t mention the kiss. 

No luck. 

“I mean. We kinda. Made out?”

Zoe shrugs again. “Yeah I mean. There were guys…”

“Yeah,” Sabrina says, looking embarrassed now. She looks down at her toes. She’s wearing flip flops and Zoe can see her toenails are painted a bright yellow. Like the color of her bathing suit. 

That she took off in front of Zoe. 

Shit. 

“Sorry, I gotta…” Zoe says suddenly. 

“Are we… Zoe…”

Zoe doesn’t listen. She gets up and leaves the practice room, saying, “Maybe don’t mention this to Madison?”

And then she’s gone. 

At the end of the day, Connor finds Zoe by her locker. She’s immediately annoyed. “Can’t you just meet me at your car?” She snaps at him when she spots him lurking. 

Connor’s mouth opens like he’s going to say something rude to her, but then his eyes go full and he just mutters, “Fine.” Stalks off like a kid about to throw a tantrum. 

Zoe closes her locker. 

Notices that Evan’s watching her from down the hall. So he saw that. 

Whatever. She can’t even deal with him right now. His weird thing with Connor. 

Zoe leaves the school. Takes her sweet time getting out to the parking lot. She just. The ten minute ride with Connor is going to be a nightmare. She hates riding to school with him. 

Despite her best efforts to wait until the parking lot clears, Zoe sees Madison from the bus window as she’s getting into Connor’s car. Madison immediately slides the bus window down and shouts some garbage like, “Have fun riding with Quitter, Murph!”

Zoe wants to kill her. 

She sinks low in her seat and puts on her sunglasses. “Can you please, like,  _ go? _ ” She says to Connor. 

Connor puts his car in reverse. Hits play on his iPod and the car fills with eerie guitar and Zoe feels her face heat up. 

_ God,  _ Connor is so embarrassing. 

He’s playing fucking Evanescense. Zoe is going to kill him. Of course he’d play this. Remind her of her freaky obsession when she was like thirteen. The two of them loved this band. Used to like sing along to it in the car with their mom who would complain about the noise before he fucked off to Hanover. 

_ “I tried to kill the pain but only brought more.” _

Zoe hates him. She hates him she hates him she hates him. She reaches out and shuts the car stereo off. 

“God Connor you are  _ such  _ a fucking  _ freak, _ ” Zoe hisses. 

She sees him clench his jaw tight. 

For a second she’s terrified he’s going to like. Crash the car or whatever just to ruin her life some more. 

He doesn’t. 

He just keeps clenching his jaw off and on the whole silent ride home. 

Good. 

Good, Zoe thinks. She can’t stand him. 

When they get home, Connor sees their mom in the kitchen and hurries up to his room. Slams the door. 

Good. 

Their mom is pouring herself a glass of wine.  _ Starting before five. Nice,  _ Zoe thinks bitterly. 

“How was school?” Her mom asks. 

“Horrible,” Zoe complains. “I can’t believe you’re making me ride with  _ him. _ ”

Her mom clicks her tongue sympathetically. Deposits herself in a chair at the dining room table. Zoe sits with her, wanting to complain more. 

“Everyone is so pissed off at me,” she goes on. “It’s… stupid.”

Her mom gives her a bland smile. “Well. Now you know better.”

Zoe doesn’t understand. She gives her mom a look. 

“Big parties like that are for other people to throw,” Her mom says. “You can attend them but you should never put yourself at risk by throwing them. It stinks of desperation.”

Zoe’s jaw drops. “It was my birthday.”

“Then that little skank Madison should have put a party together for you. At  _ her _ house.”

Zoe feels her cheeks flame. “I…”

“You need to be smarter than this,” her mom says after a long sip of wine. “We’re not like those trashy people at your school. We have class.” Something makes a noise from upstairs in Connor’s room and her mom narrows her eyes. “Or at least I thought that’s how I raised you.”

Zoe’s so embarrassed she could cry. “I don’t know how to… fix it.”

Her mom looks thoughtful. Drinks some more wine. “You need to do damage control,” she says evenly. 

Zoe nods. “How do I do that?”

Her mom gives her a pained looking smile. “Things move quickly around here, but people have long memories.” 

Zoe swallows uncomfortably. 

“So make nice, be polite, keep out of trouble and keep your enemies close,” her mom says. Like she’s bestowing some ancient wisdom. 

Zoe nods. 

Thinks to herself that it makes sense. It’s probably why Heidi has lived next door all of these years. Zoe’s figured out by now that her mom never really liked Heidi. She tolerated her because of David. 

That makes a lot of fucking sense. 

“Okay,” Zoe says. She gets up and goes up to her bedroom. She has a Gucci dress in her closet that she’s never worn that Madison has been eyeing for ages. It’s still got the tags on. Maddie complained when Zoe got it that now she could never have it because they couldn’t, like, match. 

Zoe bought it in part because she didn’t want Maddie to have it. 

She finds a nice gift bag. And a card from her mom’s craft supplies. She writes an apology note to Madison for getting her into trouble. Puts a lot of effort into it. Showing how sorry she is. 

Ends the note with,  _ “I want you to have this dress. It looked better on you in the store anyway.”  _

Zoe nods to herself. She can do this.

* * *

Heidi’s in her home office working on case files on Wednesday evening when she hears the doorbell ring. She’s a little taken aback. She’s not expecting anyone, and it’s not like people make a lot of social calls to her place these days. 

She heads down the stairs and opens the front door to find Zoe Murphy standing there, holding a box. She fixes Heidi with a bright smile, a smile Heidi recognizes as the ‘impressing the adults’ smile. 

“Zoe, hi,” says Heidi, trying to be polite and remind herself that this is a sixteen year old kid, that it’s not fair for her to be quite as mad at her as she is. 

“Hi Heidi,” says Zoe, and she meets Heidi’s gaze head on, doesn’t shy away. She hands her the box. “This is for you. As an apology for what happened last weekend. I am so sorry things got out of control, it was totally irresponsible of me.”

Heidi just looks at the box for a moment, then takes it. “Do you want to come inside?” she asks. 

Zoe hesitates, then nods. Kicks off her flip flops and follows Heidi to the kitchen. Heidi puts the box on the counter then opens it to reveal what looks like a pineapple and coconut cake. 

Heidi feels a weird twist in her chest. She hates both pineapple and coconut. 

“I know you have a sweet tooth,” Zoe says, by way of explanation. “And this cake is apparently really good. They’re always selling out. This is their most popular flavor at the moment - it’s a piña colada cake.” 

“That’s very thoughtful,” says Heidi. “Thank you, sweetheart.” She forces a hopefully convincing smile. “I just brushed my teeth a while ago so I might have a piece later, but if you want some, go ahead.”

Zoe shakes her head. “I’m good, thanks.” 

They stand there awkwardly for a moment. Heidi has absolutely no idea what to say. 

She’s always liked Zoe. Thought she was a good kid. David had always doted over Connor, being his godfather, but Heidi had always secretly preferred Zoe. Zoe had been this sweet, kind of offbeat kid, who liked singing and playing her guitar and writing her own songs and Heidi had always found that incredibly cute. 

Heidi remembers Zoe’s pet gerbil dying when she was about eight and how upset she’d been. So upset that she’d thrown an elaborate funeral to mourn the passing of poor little Ice Cream. Heidi and David had received a hand-delivered, hand-crafted invitation to attend the ceremony and they’d both spent the whole time trying not to laugh at this eight-year-old earnestly singing ‘My Heart Will Go On’ while Connor solemnly threw dirt on the tiny cardboard coffin. 

This sixteen-year-old standing in front of her feels so far away from that kid. 

It makes something inside of her ache. 

“How’s your mom?” Heidi asks, trying not to sound as bitter as she feels. “She seemed a little worse for wear on Saturday night.” 

Zoe scowls for a moment, then fixes her face into something apologetic. “She’s fine,” she says. “Busy. She’s been getting really into pilates?”

“Sure,” says Heidi, who has absolutely no interest in any kind of rich white lady fitness classes. “Well, I hope that’s going well for her.” 

“Yeah,” says Zoe. She tucks her hair behind her ear. 

The blue streaks are washing out, Heidi notices. She wonders if Zoe will get them redone. Heidi actually kind of likes them. 

Mostly because she knows that Cynthia doesn’t. 

She’s hit by this wave of annoyance. Fuck Cynthia for making her this bitter, horribly resentful person. Heidi knows that’s not who she is, not really, so fuck Cynthia for just… riling her up all the time, being rich and boring and petty and stupid.

Zoe doesn’t want to be here, that much is clear. 

She’s here because she thinks she should be. Because she’s trying to save face. 

This is damage control. 

It’s a classic Cynthia move, one Heidi has seen plenty of times over the years. 

“Well, I’m sure you’ve got better things to be doing on a Saturday afternoon than hanging out with me,” says Heidi after a moment. “Thank you for the cake. It looks delicious.”

Zoe looks relieved for a moment, then her expression smoothes into something performatively contrite. “I really am so sorry,” she says. “For what happened at the party. I didn’t mean for things to get so out of control.”

Heidi thinks carefully before saying her next words. “Hopefully there won’t be a repeat performance,” she says, her voice even. “You’re better than this, Zoe.” 

Zoe’s eyes widen in alarm. Something truly pained crosses her face for a fraction of a second, then she nods. Looks down. “I know. I will be.”

“I’ll walk you out,” says Heidi, and escorts her through the foyer and to the front door. Just before Zoe turns to leave, Heidi finds herself speaking again. “Be careful, okay? Be safe.”

Zoe looks at her. Blinks a few times. Nods. 

Then heads down the driveway as fast as her legs can carry her. 

Heidi stays in the kitchen for a while, staring down this cake. It must be longer than she realizes, because soon Evan’s there, standing next to her, also staring down the cake. 

“Is it a bomb?” he jokes quietly. 

Heidi laughs a little. “It’s a peace offering.”

Evan looks at it, tilting his head a little. “Is that coconut?”

Heidi nods. “Yeah. You want some?”

Evan hesitates, then ducks his head. “I, uh, don’t really like coconut.”

“Me either,” says Heidi with a sigh. “Or pineapple. And this cake has both.”

They stare at the cake a little longer. 

“Where is it from?” Evan asks. 

“Zoe just dropped it off,” Heidi replies, and she notices that Evan’s jaw shifts a little at the mention of her. 

Interesting. 

That’s an… interesting development. 

“Nice of her, I guess,” Evan says quietly. They stand there for a little longer, then he turns to Heidi. “Hasn’t she known you her whole life?”

“She has.”

Evan nods. “So… she should know you don’t like pineapple or coconut?”

Heidi shrugs. Now that he mentions it, she has vague recollections of a party for Connor’s first communion, back when Cynthia thought being Catholic was a good idea, and Zoe making up a song about cake. 

“Zoe’s probably got more on her mind than remembering what kind of cake I like,” Heidi says after a moment. She shuts the lid of the box, then puts the box into the fridge. “I’ll take it to work tomorrow. Public defenders love sugar.” 

Evan doesn’t say anything, just looks at her with this guarded expression. Heidi grins. 

“Gelato by the beach?” she asks. “Don’t know about you, but I could go for something sweet right now.”

Evan smiles at her. “Sounds good.”

* * *

Connor knows Zoe’s pissed at him but he is starting to lose his patience with her epic bitch attitude. She’s just being fucking mean at this point. 

Which yeah maybe that makes Connor sound sort of like a baby but yesterday she told him he should ask for plastic surgery to get his ears fixed and like, great, now he’s supposed to be self conscious about his fucking ears too? 

Like Connor hates every other part of his body but he kinda likes his ears. Like by themselves they’re kinda goofy but he likes them since he got them pierced with his fake ID last year. Got an industrial bar a couple months later. He thinks his ears are like. Fine. The earrings are kinda cool. But his ears are like. Okay. 

Maybe a little bit big for his face. 

Fuck. 

He spends the rest of Wednesday making sure not to tuck his hair behind his ears lest someone else notice that apparently they make him look like fucking Dumbo. 

Whatever. 

Because Connor apparently has a chronic case of dumbass, he just keeps trying even though he knows Zoe doesn’t want anything to do with him. He offers to drive-thru Starbucks basically every morning and she always shoots him down. He tries putting on music that they both liked before he went away to boarding school, and she told him he was a freak. At this point, Connor suspects that the only thing that would make her happy is if he announced he was dropping out of school to go, like, backpack through Asia or whatever. 

It just. It kinda sucks. 

Not that they’ve always been best friends or whatever but they used to get along. They could hang out without getting into fights. They’d swim in their pool until their fingers and toes got all wrinkled, they’d joke about starting a band, they’d tease each other lightheartedly about stuff. 

Not like now. 

Connor knows it’s his fault. 

He’s the one who got all fucked up and tried to fix the problem with some off label pharmaceutical experimentation. He’s the one who got so damn angry it just exploded out all over everything, destroying everything it touched, and Zoe was the one standing the closest so she got it the worst. 

When he was in the hospital freshman year, he remembers feeling so fucking guilty because she just looked so hurt and confused to see him there. 

Connor remembers his throat hurting because they’d had to pump his stomach. He remembers feeling utterly disgusting, unwashed and dirty and smelling vaguely of puke. He remembers being almost relieved that it hadn’t worked because everyone was being so fucking  _ nice  _ to him immediately after that Connor thought maybe he’d been being a little overdramatic about how bad things were. 

He remembers his parents telling him he needed to shower and change before his sister got there because they didn’t want her seeing him  _ like this.  _ How they didn’t let her visit for the first day or so because they were trying to protect her from his disaster. 

He remembers Zoe curling up with him in the hospital bed right away and saying she was glad he wasn’t dead. How she cried because she was still a little kid. Fourteen was still a little kid. He remembers how much that made him want to cry but he was so exhausted he couldn’t even muster the tears so he just leaned his head on her shoulder and stayed there until their parents said she needed to go home. 

Connor can’t see that girl in his sister anymore. She doesn’t look like her, with her blond and faded blue hair, her fake tan and her bellybutton ring. 

He knows she’s embarrassed of him and he should just be pissed off at her about that but Connor just. Can’t make it stick. 

He feels like there’s something bigger happening with her. Something that nobody else has seen. 

Connor remembers the way she drank at her party. At the party this summer after the fashion show. 

He remembers drinking like that himself. Drinking to fit in. Drinking to forget when it felt like you couldn’t. 

He’s worried about Zoe but he doesn’t know what to do. 

Evan seems to have lost interest in whatever was going on with him and Connor’s sister. He frowns whenever Connor brings Zoe up and says she ought to apologize to him. 

Evan doesn’t have siblings so he just doesn’t  _ get it.  _ It doesn’t matter if they hate each other because they also love each other. So Connor can’t just. Let her fuck stuff up because she needs to learn her own lessons. He’s her big brother. He needs to do something. 

Connor just doesn’t know what. Everything he’s tried has backfired. And he can’t ignore how much it’s getting to him that she’s been  _ such  _ a bitch whenever he tries to be nice. Or dares to acknowledge her at school. Connor suspects if she had her way, they’d still go to separate schools. 

He overhears Zoe coming home after dinner on Wednesday night. 

He didn’t think she was allowed out of the house, but then again this is the first time Connor and Zoe’s parents have ever actually grounded one of them. 

“How’d it go?” Connor hears his mom ask when he steps out of his room. He doesn’t know why he does it. He just… wanted to say  _ something  _ to his sister. But his mom got there first. Connor lingers at the top of the stairs. 

“Fine,” Zoe says. “I apologized and gave her the cake, so.”

“Good,” their mom says. “Hopefully that’ll help you go about setting things right with Heidi and Evan then.”

Connor rolls his eyes. He knows how pissed off Heidi was so he doubts some cake will smooth things over so easily. 

“Yeah I hope so,” Zoe says. She sounds bored. 

“It better,” their mom says bitterly. “The piña colada cake wasn’t easy to get.”

Connor wrinkles his nose. 

Heidi hates pineapples and coconut. Don’t Zoe and his mom remember her being disappointed at his first communion party because the two cakes were white with pineapple chunks and German chocolate? He recalls it vividly because Zoe, who was seven, made up a song on the spot called, “Heidi hates cake!” She sang it all night. There’s a video somewhere. 

It was stupid fucking catchy. Connor still gets it stuck in his head sometimes. 

It just . Really bums him out, Connor supposes. He used to like hanging out with his mom and sister a lot. Now he feels like he’s living with strangers. 

Asshole strangers, really.

* * *

Evan makes an effort to focus in study hall that week, to buckle down and focus entirely on his studies so he doesn’t have to figure out what to say to Zoe. 

He’s not exactly her biggest fan right now, to be honest. Not after what happened at the party, and not after how she’s been treating Connor when he’s the one driving her to school. Connor’s not a snitch, obviously, and isn’t about to complain about Zoe’s attitude, but Evan has ears. He’s heard the way people talk around here. 

The official party line about the party seems to be that Connor is a total buzzkill for ruining it, that Zoe’s furious at him, and that everyone needs to fucking lighten up because Heather Gilles’s aunt’s housekeeper is friends with the Murphy’s housekeeper and apparently the place was totally fine on Monday, everyone’s parents are totally overreacting. 

Connor’s not saying anything, but he’s clearly affected. He’s quiet and subdued and so damn sad all the time, and Evan hates it. He does, however, appreciate that Connor seems to be sticking close to him between classes, at lunch and in English. 

It’s not doing wonders for Evan’s reputation but he honestly couldn’t give a fuck. 

Zoe looks at him during study hall, this annoyed, unreadable look on her face, and Evan doesn’t get it. Doesn’t get it at all. Sure, he’s not always the greatest judge of character, but he thought she was… better than this, all petty and jealous because Evan dares to be friends with Connor. 

For a moment at the party, Evan had thought that maybe…

Maybe Zoe liked him back. 

Then she’d gone and made out with Sabrina in front of all the guys, made out with Brian Harris in the pool and hurt Connor. 

Evan doesn’t get it. 

He doesn’t get it at all. 

He doesn’t get girls, especially girls around here, because they’re mysterious and weird and he has no experience at all with girls anyway. 

He’d just thought…

Maybe she liked him. 

But that’s clearly crazy. As much as Evan hates to admit it, Jared fucking Kleinman is right here. She seems to think he’s fun to play with, fun to tease, but she’ll drop him in a heartbeat for someone who belongs. 

Still…

He remembers going on a walk around the neighborhood with Zoe, and how she’d seemed… upset. 

What she’d said. 

_ “Do you ever feel like you could be standing in a crowd of people, screaming at the top of your lungs, and nobody would notice or care?” _

It still sticks with him, that memory. It follows him around, makes him think twice, even though there’s a part of him that’s just furious with her for hurting Connor. 

There’s more to Zoe than this vapid Newport Beach party girl. 

He can see that pretty clearly. 

He’s just not sure if she can. 

It’s Thursday when she finally sinks into the seat next to him and looks him in the eye. “So,” she says, her voice deliberately light. “When are you going to stop ignoring me?”

“I’m w-working,” he manages to say. “Not ignoring you. This is s-study hall and I have to be careful about my GPA.”

Zoe rolls her eyes. “Oh please. You’re top of the junior class. Everyone knows that.”

Evan looks at her and blinks. “They do?”

“Yeah,” says Zoe, almost smiling. “Alana Beck is pissed. You took her spot.”

Alana Beck is his bio lab partner, and she’s intense, but has always been nice to Evan. He feels a bit of a sting that she secretly hates him. 

She and Connor seem to be friends. What if Connor also secretly hates him?

_ Shut up,  _ he tells the voice in his head that’s about to launch into a rant about how much Evan sucks.  _ You’re not fucking helping.  _

“This school is more intense than my school in Seattle,” Evan says finally, because it seems like Zoe’s after some kind of response. “I just don’t want to fall behind.”

Zoe pouts. “Well, take a break. I want to talk to you.”

Evan looks at her. Closes his book, fearing the worst. 

“Okay.”

Zoe fixes him with a look. “I was kind of a jerk to you,” she says suddenly. “At the party. I’m sorry. I was drunk and stupid and… I’m sorry.”

Evan tries to figure out if he believes her. 

He honestly can’t tell. 

“Thank you for saying that,” he says quietly. “But I d-don’t think I’m the one you sh-should be apologizing to.”

Zoe’s face clouds over. “Connor ruined my party-”

“He wanted to keep you safe,” Evan interrupts, his voice harsh to his own ears. “He-he-he actually cares about you and y-y-you told everyone you hated him.”

Zoe looks angry. “Connor doesn’t care what I say-”

“You’re wrong,” he interrupts. “He cares.”

Zoe blinks. Looks like she’s genuinely trying to figure out what to say next. Then she sags in the seat, and the motion is so much like Connor that it makes something in Evan ache. “I’ll talk to him,” she says, her voice dull. “He probably won’t listen, anyway.”

She opens a text book, like she’s decided the conversation is over. Evan just looks at her for a moment. 

She sighs. “What?” she asks, her voice a little harsh. 

“I don’t get you,” Evan blurts out, not really meaning to. 

Zoe blinks. “What’s  _ that  _ supposed to mean?”

“You’re not like the other girls around here,” he tries to explain. “Not really. You’re just good at pretending that you are.”

Zoe glowers at him. “You’ve been here like, two minutes. You don’t know me.”

“Maybe not,” Evan says, his voice coming out more even than he expects. “But I know pretending.” 

She stares at him for a moment, her eyes wide. 

“You’re good at it,” he continues. “Really good. And I get that, I… I get needing to pretend, needing to be someone else to survive, but… you pretend for long enough and you start convincing yourself that you’re not actually pretending.”

Zoe won’t stop staring. Her eyes are dangerously glassy. “You don’t get to say that shit to me,” she says, her voice wobbly. “You’re not… you don’t get to say shit like that to me.”

“You’re better than the person you’re pretending to be,” Evan says, and he knows he’s being stupid, that she’s not listening, that she doesn’t care, but he can’t stop. “Don’t… don’t let it take you, okay?”

She folds her arms, leans over her textbook. Lets her hair fall over her face. 

Evan thinks that’s the end of it and opens his bio textbook. 

“You picked Connor over me,” she says quietly, out of the blue.

Evan sighs, because he knows she’s right. 

“Connor’s not pretending to be anyone,” he says, trying to explain. “He’s… he’s real. And I… I need that reminder.” He chances a look at Zoe, who’s still staring at her book, looking dangerously close to tears. “Hey. I’m not trying to be an asshole here, I just-”

“You think Connor’s real?” Zoe snaps, turning to look at him. “Bet he didn’t tell you he’s a huge homo.”

It takes a moment for that to sink in. “What?”

Zoe looks irritated, and more than a little triumphant. “You talk all this bullshit about Connor being someone who’s not pretending but you don’t even know he’s into dudes. He's gay. He’s probably got some kind of creepy crush on you, he’s probably just trying to get into your pants.”

Evan feels like he’s been punched in the head, somehow. 

That’s…

What? No. 

No, Connor’s not gay. He can’t be, he’s not…

He’s tough. He’s a fighter. Not someone who’ll just… bend over and take it. He’s not weak, he’s  _ strong, _ he’s not…

He’s not gay. That’s not possible.

Evan’s never met anyone gay, but he’s pretty sure he knows what he’s looking for, how to spot one. Like that guy who helped fit him for the suit when he first arrived with the lisp who called him honey. 

That’s not Connor. Connor’s not… fashionable and flamboyant, he’s…

He’s just Connor. 

Just Connor. 

Zoe’s got this look on her face like she won something. This self-satisfied smirk. 

Evan hates it. In this second, he hates her, because she just changed everything. 

She just…

“If he is,” Evan says, trying to contain his fury, “that wasn’t yours to tell.”

Zoe shrugs, looks at him with this faux-innocent expression. “I’m just trying to keep things  _ real  _ for you, Evan.”

With that, she moves to another desk, leaving Evan completely and utterly confused. 

English is… weird. Connor seems to notice immediately that there’s something wrong, something bothering Evan. He doesn’t ask, just frowns and says something about the extra credit creative writing workshop they’ve both signed up for. 

Evan’s relieved. He just…

He needs to figure this out. 

Figure out his next move here. 

There’s a voice in his head telling him that Connor’s clearly perving on him, that he wants to make him gay, but Evan’s stopped putting much stock in that voice in his head these days. He tries to ignore it, tries to think through it. 

Tries to use his fucking brain for a second. 

Focus on the facts. 

Fact: Connor is the first person to have stood up for Evan in a long time. Possibly ever. Connor is the one of the few people Evan’s ever felt safe around. That means something. 

Fact: Even though things with Zoe are rocky right now, Evan knows for a fact that he’s into girls and their boobs. Like,  _ very  _ into girl boobs. Sabrina Patel was wearing something low-cut on Tuesday that Evan definitely had some very impure thoughts about. He’s not gay. Hanging out with Connor for the last month hasn’t made him gay. 

Fact: Connor knows who Evan really is. He’s one of three people in this place who know that Evan’s not Heidi’s nephew from Seattle. It’s been a month, and no one else has found out. Evan can trust him. 

Fact: Evan has never really met a gay person before, so he doesn’t have a frame of reference here. All he has to fall back on are Mark’s bullshit opinions, Mark’s insistence that the fags all deserve to die. And Mark’s a fucking idiot, so the chances that he’s wrong about this? Pretty high. 

Fact: Connor wears eyeliner sometimes. Evan didn’t immediately think that was gay, but in retrospect… well, yeah. 

It suits him. But that’s an opinion, not a fact. 

He needs to stick to  _ facts  _ here. 

Evan’s logical. Smart. He can use his fucking brain. He can figure this out. 

He spends the next day just… listening to the way people talk about Connor. Usually, he tries to block it out, but he actually listens for a while, trying to get a gauge of it. 

They all seem more focused on calling him Quitter than anything else, but Evan hears a few people call him a faggot. 

Brian Harris had called him one at the party. 

He’d just kind of, like, assumed it was what these rich assholes said to fuck with each other when they were fighting. 

Calling someone a faggot then immediately touching them doesn’t seem particularly heterosexual to Evan, when it all comes down to it. 

He doesn’t sleep a lot on Thursday night, because he’s trying to just… figure it out. He shared a bed with Connor over the weekend. Does that make him gay?

He can hear Mark’s voice in his head, over and over. 

_ “You turn out to be a faggot, I’ll fucking kill you. You hear me? I’ll  _ kill  _ you.” _

It makes his heart race too fast, makes him feel sick to the stomach. 

Mark’s not here. Mark’s not in his life, he can’t hurt Evan anymore. 

And Connor… 

Evan hasn’t changed his mind that Connor’s real. That Connor doesn’t pretend. And he likes that, he needs that, because Evan’s a sham, he’s pretending to be someone he’s not and he needs someone in his life who can be real with him. 

It’s barely been a month that they’ve known each other. 

_ Zoe did you a favor, _ the voice in his head sneers.  _ You don’t want to be associated with a fag. People will start to think  _ you’re  _ one. _

_ They probably already do and you were just too stupid to figure it out. _

_ No.  _ Fuck that. Connor doesn’t owe Evan an explanation. And it’s, like, his thing to tell Evan, or not tell him. Not something Zoe should have used as a weapon.

Connor is… 

He’s not what Evan thinks a gay person should be. 

But how would he know? Not all straight people are the same. 

And at the end of the day, he trusts Connor. He  _ knows  _ Connor. 

Connor hasn’t changed. 

Evan won’t let the way he treats him change, either, because Connor deserves to have someone in his corner, no matter what. Connor’s the only person who knows who Evan really is at this school and he likes him anyway. 

Who cares if Connor likes dudes? He’s still Connor. 

Evan knows him. 

He’s pretty sure he knows him. 

This shouldn’t change things. And Connor not telling Evan earlier? Makes total sense. People are assholes about this kind of thing, and Connor’s been through enough. 

There’s a pang in Evan’s chest as he realizes that maybe Connor didn’t tell him because he’s afraid they’d stop hanging out. 

The idea of not hanging out with Connor? 

No. Unacceptable. 

Connor is… solid and real and a lifeline in this fucked up world of rich, entitled assholes, and Evan can’t do this alone. Can’t navigate this alone. 

It doesn’t matter who he’s into. If Connor can put up with Evan having a thing for his sister, then Evan can certainly deal with Connor being gay, even if Evan knows that Evan isn’t. 

And Connor doesn’t…

He doesn’t see Evan like that. That much Evan’s sure about. 

Nobody does. Not really. People who don’t know him think they might, but people who see who he really is? 

They wouldn’t want him like that. 

Connor wouldn’t want him like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "I’ve Got a Dark Alley and a Bad Idea That Says You Should Shut Your Mouth (Summer Song)" by Fall Out Boy. 
> 
> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! at the Disco


	17. Am I More Than You Bargained For Yet?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth about Connor.

Evan is being kind of weird in class on Thursday. And again at lunch and in class on Friday. He’s all quiet and he seems to be watching Connor closely. 

Connor doesn’t know what’s going on. 

He starts to like. Totally freak out. The memories of M just bailing are pretty fresh and if Evan’s just done with him Connor’s not sure he can handle it. 

Maybe he feels weird about the conversation they had on the beach? About Evan’s parents and M and Connor’s mom freaking out at him. 

He’s gotta know that Connor wouldn’t judge him for any of that. 

He’s gotta know. 

Connor wants to ask him like. A hundred times on Friday. Ask what’s going on. Why he’s being suddenly guarded and weird. 

It freaks Connor out so much he even mentions it to his therapist. His dad insisted he went for an extra session on Saturday morning because he’s “concerned” that Connor’s not eating. 

Connor doesn’t want to talk about that. He knows it’s messed up but he gets so mad at his shrink when he starts throwing around words like “eating disorder” because like. Connor’s a  _ guy.  _ Girls have those and Connor might be gay but he’s not a fucking girl. 

Like it’s not like that. He doesn’t want to be skinny he just. Can’t get any bigger. That’s different. 

His therapist naturally is pretty useless and is all “you should express your worries about Evan to him.”

Like okay, Doc, but some people actually don’t love talking. Evan’s got real problems. What if it’s something like that?

His shrink probably has a point though. About talking to him. No point in beating himself up about it until Connor knows he’s actually fucked something up. 

On Saturday afternoon, Connor’s actually trying to do his homework before ten o’clock on Sunday night for a change. Their English teacher assigned an outline thing and like. Connor’s brain doesn’t  _ think _ that way. He normally just writes and eventually figures out what his point is. 

He’s getting kind of frustrated. Connor just can’t organize his thoughts in bullet points. He’s more about meandering sentences and trying to find a decent turn of phrase. This is torture. 

Annoyed, Connor pulls out his phone and texts Evan. He might be acting weird but he is good at this shit. Maybe he can help Connor break it down. 

Evan texts back saying he’ll come over to help Connor out. Connor responds asking if Evan will meet him in the pool house. He doesn’t want Zoe to see Evan’s coming over. 

She’s grounded. 

Which has never happened in the history of… history. Their dad is really fucking pissed. Connor keeps hearing his parents arguing about her punishment. 

He also doesn’t want to give Evan more reasons to like. Hate Connor’s mom. He knows it’s stupid. She has been a huge bitch to him all week, but Connor’s weirdly protective of her. He doesn’t want Evan to think she’s normally this… whatever. 

She’s not. 

They used to hang out, Connor and his mom. Do shit together. They both like books so they had like a standing time to go to the bookstore on weekends all through middle school, which Connor appreciated because he had zero friends. 

Whatever. 

Connor grabs his English stuff and heads out to the pool house. Sets up at the table in there. Evan shows up maybe five minutes later. He smiles at Connor but he looks… uneasy. Weirded out. He’s holding his English binder and immediately starts talking about like. Topic sentences and whatever. 

Connor frowns. 

Tries to focus but his brain won’t shift gears because he knows something is up and it’s bugging him. A lot. 

“Are you paying attention?”

Connor isn’t. “Sorry,” he mutters. 

Evan gives him a pained looking smile and Connor picks his nail polish and feels weird about it all over again. 

“So then you’d just, like, list out the stuff you’re using as evidence,” Evan says, all factual and whatever. 

“Are you pissed at me?” Connor blurts. 

Evan blinks. He looks… caught. “What?”

“You’ve been kinda weird the last couple of days,” Connor says. 

“No I…”

“Okay so you have though,” Connor says, feeling irritated. 

“I’m not,” Evan says defensively. “I-I’m not being weird.”

Connor’s noticed that Evan stutters more when he’s stressed out so that just seems to prove it to him. “Uh, yeah you have,” Connor says. “You were all quiet and weird in English yesterday  _ and  _ Thursday. And you basically didn’t say anything at lunch yesterday. And today you’ve only wanted to talk about homework.”

Evan frowns. “No, I-I… I…”

“Is this because of last weekend?” Connor asks desperately because this is killing him. He hates not knowing. “Because like. I’m obviously not going to tell anybody about what you said. And I’m not, like, gonna start judging you or whatever.”

“It’s not that,” Evan snaps. 

“Well then what did I do?” Connor demands hotly. “Because I can’t figure it out and it’s… like whatever it is I’m  _ sorry  _ I just need to know so I don’t do it again or whatever I mean Jesus don’t lie to me okay?”

“Connor stop-”

“Like I know I’m kind of an asshole and if I fucked up I’m sorry I really am but I can’t, like, deal with you like trying to slow fade me or whatever if you don’t want to hang out anymore just fucking  _ tell me  _ so I can leave you alone-”

“No!” Evan says insistently. His cheeks are pink. He looks upset. “Look it’s not like. Y-you d-d-didn’t…” Evan hunches his shoulders. Sighs. “Look I-I. I uh. Talked to Zoe in study hall?”

“Okay?” Connor says, his heart pounding funnily. 

“She. Z-Zoe said that uh. That-that you’re. That you’re… gay.” His voice drops on the last word. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, Connor didn’t even know that Zoe knew he. Fuck. Fuck. 

“Oh,” he says. Squares his shoulders. So. This is how it is. Right. His insides are burning with shame. Of fucking course. He starts collecting his books and shit. “Well. I am so.”

* * *

Connor squares his shoulders. Doesn’t look at Evan. Starts packing up his things, which… 

No. 

No, fuck this. 

“C-c-can you stop doing that?” Evan blurts out, hating how his stutter is just all over the fucking place right now. “Stop… I d-d-don’t...”

Connor runs his hand through his hair. Looks irritated and defeated, all at once. 

But he leaves his books alone. 

Still doesn’t look at Evan. 

“I just didn’t know,” Evan says quietly. “I… I’ve n-never met someone who’s gay before. I d-didn’t know.”

Connor’s jaw shifts. He looks at the table. 

“Well,” he says after a moment. “Now you have.”

Evan bites his lip. Tries not to, like, totally freak out or whatever, because that’s not fair, that’s not fair at all, he’s such an idiot what the hell is wrong with him, even bringing this up, what the fuck what the fuck. 

Connor’s still not looking at him.

“It-it-it wasn’t cool of her to t-t-tell me the way she did,” Evan says in a rush. “We… we-we kind of argued? I kinda… I-I-I think I said some th-things she didn’t want to hear and then she told me you were gay like-like it was hers to tell, which it’s not, because… it-it-it’s not.”

He doesn’t know what he’s saying. 

Doesn’t know how to explain this. 

Connor shifts his jaw again. Raises his head the tiniest bit. 

“You’re pissed off I didn’t tell you myself,” Connor says darkly. “You would have never let me, like, share a bed with you if you knew I was gay.”

Evan hadn’t even thought about that. 

He immediately wants to argue, but…

Fuck. 

Fuck, why can’t he lie to this kid?

He lies to everyone else. 

“I’ve never met anyone gay before,” Evan says again. “And I… I guess I h-had to, like, f-figure that out? Because y-you’re not… what I expected.” He feels his shoulders collapse. “That… that sounds so st-stupid, I’m b-being so f-fucking stupid-”

“What did you expect?” Connor interrupts, raising his head a little more.

“Not you,” Evan says immediately. He swallows. Hard. Tries to shrug. “I-I-I d-don’t know anything about b-being gay, o-only what my d-dad used to s-say and he-he-he’s an asshole, so.”

Connor looks at him properly. There’s something Evan can’t quite read in his expression. “What did your dad say?” he asks, his voice challenging. 

Now Evan’s the one who can’t look at him. 

“He said he-he-he’d kill me,” Evan says to his shoes. “If I t-turned out gay. B-but I d-don’t… I don’t agree with him, obviously. He’s… he’s an asshole.”

He can hear Connor take in a sharp breath. 

“Yeah,” Connor mutters after a while. “He’s an asshole.”

“And-and-and ob-obviously I’m not,” Evan says in a hurry. “Gay. That is. Because… because boobs are really great, and…” He chances a look at Connor, who’s tilting his head a little. “Guess that’s… not your area.”

“Not so much,” says Connor. 

He’s almost smiling. 

Almost. 

“I made it weird,” Evan blurts out. “I d-didn’t mean to make it weird-”

“Are we still friends?” 

Evan blinks. “Of course.” Connor just stares at him, like he doesn’t believe him, and Evan can’t let that stand, he fucking can’t. “Of course we are, Connor.”

* * *

“Are we still friends?” Connor blurts because he can’t help himself, because he has to know, he has to know right now or his heart might break, he might fall apart. 

“Of course,” Evan blinks. Connor looks at him, not sure if he believes him. “Of course we are, Connor.”

Connor’s heart squeezes painfully in his chest. He feels like he can’t, like, breathe. He can’t interpret how he’s feeling. Scared. A little… disappointed. 

Not that he thought Evan was gay but it almost, like, hurts to hear it confirmed outloud. 

Which is stupid. Connor’s stupid, he’s so fucking stupid. What is fucking wrong with him? Five seconds ago he was scared Evan wouldn’t want to be his friend anymore and now he’s feeling all bent out of shape that Evan’s straight? He’s so stupid. 

“Fuck I… I’m sorry,” Connor mumbles, his face still hot. “I freaked out at you, I fucked up and I, like, yelled and -”

Evan shakes his head. “N-no. No. You’re right. I was… I  _ was  _ being weird.”

“That’s fucked up about your dad,” Connor adds, not looking Evan in the face. “Like. Obviously you’re not gay but. Still a fucking shitty thing to tell a kid.”

“I-I know, right?” Evan says. He says it like it’s a joke when they both know it’s fucking not. Evan fiddles with a loose string on the hem of his shirt. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” Connor says quietly, not even sure if he means it but knowing he ought to. It’s not Evan’s fault that Connor’s an idiot. It’s not Evan’s fault that he can’t, like, keep it together. 

“Do… D-do your parents know?” Evan asks him quietly. 

Connor nods. “I didn’t, you know. Tell them. They figured it out. Pretty sure at least. Everyone did.”

Evan nods. He twists his fingers in the hem of his shirt. He still doesn’t look exactly okay. Connor feels guilty. He wishes Evan didn’t know. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Connor says then. 

Evan looks confused. “Why?”

Connor shrugs. “I dunno, I mean. Like. It sucks that that’s how you found out and like… We’re friends. I should have told you.”

“Y-you don’t, like, owe me that?” Evan says. It comes out like a question, but Connor suspects that Evan doesn’t mean it to. 

Connor shrugs. “Still I… You’re my best friend and I should have…” Connor stops. Realizes what he’s said. Feels stupidly like crying because, like, fuck, what if Evan thinks that’s so weird and so creepy? Who just says that? Who just announces someone is their best friend? Fuck, what is this, kindergarten?

Connor slouches further in his chair and wraps his arms around his middle, feeling very vulnerable and exposed and like he just showed off an especially ugly part of himself to Evan who wasn’t expecting it. He still feels like he could cry which is just, like, so stupid so he tries to swallow it down, tries to just distance himself from it, leave the room mentally, check out. 

“I…” Evan looks a little lost when Connor finally manages to look up at him. He looks lost and maybe a little bit sad or relieved or something. He doesn’t know what Evan’s thinking, what he’s feeling. His face twitches into a soft smile. “I’ve never… had a best friend before.” 

Connor looks at him. His heart hurts. How is that even possible?

“I m-moved around a lot, l-like in foster care and-and, like, just tried to avoid p-people in Chino and…” Evan swallowed audibly. “I’ve never had one before.”

“Okay,” Connor says. 

They’re sort of quiet for a long moment. Connor picks his nail polish. Evan watches. 

“I…” Connor starts. “You’ve never met anybody gay before? Really?” Like, sure, it’s weird but they live in California. There’s tons of gay people around. 

Evan shrugs. “Th-there was one g-guy who sold me my suit?” He says after a moment. “I think, m-maybe him? He. C-called me ‘honey’?”

Connor nods. Figures Evan would have met like the most flaming dude in all of the L.A. metro area. So that’s probably what he expects. He doesn’t expect Connor, who like… knows fuck all about fashion and hates shopping and whatever. 

Honestly, Connor barely knows shit about being gay. His mom used to watch  _ Queer Eye for the Straight Guy  _ sometimes. He’s not like any of those dudes so… he’s probably doing it wrong. He’s probably bad at being gay, like he’s bad at pretty much everything else.

“Can I… Am I allowed t-to, uh, ask questions?” Evan asks then, then chews his lip. “If th-that’s rude then I w-w-won’t but -”

“Sure,” Connor says. He doesn’t know the fucking rules here. 

“When did you like… know?”

Connor shrugs. He doesn’t have a good answer. He’s not one of those kids who came out of the womb with a rainbow flag in each hand. He remembers being super little and thinking he had crushes on girls; he used to tell his mom he was going to marry her when he grew up until he realized how fucked up and Oedipal that was. He just… never liked girls. He didn’t even think to, like, interrogate it until he was probably in sixth grade or whatever. Whenever they started forcing kids to change for gym class. Suddenly being in a room full of half naked dudes was like… weird. And Connor would change in a stall so avoid letting his eyes or mind wander. 

Mostly though he just avoided thinking about it. He just avoided the topic wholesale. He didn’t  _ want  _ to be any weirder than he already was, and Connor knew thinking about other guys was absolutely going to put him at risk for getting his ass kicked. So Connor tried to like, ignore it. But… and fuck this is embarrassing, but sometimes Connor would get these all consuming crushes on guys in books? Like he really had a thing for Holden Caulfield for a minute there, thinking all about how much he could sniff out fakes and phonies and how he didn’t seem to give a shit about what people thought. 

But that was fucking embarrassing and Connor is not going to tell Evan about it. Who the fuck had crushes on imaginary people?

Freshman year he like. Tried really hard to be normal. When he’d go to parties and shit sometimes he’d make out with girls. It wasn’t like. Bad? He doesn’t remember a lot of it (thanks drugs!) but it wasn’t bad. He didn’t feel weird or wrong about it. It just didn’t feel quite  _ right  _ either. Like something was slightly off about it. Almost like when you order a regular soda and get diet instead. It’s not  _ bad,  _ but it’s not quite what you were hoping for. 

“I dunno,” Connor says finally. “Like. I didn’t really want to think about it for a long time?”

Evan nods. “Okay.” 

“And like. I dunno. I just… knew. It wasn’t like I woke up and was all ‘aha I’m gay’ or whatever?” 

Evan nods again. He’s doing a lot of nodding and not a lot of talking. 

“You okay? You look… sorta freaked?”

* * *

Honestly, Evan  _ is  _ sorta freaked. He’d kind of… 

Well, he’d kind of hoped Connor might have some kind of insight here. Some sort of test or whatever, some way of being able to prove whether you’re gay. 

There’s still a part of him that’s… 

Kind of terrified. And it makes no fucking sense, because he knows that he likes girls, is  _ acutely  _ aware of how much he likes girls, but he still can’t quite get rid of that fear. 

That fear that there’s some way you can tell, some way that someone else could tell even if you didn't know, and…

_ “You turn out to be a faggot, I’ll fucking kill you. You hear me? I’ll  _ kill  _ you.” _

Fuck. 

That is… 

That is so fucked up. 

Mark signed a piece of paper saying he didn’t want Evan, why the fuck is he letting that asshole get in his head? And he’s wrong, anyway, he’s _ wrong.  _

Evan knows without a shadow of a doubt that if anyone tried to hurt Connor, he’d tear them to pieces. He’s known that basically since the first time he met the guy, and that hasn’t changed. 

“I… y-you don’t freak me out,” Evan feels compelled to say. “I j-just… my dad? It… it makes it…” He shakes his head, the motion almost violent. “He’s a fucking pathetic asshole, he’s so fucking stupid. I j-j-just…” He can’t look at Connor for the longest time. “I hadn’t been with him long? When he… when he said that, so… it freaked me out or whatever. It’s stupid, I’m being stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” Connor says immediately. “That’s super fucked up.” His voice is kind of soft as he continues. “And it, like… it makes sense to feel ways about it?”

Evan looks at him. “I just d-don’t want you to think that I’m… that I’m him.”

Connor visibly flinches. Goes pale. 

Evan’s about to apologize but Connor speaks first. 

“Of course I don’t think that. Of course I don’t.”

Evan takes in a shaky breath. “And-and me being weird about this isn’t because of… of you? I’m n-not… I’m not freaked out by  _ you _ .”

Connor swallows audibly. “Yeah?” he says, his voice thin and young. 

“Definitely not,” Evan says, trying to make sure the words have all the weight they need. “I’m not… I’ve never…” 

He looks at Connor. Really looks at him. 

Takes in his long hair, long legs, thin shoulders, high cheekbones. The bruise on his face that’s faded to yellow by now. He’s wearing a t-shirt for some band Evan’s never heard of, and skinny jeans, and the belt Evan got him for his birthday. 

Connor’s… nice to look at, Evan thinks stupidly. 

Which is such a fucking weird thing to think, he’s such a freak, he’s being so fucking weird about this, why is he being so weird?

Connor’s got circles under his eyes and he’s pale and his fingers are long and thin and his nails are painted black and he’s bitten his lip a bunch of times, enough that his bottom lip is red, and that’s…

That’s nice to look at. 

It makes him feel safe. 

Connor makes him feel safe. 

“I’m not freaked out by you,” Evan says after a moment. “This doesn’t change anything.”

Connor’s mouth twists into this self-deprecating smile. “I’m the same person I was before study hall on Thursday,” he says, something deliberately light in his tone. 

“I know that,” Evan says simply. “I know you.”

Connor stares at him, his mouth open a little, like he’s looking at Evan for the first time. 

Evan likes it. 

A lot. 

More than he probably should. 

Something in Connor’s expression dims then, like a thought has just occurred to him. Evan frowns. 

“Let me guess,” Connor says, his voice quiet. “Zoe told you I’m trying to get in your pants or whatever.”

“She did,” Evan confirms, just as quietly. He frowns. “I think she was just… trying to get a reaction?” He smiles a little. Looks at Connor. “I’m not, like… I don’t want to be one of those guys who thinks that all gay guys want him? Like, come on, that’s just… kind of self-centered. How full of yourself do you have to be, right?”

Connor does actually smile at that, this smile that shows off his teeth, which Evan’s only just noticing now are… basically perfect.

Just, like, toothpaste-commercial perfect teeth. 

“Trust me,” Connor says, sounding genuinely amused, “this place is full of guys I wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole, no matter how fucking gay I am.” 

Evan grins back. “Yeah.” He swallows. “I d-don’t want to flatter myself.”

Something flashes across Connor’s face, something Evan can’t quite place. 

Then he smiles again, and nudges Evan with his shoulder. 

“You’re alright,” he says, his voice teasing. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

Evan’s stomach swoops funnily at that. He ducks his head and tries not to let Connor see that his cheeks have gone a little pink. 

Boobs. 

He likes boobs. 

He’s just… he’s so caught up in finally having a friend that he’s letting it make him weird. 

_ “You’re my best friend.” _

That’s what Connor said. 

Evan looks at him intently. “Just so you know,” he says. “You’re  _ my  _ best friend. If-if that’s okay?” 

Connor smiles, this soft smile that does something nice to his eyes. 

“Yeah,” he says, his eyes shining. “That’s okay.”

They grin at each other for a while. 

Evan takes a breath. Looks pointedly at Connor’s English binder. “Okay, so. Topic sentences.”

Connor lets out this exaggerated groan and Evan laughs, reaching over to flick the binder back open to the right section. 

He feels lighter, somehow. 

Better. 

Evan’s not going to lose this, he promises himself. He’s not going to fuck this up, like he’s fucked up everything else in his miserable life. It’s too important. 

Having a friend, a real friend, is far too important, so he’s not going to let things get weird just because Connor’s into guys. 

He refuses to lose this. 

He refuses. 

When he gets back to Heidi’s place, Heidi’s in the living room with her laptop, frowning at it a little. Evan feels this pang of shame. She shouldn’t have to be working on a Saturday. He really needs to get better at not wasting so much of her time, it’s not fair. 

But then she spots him and her eyes light up and she grins this big, sunshiney smile and Evan can’t help but grin back. 

“Hey Evan,” she says warmly. “How was working on English?” Her expression grows more serious. “How’s Connor?”

“English was good,” Evan says with a nod. “Connor’s… he’s good.” He shrugs. He doesn’t think it’s his place to tell Heidi about Connor being gay, but he doesn’t want to, like, dismiss her concerns, either. “It’s been a hard week for him, I think? He… he has to drive Zoe to school and she’s k-kinda being awful to him.” 

Heidi frowns a little, but nods. “Driving to school with someone who’s acting like they hate your guts must be hard,” she says kindly. She tilts her head. “I don’t mean for you to put yourself in the middle of it, but why not see if Connor can take you to school as well next week? Zoe might be nicer to him if there’s someone there to run interference.”

The idea has definite appeal, but Evan’s still kind of hesitant. “I mean, I’m n-not exactly her favorite person right now, either.” Heidi raises her eyebrows. Evan laughs a little humorlessly. “It’s a long story.”

“That long story have anything to do with how you’re friends with her brother?” Heidi asks, her tone deliberately light. 

_ Fuck, _ she’s good. 

Evan feels his cheeks go pink. “Okay, so it’s not  _ that  _ long.”

“Rich kids aren’t good at sharing their toys,” Heidi says, her voice just the right side of bitter. “Not that you’re a toy, obviously. I can just… see that posing a problem.” Then something in her expression changes. Lightens a little. “Especially if you like her.”

Evan plays dumb. “I like her fine.”

Heidi’s face erupts into a grin. “But do you  _ like  _ like her?”

“Oh my god,” Evan groans, putting his head on the table. 

Heidi actually laughs at that, this big carefree laugh that Evan enjoys even though it’s absolutely at his expense. 

He’s not used to being playfully teased. He’s either ignored or made fun of, most of the time, so this is…

Weird. 

But he doesn’t hate it. 

“Seriously, though,” Heidi says after a moment. “I know that the heart wants what it wants.” Evan puts his head up, and Heidi looks at him with a small smile. “I also saw the way you looked at her the first time you met her.”

“I’d never met anyone like her,” Evan says instantly. He feels this surge of disappointment. His shoulders sag. “And-and-and then it turned out that she’s, like, basically a copy of all the other pretty rich mean girls here.”

Heidi nods, something wise in her expression. “I don’t think she’s quite mean-spirited enough to be Regina George.”

Evan frowns. “What?”

Heidi blinks. “Right. Okay. Didn’t see that one, then.” Her face softens. “I’ve known Zoe all her life,” she continues. “She’s… she’s having a hard time figuring out who she is. Who she wants to be.”

Evan shrugs. “Okay? I mean… isn’t everyone?” 

Heidi laughs. “Yeah, kiddo.”

“Doesn’t mean she gets to take it out on Connor,” Evan mutters, putting his arms on the table and leaning his head on his arms, looking up at Heidi. “It’s… she’s being really mean? And Connor acts like it’s not a big deal but it absolutely is.”

Heidi nods. Smiles sympathetically. “Those two were so close when they were kids,” she says, her voice soft. “Things kind of fell apart when Connor was about thirteen. He…” She sighs a little, looking sad. “He took a lot of drugs. Partied way too hard. Had a lot of anger and took a lot of it out on Zoe, which wasn’t fair. She was just a kid.”

“So was Connor,” Evan points out. 

Heidi looks horribly sad. She nods. “Yeah.”

Evan bites his lip. “Mr. and Mrs. Murphy just let them do whatever, huh?”

Heidi’s face clouds over. “I mean,” she says, looking like she’s trying to be diplomatic, “I’m not a parent, so it’s not for me to judge.”

Evan feels a little bit like he’s been slapped. 

His shoulders tense a little. 

Right.

Of course, right, he…

Heidi’s not his mom. He needs to stop pretending that she is. 

She’s not his mom. 

He  _ told  _ her that himself. 

Heidi looks horribly sad. “I’d like to think I’d have done things differently,” she says, something soft and sad in her voice. “But I can’t know for sure.”

“You would have,” Evan says, because apparently he can’t stop himself from being totally embarrassing today. “You…” He doesn’t look at Heidi as he continues. “Anyone would be lucky to have you as their mom, Heidi.”

Heidi’s quiet for a long moment. 

Evan can’t look at her. 

He’s probably freaked her out probably said something way too weird she’s probably changing her mind right now thinking about who she has to call to get him sent away what the fuck what the fuck why does he always ruin things-

“Anyone would be lucky to be  _ your  _ mom, Evan.”

Evan feels his eyes sting at Heidi’s words. 

He can’t…

He puts his head on his hands and tries to get himself together. It takes longer than it should, longer than he’d like it to, and Heidi must be looking at him like he’s so pathetic, like he’s this stupid idiot kid, and that’s-

“Wanna stay at the beach house tonight?” Heidi asks softly. “We can go whenever you’re ready. Pick up a pizza and maybe even some gelato?”

Evan nods. 

He can’t think of anything he’d like more.

* * *

Evan and Connor do homework at Heidi’s beach house for a bit on Sunday afternoon. It’s kinda nice, really, listening to the ocean while Connor tries to conjugate French and Evan complains a little about trig while zooming through all of his practice problems. Connor notices he doesn’t even look up any of the answers in the back of the book. 

Evan is the smartest person Connor has ever met and he’s so fucking glad he didn’t decide that Connor being gay was too much for him. 

Heidi’s around, offering them snacks (which Connor refuses) and insisting she leave and bring back some gelato after they both finish all of their homework. 

Connor wants to refuse, but doesn’t because he feels a little like Evan’s watching him. Watching what he eats. 

Or doesn’t. 

Whatever. 

After a few long hours, it is nice to sit by the beach with Evan and Heidi. They get along really well, Connor notices. It’s almost like Evan’s Heidi’s real kid. They even sort of look alike. 

Maybe they were, like, supposed to find each other or whatever. 

Connor’s not so cynical that he doesn’t think that sometimes that shit happens. 

“So, Connor, I have a proposition for you,” Heidi says in this voice that is so unbelievably serious that she’s got to be joking. 

Connor puts down his gelato (it’s pistachio, which he knows is sort of weird, but he likes green). “Okay?”

“Since you and Evan go to school together, and you live next door,” Heidi says with a smile. “Maybe you could give Evan a ride? From now on?”

Connor smiles. “Oh. Yeah. Totally.” 

“Not that I don’t love getting to drop Evan off everyday,” She says, and Evan rolls his eyes like he’s embarrassed, “But I get the feeling it’s not cool to get dropped off by an old lady every morning.”

“You’re not old,” Evan says smiling. “Yet.”

Heidi laughs happily. 

“Cool,” Connor says. “So I’ll pick you up tomorrow?” He looks at Evan. 

“Sure.” 

Connor wakes up on Monday with a stomach ache. 

Why the fuck did he eat gelato, why didn’t he just like eat a tub of fucking butter and then wash it down with a pound of sugar, Jesus fuck? 

He’s so disgusting. 

Connor manages to get ready without barfing. He knocks on Zoe’s bedroom door when it’s about time to go, saying through the door that he’ll be waiting in the car. Zoe doesn’t even answer. If he hadn’t heard her hairdryer half an hour ago, he might be worried she was oversleeping, but he did so he just goes to his car. Pulls out of the garage and puts on some music and waits. 

Evan shows up with his backpack maybe a minute or two later. Connor nods his head toward the passenger seat and Evan hops in. 

“Where’s Zoe?” 

Connor frowns slightly. “I dunno, like. Applying another layer of lip gloss? Who knows dude.”

Evan looks slightly uncomfortable at the jab and Connor takes a breath. “Sorry. Woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” He mutters. 

“Connor, your bed is against a wall,” Evan says back, smiling at little, and Connor sort of gently shoves his shoulder a little because ugh he’s such a fucking dork Connor likes him so damn much. 

Zoe shows up about a song later. Connor’s been making a playlist of all of the songs he thinks Evan likes. Connor put on some Linkin Park last week and Evan definitely seemed to like that, which Connor secretly thinks is sort of… adorable. A little bit of his rough, Chino side showing. 

So he’s added a lot of Linkin Park to this playlist, obviously. 

When Zoe gets in the backseat, she groans. “Can you turn that shit down? I have a headache.”

Connor obliges. 

Evan gives him a look. 

Happy fucking Monday, apparently. 

Connor makes the executive decision that they’re totally stopping at Starbucks. He can already tell today is going to be long and so he needs coffee. He makes the turn and Zoe makes an indignant noise from the backseat. “School’s the other way, asshole.”

“Wanted to get coffee,” Connor says, refusing to rise to the bait. “Want anything?”

Connor watches Zoe cross her arms over her chest from the rearview and say nothing. 

When they get to Starbucks, the drive thru line is insane, so Connor parks and decides to go inside. Evan immediately hops out after him, but Zoe stays resolutely buckled in. “I’m not going in with you,” She says, as if this is a ridiculous thing to do. 

“Suit yourself,” Connor says wearily, shutting his door. He locks the car and heads inside the building. 

Stares up at the menu. 

Frowns. 

“What do girls drink from here?” He says to Evan, who looks back at him cluelessly. “I’m getting Zoe something.”

“Sh-she was kinda rude to you?” Evan says. 

Connor ignores that. “Last time we came together was, like, two years ago. She was into one of those… frozen things with all the whipped cream. Is that still a thing?”

Evan blinks a few times. “I know her order,” He says, almost like he’s embarrassed. “She gets a venti skinny vanilla latte.”

Oh. 

Right. 

Evan knows Zoe’s coffee order. By heart. Cool. Cool that’s… great. Awesome. Fucking fantastic. 

It’s stupid to be jealous, Connor knows this. 

But god, really, it’s just kind of fucking unfair that Evan likes Zoe. Like. He’s not trying to be selfish or a dickhead, but it’s starting to feel a little like Zoe gets everything that Connor wants. Connor tries to talk to their mom? She’ll ignore him or spit out one syllable answers, and then spend hours and hours talking to Zoe about anything and everything at school. Connor wants to just make it through the school day without getting called a name or whatever? He can’t, but Zoe sure can. Even when people are all super pissed at her, the worst thing Connor’s heard Zoe get called is “kinda uptight.” Connor likes Evan? Too bad, he’s only got eyes for Zoe. 

Connor clenches his jaw and steps up to the counter to order. “Uh hi. Can I get a large black coffee? And uh… What was it again?” He looks at Evan. 

“A venti sk-skinny vanilla latte,” Evan says softly. 

“Yeah that. And then whatever he’s getting.” 

Evan opens his mouth to protest at first, but then tells the barista he’d like a grande caramel macchiato. Connor pays, and the barista gives him his drink first since it just requires her to pour some coffee into a cup. Then he and Evan step to the end of the bar to wait for the other drinks. 

Connor sips his too hot and too bitter dark roast. 

Evan turns to look at him, and he’s frowning deeply. Connor looks at him for a long moment. “What?” he says. 

“I-I don’t get you,” Evan says, still frowning. Looking all conflicted and thoughtful. “Zoe was, like. A real bitch to you j-just now? Why are you getting her coffee?”

Connor sips his own coffee and tries to figure out how to answer that. 

Because she’s his fucking sister. 

Because he knows she hates him but he… wants her not to hate him. 

He wants to make things less… shitty between them. 

He sighs and shrugs and looks at Evan’s stupidly cute and concerned face. “I dunno,” He says quietly. “I fucked up a lot of stuff before I went off to Hanover. I was… trust me, I was way worse to her than she’s being to me. I dunno. I just. I want to try to… be better?”

Evan’s eyebrows knit together. He presses his lips into a flat line. “I don’t like how she’s treating you.”

Connor shrugs again. Sips his coffee. “Trust me. I probably… deserve worse.” 

Evan opens his mouth like he’s about to tell Connor he doesn’t deserve worse and part of Connor actually kind of wants to hear it. Wants to have someone tell him he’s not garbage, that he’s doing okay that he’s not the one fucking everything up this time. 

But Evan doesn’t. 

And Connor’s… stupidly annoyed about it. So annoyed that when Evan picks up his and Zoe’s drink and they start heading to the door, Connor has a very vivid mental image of just viciously smacking the coffees out of his hands, letting them splatter all over Evan’s shoes. 

He doesn’t do it. 

But he thinks about it for a long fucking minute. 

Connor takes a deep breath. Holds the door open for Evan as they walk back out to Connor’s car. Zoe’s sitting in the backseat still, sunk down low so only the very top of her head is visible from the window. 

Connor doesn’t get the point in her hiding. Everyone already knows that she got grounded and needs to get a ride to school from him. 

He goes around to the passenger side and gets the door for Evan since his hands are full. Then he swings around to the driver’s side and starts the car, putting his coffee in the cupholder. 

“Here,” Evan says to Zoe, holding out her drink. 

She stares at him in surprise. “Oh,” Zoe says. A smile, tentative but real, overtakes her face. “Thank you.”

“Connor’s the one who g-got it for you,” Evan says, his tone almost… angry. Annoyed. Bitter or pissed off or something. 

Zoe says nothing. She takes a sip. Connor watches from the mirror. 

“I think,” Evan says, his cheeks a little pink because he is very clearly frustrated right now, “That the, um. That the pr-proper response is ‘thank you.’” 

Connor’s eyes slide over to Evan to try to figure out what precisely his move is here. He’s got no idea, no idea whatsoever what Evan’s trying to do. Like does he think he can force Zoe to be nicer to Connor? Because that’s got a fucking snowball’s chance in hell of happening. Just because Connor wants things to get better doesn’t mean that they’re going to actually get better. 

The moment passes. 

Connor puts the car in reverse and pulls out of the Starbucks parking lot. The drive to school is pretty quiet after that, just the sounds of Linkin Park on a too quiet stereo and the rush of other cars around them. 

Zoe doesn’t apologize. 

But Connor’s kind of pleased that at least Evan thinks she ought to. That’s something. Right?

* * *

It’s a weird week. 

Just… weird. 

It’s weird to be in a car with both Zoe and Connor, who are clearly just… not getting along. Zoe either ignores Connor completely or makes snarky remarks, Connor has this look on his face like he’s a puppy someone kicked, and despite all Zoe’s bitchiness, Connor still stops at Starbucks every morning and gets Zoe a venti skinny vanilla latte, which she never thanks him for. 

Connor takes his coffee black and it makes Evan feel a little bit strange. It just seems a weird choice. He doesn’t do cream or sugar or anything else, just plain black coffee. 

When Evan asks about it, Connor shrugs and says he likes it, but he screws up his face when he drinks it sometimes, like it’s too bitter, and Evan…

Feels weird about it. 

He thinks that maybe it’s not that Connor doesn’t like cream and sugar in his coffee. 

That’s not what’s happening here. 

It’s that Connor feels like he can’t have cream and sugar in his coffee. Because he’s… 

Evan’s not stupid, he knows what an eating disorder is. It’s just not the kind of thing he’d ever associated with guys before. Girls get them, sure, but guys? 

Then again, Connor’s gay, so… maybe it’s that?

Or maybe it’s a fucking illness and illnesses don’t really care about gender or sexuality or whatever, they just want to fuck you up. 

It takes a while for Evan to figure out what his plan is going to be here. He feels like if he just goes up to Connor and says “hey, so I’ve noticed you don’t eat, could you knock that off?” that is not going to go well. 

He’s willing to put money on that being the absolute wrong approach. 

Evan’s going to have to be… sneaky about this. He’s going to have to figure out how he’s going to get Connor to eat stuff without making it super humiliating. 

Without making him gag. 

That’s the other thing Evan’s noticed. It’s not like Connor’s refusing to eat, it’s like he  _ can’t. _ Like there’s some kind of weird block going on. 

Evan hates it. 

A lot. 

A whole lot. 

And part of him is pissed off about it, because Evan’s gone without food more times than he can count over the past nine years. Longer than that, actually. Sometimes his mom couldn’t afford groceries, so they’d have to skip meals sometimes. 

Evan doesn’t remember his mom as clearly as he used to, but he does remember sometimes she’d serve him dinner and she wouldn’t eat. He’d ask her where her dinner was and she’d say she already ate. A couple of times, he’d cry because his mom didn’t want to eat with him. 

Looking back, she probably didn’t eat so that he could. 

The Murphys are loaded. Completely loaded. It’s not like Connor can’t afford food. So him choosing not to eat? Deciding that he’s not going to?

Part of Evan is just… fucking furious about it. 

But then he’ll see Connor try to choke down an apple, taking small bites and trying not to gag, and he can’t be pissed off because he’s just too sad. Too fucking devastated about the whole thing. 

Connor’s seeing a therapist, Evan knows that much. 

Hopefully this is something they’re talking about. 

But it might not be, because Connor doesn’t see to want to acknowledge it, and Evan remembers seeing this really fucking depressing documentary about some girl dying of anorexia freshman year in Health class. 

He’s not going to lose Connor to this. 

He fucking refuses. 

So Evan does some research. Goes to the school library, searches up books about nutrition. Turns out there are a bunch of them at this school, none of which are missing pages or have dicks drawn on them. They don’t answer every question Evan has, but they give him somewhere to start. 

He asks Heidi if he can use her laptop to do some research online on Wednesday, only to have her disappear off and come back with a laptop he doesn’t recognize. 

“This was David’s,” she says, her voice only wobbling a little bit. “It’s an iBook. He got it brand new a couple of months before he died, he was always upgrading to the newest model of things. It’s not much use sitting around in the office gathering dust.”

Evan looks at her carefully. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to use this?”

Heidi looks right back at him. “It’s yours now.”

Evan feels his breath catch. He shakes his head. “No.”

“You can use it for school,” Heidi insists. “It’ll be useful.”

“I can’t-”

“You can,” Heidi interrupts firmly. “Okay?”

Evan swallows hard. 

For a moment, he feels like he could cry. 

He nods, then opens up the iBook. It takes him a while to figure out how to use it, but then he’s away. He looks through a couple of websites, does some research about foods that help with brain function, foods that are recommended for kids their age to help them with concentration and learning and all that shit, because Evan has a feeling that if he’s going to convince Connor to eat more, he’s going to have to, like, walk the talk here. 

It’s not the worst idea, anyway. He’s spent so many years living off peanut butter and mac and cheese or just nothing that he may as well do some research on what’s going to be good for him. 

Evan spends a bit of time diligently taking notes on different types of foods and what they do. The positive effects they have. He makes detailed lists, trying to figure out what kinds of things would be easiest to start with. Things they could, like, both eat at school without it being weird. 

When he’s got a bit of a game plan, he has a look through the kitchen. Heidi shows up in the middle of his search and seems a little taken aback. 

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Evan says, his face burning with embarrassment. 

Heidi walks over and looks at his notes, sitting on the counter, then looks up at him, her expression quizzical. “What’s this?”

“A list of foods that help with brain function,” Evan says, his voice small. “And, like… concentration or whatever? I, uh…” 

He wants to lie. To make up some kind of story about how he’s trying to improve his grades. 

But he’s worried. 

And maybe he doesn’t have to be worried alone. 

“Connor’s not eating,” he admits softly. “It’s, like… a thing? That he doesn’t eat? And… I want to help, but I need, like… facts. Some kind of a plan. And he’s not going to just listen to me if I tell him to start eating or whatever, I’m going to have to… I don’t know, lead by example or whatever? So I’m…” 

He trails off. Looks at Heidi, whose eyes are wide. He feels a pang in his chest. “Fuck,” he mutters, starting to panic. “Fuck, this is so weird, I’m g-going through your k-kitchen like some kind of f-freak, I d-d-didn’t even a-ask you I’m so-so-so sorry I should have asked I should have-”

“You live here, Evan,” Heidi interrupts, taking a step toward them. “This is your home now, okay? This is your kitchen, too, you’re not doing anything wrong.”

Evan blinks. Tries not to cry. 

“Okay.”

Heidi picks up the list. “Right,” she says. “Okay, so this is what we need then.” She looks back at Evan. “I’ll talk to Rosa about picking things up when she gets the groceries.”

Evan stares. “You don’t have to-”

“I’m not blind, Evan,” Heidi says, her voice firm. “I’ve known Connor his entire life. I can see that he’s not okay.” Her shoulders sag a little. “Connor was born just a few months before David and I got married. He was at the wedding.” She smiles a little. “He was so cute in his little baby suit. I’ve got a photo in my office, let me show you.”

Heidi runs off, leaving Evan standing there a little bewildered, but she’s back seconds later with a framed photo, which she hands to him wordlessly. 

Evan looks at it for a long moment. 

He’s seen photos of David before. Seen photos of David and Heidi on their wedding day before, even. They’re all over the house. But those are posed and staged and elegant and this is…

This is different. 

Heidi’s in her wedding dress, holding onto a chubby baby with ears that stick out. Evan can see immediately that it’s Connor, who is genuinely decked out in a shirt and waistcoat and pants and even a tiny little tie, which is… ridiculous but adorable. Connor’s looking up at Heidi with this big toothless baby grin, reaching both hands toward her face. 

Upon closer inspection, he’s definitely got his fingers up her nose. 

There’s a younger looking Mrs. Murphy standing a little ways away, looking embarrassed in a fancy dress, but Evan’s far more interested in the way Heidi’s grinning, the way her mouth is open like they’ve caught her mid-laugh, about how David’s arm is around her and he’s looking at Connor with this expression of absolute delight, absolute adoration, like little baby Connor is just the best thing ever. 

“David told me there was something wrong with Connor,” Heidi says, her voice barely above a whisper. “Before he died. Connor was… he was in bad shape, he was drunk or high or something and he came up the wrong driveway and showed up at our house, and David… David tried to tell me that there was something seriously wrong. And I just…” Heidi shrugs. Looks a little helpless. “I just told him that Connor was a spoiled rich kid who’d never had a real problem in his life.”

Evan flinches. 

He can’t take his eyes off this tiny, baby version of his friend. 

“That’s not true,” Evan says quietly.

“I know that now,” Heidi replies, just as quietly. Evan sees her steady her shoulders. Tears his gaze away from the photo to look at her properly. She’s looking at him intently. 

Evan wants to say something but he’s not sure what. 

“You are one of the kindest people I have ever had the privilege of knowing,” she says, her voice slow and deliberate. “You have been through so much, so many people have let you down and still your instinct is to be kind. That isn’t something everybody has, Evan. It really isn’t.”

Evan thinks he might cry for a moment. He shakes his head. “I’m not-”

“You are,” Heidi says firmly, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t sell yourself short, sweetheart.” She squeezes his shoulder, then picks up the list again. “Okay,” she says. “So. Let’s get organized, huh?”

* * *

Larry is surprised when on Tuesday afternoon Heidi shows up to his office with Chinese. 

Apparently this is becoming their thing. 

“How’d you know my hearing got cancelled?” Larry asks her immediately. 

“Please. I still have an in with Rhonda,” Heidi says and Larry feels immediately foolish. Of course she does. Heidi always befriended the administrative staff at the firm. 

She’d know to check with his assistant to see if he was free before just showing up. 

She sets the takeout bag on Larry’s desk and he smiles. Eddie’s. Heidi opens the various containers and they exchange work stories and dig in for a few minutes. It’s pleasant. Makes Larry realize how much he misses working with Heidi over the last year. And David. 

His office feels a lot lonelier without the two of them popping in from time to time to get his opinion or to offer theirs. 

“What’s going on?” Larry asks after a little while. He has a feeling this isn’t actually a social call. His fear is confirmed when Heidi’s smile slips off of her face. He’s immediately worried. Did Connor do something to get Evan into some kind of trouble? 

…Did Zoe? 

Heidi presses her lips into a slight frown. “I wanted to talk to you about Connor.”

Larry braces himself. If she tells him his son needs to stay away from her kid again, Larry will have words with her. The kids haven’t done anything even remotely suspect since the fight at the beginning of the school year. Last time Evan was over, he and Connor were in Connor’s room quizzing each other for a history test. 

“Evan tells me that… that Connor doesn’t really. Eat,” Heidi says, looking uncomfortable. Sad. 

“Oh,” Larry says, his heart squeezing painfully. Part of him is immediately angry and embarrassed that Evan’s noticed. Connor keeps swearing that he’s trying, that he’s not skipping meals when he’s at school, but Larry’s had his suspicions. Connor’s clothes  _ were _ looking a bit loose again. 

“I don’t want to intrude but… is something going on with Connor?”

Larry nods, a lump rising in his throat. His mind floods with memories of doctors and specialists and the clinical scent of a hospital. How Connor had to be given IV nutrition when he was hospitalized because the doctors said he was dangerously underweight for his height. 

“Larry that’s. That’s really dangerous?” Heidi says. 

Neither of them are touching the food she’s brought anymore. 

“I know,” Larry says. He rubs a hand over his face wearily. “Fuck.”

Heidi glances around. 

Passes him a tissue which is it’s own variety of humiliation. Larry wipes his face again, unable to look at her. “I thought… I thought he was getting better.”

Heidi nods. “So this has been going on for a while?”

Larry nods to confirm. Ashamed of himself. Ashamed this is still happening, ashamed to be caught unaware. “Since he started high school?” Larry confesses. “We thought. At first we thought it was… that it was the drugs? Connor was taking a lot of drugs. I’m not. I’m  _ still  _ not sure what all he was on honestly. And he was so sick when he finished ninth grade, we just. Let a lot of things go because we were so scared he could try again-”

Larry realizes he’s said too much a moment too late. 

“Try what again?”

Larry clears his throat. He can’t lie to Heidi. She’s one of his oldest friends. “Try to kill himself again.”

Heidi looks devastated. “I didn’t know,” She practically whispers. Her eyes are huge and glassy. Larry swallows painfully. “I didn’t know. When?”

Larry shakes his head. “May… May last year.” 

Heidi’s eyes tear up. “May…?” She repeats softly. 

Larry nods. “Right before he finished ninth grade.” His voice gives out, breaks. He clears his throat a few times. “I… I found him.”

Heidi looks horrified. 

“We got him into see a doctor. We tried everything we could think of, medication, therapy, hypnosis at one point,” Larry says bitterly. “But the moment Connor came home, he was right back to partying and using and… he kept saying it was a mistake. An accident. But there was a note.” Larry lets that sit there for a moment. Heidi looks so damn crushed. “He left a  _ note _ .”

Heidi looks heartbroken. 

“He said he never… he never thought of himself as a quitter but that things were…” Larry can’t make himself go on. “Kids at school got a hold of it. They. People call him Quitter.” 

“I had no idea,” Heidi admits. “All this time I thought… I assumed that Cynthia. That it was about David?”

Larry laughs bitterly. “To be honest I’m not sure that it isn’t.” He shakes his head. “Connor can tell too. She’s more…” he shrugs helplessly. He didn’t intend to unload all of this on her. 

“Larry I’m so sorry.” 

“Cynthia and I were sure it was the drugs that made him… so thin,” Larry says, trying to explain. “We didn’t know. Not at first.” He clears his throat again. 

Heidi nods. Clicks her tongue synthetically, reaching out to pat Larry’s arm. 

“But then. The drugs stopped and. He went away to Hanover?” Larry shakes his head. “When he came home for Christmas he looked better. Healthier. He’d put weight back on, he ate with us at meals…” Larry takes a deep breath. “He looked. Skeletal when he came home at the end of May. I didn’t. I wasn’t sure what to do. I try to make sure he’s eating and Cynthia’s been on this whole vegan kick, I. He’s in therapy but…” 

_ But it’s not working. But he’s just getting sicker.  _

“I don’t know how to help him.”

Heidi nods. She goes into her purse. Pulls out a list, written in her neat handwriting. She passes it across the desk to Larry. “I did a little research,” she says. “Of doctors in the area who specialize in…”

Larry nods, feeling that lump rising in his throat again. “I’m…. thank you?”

“I just want to help,” Heidi says. “I don’t know how useful it will be. It seems… like most of them only treat girls?”

Larry nods. “I’ll make some calls. Thank you. Truly, I.” He stops. “I haven’t been able to talk about this… Cynthia’s…”

Not there.

She’s a million miles away. They’re a million worlds apart. The distance is so wide that Larry doesn’t even know where to start to attempt to repair it. 

“I know,” Heidi says. She offers him a pained looking smile. “I’m sorry. I held you responsible for what she did…”

“You’re right,” Larry replies dismissively. She is right. “I didn’t know what she was up to, but there’s no excuse for me not knowing. And she has been truthly so terrible to you.”

Heidi shakes her head. “That’s not the important thing right now. “

Larry doesn’t dispute it. “Still. Thank you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Sugar We're Going Down" by Fall Out Boy. 
> 
> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! at the Disco


	18. I've Got A Hunger Twisting My Stomach Into Knots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are things Evan can't fix. There are things Zoe doesn't want to admit. There are things Connor is scared to say.

It starts with a banana. 

Well half of one. 

When Connor thinks back, he can trace it to the half of a banana. It was a Monday he thinks. Zoe was allowed to ride to school with Tommy and Madison again. She went to the homecoming dance over the weekend, which their parents argued about a lot. 

Evan still rides to school with him. So it obviously wasn’t like. A ploy to spend more time with Zoe. Or if it was, Evan’s too polite to refuse Connor’s rides to school now that she’s not riding with him. 

Evan gets in the car, Connor puts on some music, and they go through Starbucks. There’s an awkward moment where Connor accidentally grabs Evan’s coffee and doesn’t realize until he’s had a sip. The sugary sweetness makes Connor’s teeth ache immediately. “Shit sorry,” he mutters, “this is yours.” He hands Evan his cup. 

Evan takes a sip immediately like he doesn’t care that Connor’s mouth was just there. 

Connor smiles. 

Evan’s riding shotgun and peeling a banana. He breaks it in half as Connor pulls out onto the main road. 

Then he hands the half still in the peel to Connor. 

Connor stares for a second too long and someone honks at him at a stoplight. 

Right. He takes his foot off the brake. “What’s this?” He says stupidly like he’s never met a banana before. 

“You have a test in French,” Evan says. “Brain food.”

Connor struggles to connect the dots. The banana peel is greasy in his hand. Evan’s eating the peeled half. 

Connor takes a cautious bite of the banana. Thinks about his apparently huge ears, imagining he looks like a fucking monkey driving a car. 

The banana is exactly how Connor likes them. Just a couple of brown spots on the peel. Still firm but sweet. 

Evan starts quizzing him on his French vocab from flash cards they made over the weekend. Evan’s not even taking French. 

Connor does his best to answer. 

Takes the occasional bite of his banana half. 

It’s gone by the time they get to school. Well except for the nasty little dark nub thing in the ass end. Connor has always thought that was pretty gross. Connor’s weirdly surprised he was able to eat all of his banana half. 

Evan takes the peel and tosses it in the trash while they’re walking in. Connor says bye and goes to French. 

This continues for a couple of weeks. Bananas at first. Then there’s blueberries (which started when Evan manages to  _ throw a blueberry into Connor’s open mouth _ somehow when he was talking about how the lead singer of Panic! at the Disco is only a couple of years older than them, a fact which Connor kind of obsessed over when he first learned it because that guy is super talented and started playing in the band in high school). Connor almost chokes on the blueberry, almost chokes and swerves into the other lane and murders them both, but the two of them are just howling with laughter by the time they get to school so it’s not like. Such a big deal. It’s okay. Kind of funny really. 

Connor doesn’t immediately catch on to what Evan’s doing. At first he’s like. Maybe Evan is just really into fresh fruit. Whatever. That could be true. 

But after Evan starts showing up with, like, stuff at lunch and insisting Connor share it with him, Connor’s caught wise of his sneaky little plot. 

He’s feeding Connor. Making sure he eats. 

At first Connor’s brain is, like, a thousand percent convinced that it’s because Evan hates him and wants him to be huge and gross and disgusting beyond belief. Like he wants Connor to be enormous and fat and… 

But then Connor thinks about it. 

Like. Evan’s not trying to force feed him donuts or cake. And every time he offers something to Connor, he comes prepared with like. All of these facts about why certain foods are like. Good for you. 

So Connor decides not to mention it. It’s just like. Some blueberries. Or almonds. A banana or two. 

Connor tries to tell himself there’s no need to make a big huge hairy deal out of it. It’s not like he can’t just… refuse if he doesn’t want to eat. 

Maybe a week or two later, at the dinner table, Connor’s pushing his food around his plate. Zoe’s complaining about something or other at school, and his mom is drinking like a fish and Connor is just wishing desperately to be excused from the table. He’s not hungry. 

Like actually not hungry. 

Evan conned him into eating half of a salad at lunch. Connor spent most of English trying to decide if he needed to throw up. It was just a salad but there was Caesar dressing on it. Evan had to get it from the cafeteria since he overslept that morning. 

There were croutons in the salad. And Parmesan cheese on it. 

He tried to avoid that as best as he could but the dressing was sort of unavoidable and he’d eaten some of the chicken and now at the dinner table Connor is definitely not hungry. 

“Are you not gonna eat that?” Zoe asks, pointing to the eggplant whatever his mom made for dinner. “Because I’m starving.”

Connor’s surprised she’s talking to him. He thought she was gonna resume ignoring him. He slides his plate over to Zoe without a word. 

His mom shoots him a look. “If you’re going to complain when there is tofu, the least you could do is actually eat when there isn’t,” she says to him. 

Connor feels anger ripple through him. He didn’t even ask her to back off the soy shit. His dad did. 

Connor looks at Larry, hoping he’ll say something, but he’s looking at his phone and frowning. 

Great. 

Connor clears his throat. “I’m not hungry.”

His mom rolls her eyes. “I’m not really interested in having to buy you all new clothes because you’re suddenly concerned about how you look.”

Connor feels that cut through him. 

His hands tighten into fists. He clenches his jaw. 

“And Zoe, stop eating that this minute,” his mother snaps. “I’m not buying you new things when you balloon because you can’t stop having seconds.”

Zoe’s jaw drops open. “Seriously?” She snaps. “There’s like. Maybe three hundred calories in this whole thing.”

“On top of the chili fries you came home with,” her mom mutters, “you could afford to cut back.”

Zoe’s eyes grow glassy and her cheeks go pink. Connor wants to say something. That’s not fair. She can’t bitch at both of them for opposite fucking reasons, that’s not fucking fair it’s not fair. 

“Cynthia that’s enough,” their dad snaps. “Kids, you’re excused. I’m going to talk to your mother.”

Connor stands up immediately. Zoe sniffles then gets to her feet and Connor’s heart thuds against his chest. 

Zoe starts to walk toward the stairs. Connor clears his throat. 

He should say something. 

He needs to say something. 

“Wanna go for a walk with me?” He blurts awkwardly. 

Zoe’s sad face transforms into a mask of anger. “Fuck you.” She turns and goes up the stairs. He hears her door slam. 

Connor feels that like she punched him. Stands there for a long moment, feeling like he has whiplash and hearing the sounds of his parents starting to argue in the next room. 

Fuck this. 

He grabs his skateboard and leaves, heading over to Heidi’s. He rings the bell and waits. 

Evan answers the door. He looks the same as he did at school today. He gives Connor a smile when he sees him, but it drops immediately when he gets a look at him. “What’s up?”

Connor tries to shrug. “I can’t be home right now.”

“Okay,” Evan says, nodding. “Come in, j-just gimme a sec.” Connor stands in the foyer and remembers Evan puking there when they first met. Feels his stomach turn. 

Tries to remind himself that sneaking into his neighbor’s bathroom to throw up is a weird and creepy and fucked up thing to do. 

Evan appears at the top of the stairs with his skateboard. “Right,” he says. “Let’s go.”

Evan seems to understand immediately that Connor doesn’t actually want to talk. They ride around their subdivision for a while. 

There’s a small abandoned church just outside of the gates. Connor used to skate there ages ago. He and Evan screw around on their boards for a bit. Neither of them is going to be in the next X-Games, but it’s something to do. Takes Connor’s mind off of his mom’s nasty comments and Zoe’s glassy eyes and his not defending either of them. 

Shit. 

Connor feels suddenly dizzy and fucks up the landing on his half assed kick flip and eats it, totally crashes into the asphalt and his elbow stings viciously upon impact. “Shit,” he mutters, turning his arm to look at it. 

“F-fuck are you okay?” Evan says, rushing toward him. 

“Fine,” Connor says, trying to get a better look at the damage. It’s just a scrape. A bad one but just a scrape. It’s bleeding a bit. Okay. A lot. 

“Dude no you’re l-like bleeding,” Evan says, his face right with worry. 

“Yeah that’s why you’re supposed to wear pads,” Connor mutters. 

“Lemme look at it,” Evan says when Connor pulls his arm away. 

But that’s not what Connor’s scared he’ll see. 

_ You never want to talk to me.  _

_ Some people have real problems, Connor.  _

“It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“N-n-no you’re not,” Evan says stubbornly, grabbing Connor’s wrist to stop him from twisting away. 

He pulls his hand away fast. 

There’s blood on it, Connor notices. 

“What’s that?” Evan says quietly. 

“Nothing,” Connor says. Because it is. It’s  _ nothing _ . 

“Bullshit Connor,” Evan says, sounding almost angry. “When did that happen?”

Like a week ago. Connor heals like shit these days. He tries to hide his arm against his middle. Glares at Evan even though he’s objectively sitting on the ground bleeding like a fucking loser. 

“Connor,” Evan says again. 

“I’m fine,” Connor snaps. 

“That wasn’t - it’s-it’s not your m-mom right?”

Connor’s eyes pop wide, “Holy shit,  _ no. _ ”

“Then what…?” Evan looks fucking lost. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Connor says. He’s definitely bleeding all over his t-shirt now. “It’s fine.”

Evan’s eyes go sort of… sad. Big and sad And a little distant. Far away. “You… you’re doing that. To yourself.”

“No,” Connor spits immediately. “Fuck you.”

Evan’s face, if possible, looks sadder.

Fuck. 

Connor fucking. Sucks. At lying to him. He’s such an asshole. 

“Fine,” he says. “So? It’s not a big deal. Just… sometimes. Whatever.”

“Are you okay?” Evan asks. He looks spooked. 

“No. I’m fucking not, alright? Can we just drop it?”

Evan looks like he wants to argue but lets it go. The pair of them walk slowly back to Heidi’s house, Connor limping slightly because he landed hard on his hip. When they get inside, Evan seems to produce a first aid kit out of fucking nowhere. 

Connor opens his mouth to argue but Evan’s face makes him reconsider. He looks pissed off. Connor just offers up his bleeding elbow to his friend. Evan cleans out the scrape with peroxide because there’s like. Dirt and whatever in it. Connor bites the inside of his cheek so he doesn’t flinch like a little bitch. 

Evan’s hands are efficient and surprisingly gentle. Connor finds himself thinking that Evan should be a doctor. He’s got the patience for it. 

Connor has no patience ever. 

Evan’s dabbing some kind of antibacterial stuff on the scrape and then he covers it with a big bandaid. Connor thinks back stupidly to being a little kid and getting bandaids on owies, how his mom would always press a light kiss to the injury and tell him to go play when he was patched up. 

Evan doesn’t kiss his elbow. Obviously. 

That would be fucking weird. 

Instead he reaches out and snaps the hair tie on Connor’s wrist. It slaps painfully against his skin. Stings. 

“Fuck what the hell?” He yelps. 

Evan shrugs. “Open c-cuts leave you at risk for all kinds of infections,” he says softly. “Y-you need to be smarter about this.”

* * *

Evan doesn’t sleep that night. 

He’s up all night, doing even  _ more  _ research. Trying to find things that will help, sifting through bullshit on the internet that would probably just make things worse. He finds some academic journals online about self-harm and gets stuck into them, fighting his way through dense, academic language, trying to make sure he understands. 

Facts. 

If he has facts, if he has a plan, he can deal with this. He can…

He can…

He can’t lose Connor. He can’t let him keep hurting himself, he…

Evan pores over the information, goes over everything he can and everything he reads just makes him more scared, more freaked out, and there aren’t any fucking  _ answers, _ he can’t find a way to make this make sense, and as the night turns into the early morning, he starts to realize that he can’t fix this. 

He absolutely, one hundred percent cannot fix this, and it’s breaking his heart. 

Evan’s still awake when Heidi gets up in the morning, hunched over his computer, and her eyes widen in alarm at the state of him. 

“Were you here all night?” she demands, closing the iBook. “Evan, sweetie, what’s going on?”

“Research,” Evan says wearily. “I got… caught up.”

“What were you researching?” Heidi asks, something careful in her voice, and Evan reaches out to grab his notes and folds them up into a tiny square before she can look at them. Her face falls. She sits down next to him. “Honey. What’s going on?”

“I’m scared,” he blurts out. “I’m really scared, Heidi, I...”

He trails off. Wipes his face. His eyes are burning with lack of sleep, his shoulders hurt and he’s kind of… buzzing, this weird vibration all over him. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, he…

Fuck. 

He used to be able to go without sleep for days with no problem. Living in this big fancy rich person house is making him soft. 

“What’s going on?” Heidi asks again, and she reaches out and brushes some hair off his face, and it makes him feel like he’s going to lose it completely. Just… break down and cry. 

“I’m worried about Connor,” he says in a small voice. “I… he’s the first real friend I’ve ever had? And he-he-he is h-hurting himself and I don’t know how to fix it, I want to  _ fix  _ it.”

“Sweetheart, that is not your job,” Heidi says softly. “It’s not your job to fix things.”

“ _ You _ fix things,” Evan says instantly, then feels like a complete and utter fucking kid. He knows he should shut up, but he just keeps on going. “Y-you jumped in and f-fixed my whole stupid life and I-I-I can’t even help my only f-friend, I-”

“I didn’t fix anything,” Heidi interrupts, something soft in her voice. “Honey, I just… don’t go around thinking that I swooped in and fixed you, because I didn’t.”

Something inside Evan shifts. He blinks back hot tears. “Right,” he says. “Because I’m not fixed.”

“Because you’re not broken,” Heidi counters immediately. “You’re smart and kind and funny and you…” She looks at him, her expression a little helpless. “All I did was give you a chance. You just needed a chance, and you did everything else on your own.” She smiles, and though it’s a little feeble, it’s real. “The principal at Harbor called me the other day to tell me that you’re the top of the junior class.”

“Yeah, well,” Evan mutters, “I have to keep up my GPA.” He considers. “Also I’m pretty sure that the person who’s supposed to be top of the class wants to k-kick my ass.”

Heidi looks at him. “You could take Alana Beck.”

Evan blinks. “What h-happened to not getting into fights?” he jokes feebly. 

Heidi puts her hands up in mock defense. “Hey, I’m not saying start a fight,” she says with this small smile. “I’m just saying you could definitely kick her ass.”

“C-cool,” Evan replies immediately. “So chivalry is dead, apparently.”

They laugh for a little, then Evan snaps back to the reality of the situation. 

His eyes fill with hot, embarrassing tears again. 

Fuck. 

Fuckfuckfuck. 

Heidi doesn’t say anything. Just wraps her arms around him and pulls him into a tight hug. And that just… breaks him. 

He completely fucking loses it, the way he hasn’t done since he was a kid, and it should be humiliating, he should be completely fucking humiliated, he should be making plans to get the hell out of Newport because he can’t let anyone see him this vulnerable, he just can’t. 

But Heidi just holds onto him and lets him cry for what feels like hours and hours. Lets him cry the way he hasn’t cried in years. The way he hasn’t cried since…

Since his mom. 

He hasn’t cried like this since his mom. For some reason, he’s been thinking about his mom a lot tonight, too. His mom and her young face and sad eyes, the way she’d tell him she already ate so she didn’t have to admit that she was making sure he was fed at her expense, the way she’d snap the hair-tie around her wrist and bite her lip, the way she’d sometimes spend days in bed where she wouldn’t get out and he’d see band-aids on her wrists and try to kiss them better in that stupid, naive little kid way, only it didn’t help. 

It didn’t help. 

He couldn’t fix his mom. 

And he can’t fix Connor, either.

* * *

Heidi thinks her heart is breaking. Just shattering into a million pieces. 

She holds onto Evan as tight as she can and lets him cry, rubbing his back and hanging onto him until he runs out of tears, and her heart is breaking completely for this kid. 

She can’t help it, she’s tearing up as well, but she’s trying her best to stay strong, because she’s got to keep it together for poor Evan who has been through so much, this poor kid who has suffered and been dealt such a bad hand and is hurting, a round of fresh hurt, because he’s got such a big heart that it feels other people’s pain, too. 

Evan cries quietly, Heidi notices. He’s almost completely silent when he cries, like he’s had to learn not to draw attention to himself. Heidi thinks about what Evan’s said about his dad and she wants to drive to Chino and rip the guy’s balls off.

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

It takes a very long time for Evan to stop crying, but when he does, he relaxes against her for a long moment, like he’s too exhausted to pull away. Too exhausted to move. 

He needs sleep, Heidi decides. He absolutely needs to just sleep. Rest. Then maybe she’ll be able to get some more information about why he’s been up all night, why he’s so upset, what’s got him so worked up. 

“Come on,” she says quietly, pulling away a little. “Let’s get you to bed, huh?”

Evan looks at her through wet eyelashes. “I have to go to school.”

Heidi shakes her head. “Not today. You need to get some rest, okay honey?” She tries to smile. “It’s Friday, anyway. Let’s make it a long weekend, okay?” 

Evan nods. Wipes his face. 

His eyes and cheeks are both red. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “For, like, losing it, fuck-”

“You’re allowed,” Heidi tells him softly. “Evan, you’re allowed to lose it sometimes, okay? Especially around me.” He looks uncertain, but he doesn’t look away. “You’re safe here,” she continues. “Okay, honey? You’re safe here. It’s okay.”

Once Evan’s gone to bed, Heidi pulls out her phone and gives Larry a quick call, asking him to let Connor know that Evan’s taking the day off. 

“Is everything okay?” Larry asks, and she can practically hear the frown in his voice. 

“It will be,” Heidi says simply, not wanting to get into it. “But… maybe you and I can touch base on the weekend. Okay?”

There’s a pause. Larry’s voice a little pained when he replies. “Is Evan safe? Did something happen with him and Connor-”

“I don’t think it’s like that,” Heidi assures Larry. She tries to figure out how to explain. “Evan cares about Connor. A lot. I think he’s just… it’s hard, when someone you care about is suffering.”

Larry sighs. “Yeah,” he says, his voice heavy. “I definitely understand that.”

Heidi works from home that day. She wants to make sure Evan’s okay, wants to make sure that when he wakes up, he’s not waking up to an empty house. He surfaces just after one in the afternoon, still a little bleary-eyed and definitely still tired but… calmer. 

Clearly, a little embarrassed. 

Rosa went out to get groceries mid-morning, so there are fresh bagels, and the two of them sit and eat them at the kitchen island. Evan, it seems, wants to avoid the subject of his all-nighter, so asks a series of polite questions about Heidi’s work. 

Heidi answers them, happy to just chat for a while, but eventually she needs to cut to the chase. 

“Did something happen with Connor? To make you so worried?”

Evan’s expression is guarded. Careful. He frowns a little. “It’s not mine to tell,” he says after a moment, his shoulders sinking. 

That sends a chill through Heidi. Right through her. 

The conversation with Larry echoes through her head. 

_ “We were so scared he could try again.” _

_ “Try what again?” _

_ “Try to kill himself again.” _

Heidi considers her next move carefully. “Is Connor safe right now?” she asks, looking at Evan intently. “Just tell me that.”

Evan takes in a shaky breath. “I hope so?” He seems to shrink in on himself. Lets out the breath, just as shakily. “I… he’s seeing a therapist. I j-j-just think he maybe needs to be more, like, honest about stuff? I…” He looks at Heidi, his expression a little desperate. “I hate that he’s hurting. I hate it.”

“Me too,” Heidi confesses. She looks at Evan. “Do I need to talk to his dad again?”

Evan looks back. Blinks. Narrows his eyes a little. “Again?”

“Larry and I talked,” Heidi says, sensing Evan’s suspicion. “About the food thing.” Evan’s eyes widen in alarm. “If we really want to help him, then we need as many people in his corner as possible.”

“His dad shipped him off to boarding school,” Evan replies immediately, frowning. “Connor was s-so worried he’d get sent away after Zoe’s p-party and-and-and his dad just  _ stood _ there while his mom yelled and-and  _ hit _ him-”

“He’s trying,” Heidi interrupts gently. “Larry’s trying with Connor, he really is. He knows he’s made mistakes and he’s trying to be better. To give Connor what he needs.”

Evan hunches his shoulders. Looks at Heidi, then back to his bagel, his expression unhappy. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, then closes it immediately. 

Focuses back on his food. 

Heidi understands his uncertainty. Understands being scared, being worried. 

She won’t push it any further with Evan. 

But she’ll talk to Larry and suggest maybe that he and Connor need to have a talk of their own.

* * *

His dad knocks on Connor’s door just as Connor finishes pulling on some pants. He’s annoyed to notice his ankles are poking out a little from the legs. 

He can’t stop getting taller. It’s embarrassing. 

His ankles are weirdly wide and too bony. 

Connor decides to wear his boots today to help cover up the too short pant legs. 

“What’s up?” Connor says, nudging open the door while he pulls on socks. 

His dad steps inside. Leans against the door frame. “Hey bud,” he says. 

So Connor’s getting TV Dad Larry again this morning. When did his dad get all nickname-y anyway? Must have been while Connor was away. He definitely would have been a dick about it before otherwise. “Hi,” Connor says, pulling on his other sock. 

His dad’s face clouds. Connor realizes he’s looking at the bandaid Evan gave him last night on his elbow. Connor’s hip and knee are all black and blue this morning, which he learned in the shower. “What happened there?” He asks. 

“Wiped out on my skateboard,” Connor says honestly. “Should have been wearing my elbow pads.” He hasn’t actually bothered with those or his helmet in years. He probably has a deathwish. 

His dad frowns a bit but doesn’t press it. “Alright,” he says. “I just got off the phone with Heidi. Evan’s not going to school today.”

Connor’s heart drops. “What? Why? Is he okay?”

His dad smiles slightly. “He’s alright. He just needs a day to relax.” 

Connor’s face twists into a frown. He sincerely doubts Evan Hansen has ever once in his life taken a day off  _ to relax _ . He opens his mouth to interrogate Larry further, but his dad beats him to the punch. 

“How’s everything been going at school?” He asks. 

Connor narrows his eyes. “Fine I guess?” There’s an exchange student from Germany who is taking junior classes right now and yesterday in the library he called Connor “avoider” which Connor suspects was his Babelfish.com translation of “Quitter” reverse engineered. It might have been funny if the fucking foreign exchange students weren’t in on the nickname now. 

He didn’t tell Evan because. He doesn’t want to get into it. Doesn’t want Evan to know the real reason kids are calling him that. 

He’s not gonna tell his dad either. Nope. His dad has enough to deal with. Connor’s not going to say anything he’s said too much to his dad already about this shit. 

His dad steps into Connor’s room. Idly spins the wheel of Connor’s skateboard, propped against the wall. “Kids at school…” he says, looking at the skateboard, not at Connor. Like looking at him is too hard for Larry. “They’re not still…”

Connor wants to die. Right at that moment he wants a heart attack or a random bolt of lightning or an earthquake. He doesn’t get one. He focuses on doing up the laces on his combat boots. “Sometimes,” he admits. 

“You can talk to me,” his dad says suddenly. He’s looking at Connor. “I know I haven’t… I know I’m not always. But if you’re feeling-”

“I’m fine,” Connor insists. He swears. He’s going to be fine now. He’s  _ trying.  _ Some people have real problems. He is not one of them. He’s just stupid. 

“You don’t have to be,” his dad says. His tone is challenging. 

_ Yes I do,  _ Connor thinks bitterly. 

He has to be because if he’s not, shit will just keep deteriorating. 

“I’m fine,” Connor repeats. 

His dad nods. “You should get going. Don’t want to be late.”

Connor nods from where he’s looking at his shoes. 

School is torture. 

He hasn’t really realized until now how much he relies on Evan to just. Get through the day. By third hour, Connor’s annoyingly starving without Evan bringing him a banana or whatever in the morning. 

Stupid. Connor shouldn’t be relying on him. Evan’s not his babysitter. 

Jared Kleinman seems emboldened by the lack of Evan at lunch. He takes the opportunity to have a seat at Connor’s lunch table and ask Connor if it’s weird for him and Zoe to be “trying to get with the same dude?”

Connor clenches his jaw. Tries to ignore him. If he gets in a fight he could get in trouble. He could make shit worse for his sister. He could make shit worse for Evan. 

“Come on, Quitter, you deaf now?” Jared taunts. 

Connor glares at him. Says nothing. 

He imagines responses in his head. Imagines telling Jared shit like if he does shoot up the school, he’s going after Jared first just to see if he can make Jared piss himself. For all his talk, Connor knows there’s some weight to be afforded to the fact that Jared is afraid of him. 

He doesn’t say it, because knowing his luck he’d end up expelled. Or in jail. 

The principal might be an old friend of his dad’s, but Connor knows there’s limits to what that can provide these days. He’s trouble. 

“Come on, Quitter, you gotta at least make this fun for me,” Jared drawls. 

Connor breathes out through his nose. Breathes in. “You know,” he says softly. “People around here don’t forget stuff.”

Jared looks momentarily worried. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Connor echoes quietly. “And from where I’m sitting? Looks like you just sat down and had lunch with me.” He gives Jared a smile and is rewarded by watching Jared’s face go very pale. “I mean dude. Don’t you have any actual friends to sit with?” 

Jared opens and closes his mouth, momentarily speechless. Connor suspects he touched a nerve. 

“Just like freshman year then, huh? You and me, friendless losers.”

“Fuck off,” Jared says, and he gets up quickly. 

“Missed hanging out with you too,” Connor says, his voice louder now. “But I don’t know if it’s a good idea for us to start dating, Jared. I mean I’m flattered, don’t get me wrong. It seems awfully complicated.”

“Shut up,” Jared barks, but Connor just keeps going. 

“I mean, I know I told you freshman year that size isn’t everything,” Connor goes on, smiling brightly. “But well. I  _ lied. _ ”

Jared looks furious. He abandons his lunch tray and storms off, but not before cursing Connor out under his breath. 

People heard. They definitely heard. 

Connor probably just made everything worse but he doesn’t care. 

He skips his gym class that afternoon because he feels like shit but doesn’t want to risk going to the school nurse again. He knows it’ll just get back to his dad. 

He fucking misses Evan. 

Connor’s pretty sure he’s the reason Evan skipped school today and he hates it. He can’t get the far off look in Evan’s eyes after he saw the cut on Connor’s arm out of his head. 

This’ll be it for them, Connor thinks. Evan’s going to be finished with him for sure now. It’s one thing too many. Connor’s like a… tornado of fucked up shit. And he knows it. He knows. 

He wishes he were different but he doesn’t know how to be any other way. 

Evan probably hates him. He probably skipped school just to avoid him. 

Connor is so stupid. He’s so stupid. 

He doesn’t even do it that much. Normally he can manage his stupidity in other ways. Music. Cigarettes. Throwing up helps sometimes. Weed. He’s trying to stay away from anything harder than pot because he knows how much it fucks him up. 

But when everything else fails… 

Connor doesn’t want to go back to the hospital again. He doesn’t want a repeat trip to rehab. 

He just. Sometimes he can’t handle it. Can’t own it. Can’t manage all of the sickness that seems to crawl under his skin. 

He takes a nap in the back of his car during gym but has a stupid fucking nightmare about like. Bleeding chocolate syrup. Like they used in those old horror movies for blood. 

It freaks him out and Connor ends up hyperventilating in the middle of AP English. Mr. Stevens seems to notice and dismisses him to go to the nurse. 

Connor just goes home. It’s last period anyway and nobody will notice. 

He’s made it this far into the semester without cutting a single class and today he’s cut two. He’s such a fuck up. 

On his drive home, Connor turns on the angriest music he can find and screams along to the lyrics because he needs to get his feelings out somehow. He needs to just be. Different. Better. He needs to be better or Evan’s going to ditch him he’s going to get his ass into trouble again he’s going to ruin everything again. 

Feeling stupidly self sabotaging, Connor gets his phone out and tries to call Miguel. 

Because if he answers, Connor swears he’ll tell him everything. Anything he wants to know. He just can’t be fucking alone right now. 

M doesn’t answer. 

Connor smokes a cigarette on his way home. His chest hurts a bit which each inhale but he doesn’t care he doesn’t care he doesn't care. 

Connor parks his car in the garage. Nobody else is home. 

Home is the loneliest place to be by yourself. 

Connor debates closing the garage door and letting his car run. 

But it’s a huge garage and he runs the risk of someone coming home before…

No he’s not  _ doing  _ this anymore. 

He doesn’t want his family finding him anyway. 

Connor gets out of the car. He’s fucking shaking all over. 

He walks over to Heidi’s house and rings the bell and stares at his toes. He’s so stupid he’s so fucking stupid he’s…

Evan comes to the door. He looks like hell. He’s got big dark circles under his eyes. He’s in sweat pants and a wife beater. Connor can see the veins on his strong arms and the muscles in his chest as he breathes. 

“Hi,” Connor says and his voice comes out all weird. “Are you…”

He never finishes because Evan yanks him into a sudden hug, his grip almost bruising, the action unpracticed somehow, because his elbow knocks against Connor’s which hurts because Connor's elbow is all banged up and neither of them seem to be in agreement about where their arms are supposed to go. 

Connor feels like he could break down right there in the door. He just barely keeps it together. Barely. He’s still shaking. 

He’s taller than Evan. The difference isn’t like. Massively significant but it’s enough to give Connor a second of pause. Evan looks still so young. His hands and feet are out of proportion with the rest of him, like a puppy who hasn’t grown into its paws yet. 

It’s weird to be like this. Have Evan so close. Pushed up against him. He feels surprisingly solid compared to Connor, who feels like he might be made of glass. 

“You’re okay?” Connor chokes out when Evan releases him just as quickly as he grabbed on. 

“N-no,” Evan says softly. 

“I fucked up,” Connor basically whispers. “I fuck up everything.”

Evan shakes his head. “Come in.” 

So Connor does.

* * *

Evan’s so tired. So fucking tired. But Connor’s here and he looks so freaked out that Evan wouldn’t turn him away even if he wanted to. 

He doesn’t want to. He can’t imagine ever wanting to, honestly. 

He’s so fucking scared. 

Still scared, but the fear has stopped being all encompassing and is just kind of quiet and insistent and… there. Something steady and reliable that Evan can get used to. 

He’ll slot it in next to all the others. 

He and Connor sit at the kitchen table. Connor slinks down into the chair, wrapping his arms around himself like he’s trying to get smaller, trying to make himself disappear. 

“A-are you okay?” Evan asks, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Connor doesn’t look at him. Doesn’t say anything for a moment. 

“I ruined it, didn’t I.”

“Ruined what?”

Connor gestures vaguely. “You being, like, nice to me or whatever, I ruined it because I’m such a fucking freak-”

“Do  _ not  _ say that about yourself,” Evan snaps, and Connor visibly flinches. He feels bad for a moment, but continues. “Y-y-you have enough p-people saying that  _ bullshit _ .”

Connor just looks at him with this expression of utter disbelief. He looks very much like he wants to argue with Evan, wants to challenge him, but he also looks tired and scared and incredibly, incredibly young. 

“I didn’t mean to freak you out,” Connor whispers finally. “With the… with what you saw. I didn’t mean to, like, make you angry or whatever-”

“I’m not angry,” Evan says. Which is weird, to be honest, because he’s basically just… a ball full of rage, all the time. 

Right now, though? He’s just too tired to be angry.

And he knows himself well enough to be able to see that most of the time when he’s angry? It’s just… sadness, trying to be tough or whatever. 

“I-I-I just don’t know how to fix it,” Evan blurts out, feeling his hands shake. “How to m-make things better for you, Connor, and I hate it? I h-hate that you’re h-hurting, that you hurt yourself.” He lets out a shaky breath and keeps going, trying to explain, trying not to freak out. “And n-not just what I saw yesterday? It’s not just… you’re hurting yourself by n-not eating, too, and I just want to fix it. I wish I could fix it.”

Something in Connor’s expression twists into this horrible look that’s defeated, sad, guarded and guilty, all at once. “It’s not your job to fix me, Evan-”

“ _ You _ don’t need fixing,” Evan interrupts, his heart pounding too fast in his chest all of a sudden, blood rushing in his ears. “You’re not broken, Connor. You’re just  _ hurting  _ and I can see it and I hate it so much and I just want to… I want to fix it. Fix  _ that _ . Stop you from hurting, not fix  _ you _ , fuck.” 

Connor’s expression doesn’t change. Not really. 

“Bullshit I don’t need fixing,” Connor says after a moment, his voice so bitter. “ _ Bullshit _ . My dad’s freaking out, he’s worried all the time and now you are, too.” He swallows hard. Clenches his jaw. “Look, I’m going to get this figured out, okay? I’m going to be better. Just… give me a chance.” 

Evan feels Connor’s last words as acutely as being stabbed in the chest. He hates the way tears spring to his eyes immediately, burning hot, scratching. It’s so fucking embarrassing. 

But also completely heartbreaking, because Connor’s acting like all this shit is some kind of deal breaker for Evan. 

And that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

* * *

Fuck fuck fuck fuck. He’s making Evan  _ cry.  _

Evan’s a tough guy. Connor’s seen him take punches and get up again immediately like he barely felt it. He’s seen Evan shrug off genuinely awful facts about himself, like his dad and his piece of shit not-step brother hitting him. 

But his fill with fucking tears over Connor’s stupidity. 

That seems unfair. 

Connor’s heart hurts, it squeezes painfully in his chest, thumps an erratic rhythm against his ribs, and Connor can’t take it. He just can’t fucking take it. 

He needs to just.  _ Do  _ something. 

It’s not fair that he’s hurting Evan. Even if it’s justified for Connor to hurt himself, he can’t do this to Evan. Evan’s been through enough. He doesn’t deserve such a fuck up for a friend. And Connor never had much of a reason to care before now.

“I’m gonna… I’ll stop okay?” Connor hears himself promise idiotically. “I’m not gonna do it anymore. I swear. I promise I’m gonna be better okay? Just please…”  _ Don’t go. Please don’t leave. Please don’t disappear.  _ “If you can just not, like, bail?”

He hates how thin and pathetic and whiny his voice comes out. 

Evan looks at him, his face unhappy and… Connor thinks this must have been how he had looked as a little kid. He imagines Evan with red cheeks and eyes and nose running to his mom when some kid was mean on the playground or something. 

“Don’t s-say that unless you- unless you  _ mean  _ it,” Evan says roughly. 

Connor swallows hard. 

Does he mean it? He can’t remember the last time he’s made a promise about himself that he actually kept. 

Obviously he wants to keep it. He wants to swear this to Evan and then just. Do what he says he will. 

“I’ll  _ try _ ,” Connor says, his voice cracking a little. 

Evan sniffs and wipes his eyes and nose with the collar of his shirt. Connor gets a view of his chest, of his stomach where the shirt doesn’t cover when he pulls on it. Objectively wiping tears and snot on a shirt you’re wearing is sort of gross, but Connor feels like. The opposite of grossed out by it. 

Evan’s so… hot. 

_ Jesus get it together _ , Connor scolds himself. Now is not the time. 

Are other people as messed up as he is? Fucking hell. 

“Okay,” Evan says. His eyes narrow a little. “So what’s your plan?”

Connor doesn’t follow. 

“My plan?”

“To stop,” Evan says shortly. “N-no offense dude, b-but I’m not sure you can j-j-just, like,  _ decide _ .”

Fuck. 

Connor doesn’t know. 

He made a promise in under a minute, he didn’t come up with an action plan. He just got here. His face feels hot and Connor feels sort of caught, sort of called out. 

“I can,” he says. He doesn’t know if it’s true. “I can just stop.”

“D-Don’t bullshit me, Connor.”

Evan never seems to stutter or stammer when he says Connor’s name and that feels… nice. Important or whatever. 

Connor frowns. “I. Uh. I mean. I’ll eat more?”

Evan looks unimpressed. 

“Well I’ll… uh.” The back of Connor’s neck is getting hot. “I’ll talk to my shrink?”

Evan’s actually frowning at that. “Really?” He says, his eyebrows up. “B-because it k-kinda sounds like you don’t talk about sh-shit when you go.”

Definitely caught. Connor feels cornered. “I’ll do better,” he promises in a rush. His neck and ears feel so hot. He is going to disintegrate on the spot. 

“I...l…” Connor can’t bring himself to say more. “I’m sorry? I’m screwing this up. I…”

Evan sighs. He looks so exhausted and it’s Connor’s fault. “You just… I th-think m-maybe you need to talk to your dad.”

Connor’s stomach drops. 

He doesn’t expect that. He figured Evan would be the first person to understand wanting to lie to your parents. 

“Why?” He says. “He doesn’t. He doesn’t get it-”

“So make him,” Evan says. “Look y-you know he’s freaking out so. Maybe that m-means he can help?”

Connor thinks about his dad trying to talk to him this morning and his face burns with embarrassment. 

“N-not to, l-like, play the poor me, my-dad-sucks card? But like. If I had a d-dad who gave a shit? Like yours does? I’d tell him.”

Connor stares at the table. “What if he wants to send me away again?” Connor says softly. 

“He d-didn’t after Zoe’s party,” Evan says, his voice maddeningly even. 

Connor can’t argue with that. He nods. “Okay,” he says softly. “I’ll do it. I’ll… I’ll talk to my dad.” He breathes unevenly. “I’m sorry.”

Evan gives Connor a look. One Connor doesn’t know how he’s supposed to read. “I’ll… I mean I’ll help? Y-you know? I’m o-obviously gonna help.” He bites his lip. “I just… y’know. I’m not an expert.”

Something inside Connor relaxes. He nods. Okay. Okay okay okay.

* * *

Connor’s not here, Zoe realizes with irritation. Madison said she could give Zoe a ride home but then Tommy got into a fight during sixth hour and Madison tells Zoe she’s gonna have to find her own ride home. 

Connor’s not at his locker and he’s not in the student parking lot after school and Zoe’s missed all of the buses by then. 

Fuck. 

She’s boned. She needs to find someone to give her a ride or she’s gonna have to call her mom or dad. 

Fuck. 

“You okay?” 

Zoe turns. Sabrina is walking out of the building, her arms wrapped around her textbooks. 

“I guess I need a ride,” Zoe says awkwardly. She’s been kind of avoiding Sabrina. 

Sabrina gives her a smile. “Okay! Come on.”

She says it like it’s just that easy. 

Zoe follows her to her car. It’s a cute bright blue thing. Sabrina unlocks it and apologizes for the stuff on the passenger seat. Zoe shrugs and picks it up, moving the books and stuff into the back. She catches some of the titles and her stomach turns funnily. 

They’re diet books. 

A whole stack of them. 

Sabrina doesn’t even look embarrassed. She just says her mom caught her eating some skittles and signed her up for Weight Watchers. 

Zoe frowns. 

Thinks back to her mom freaking out at dinner about Zoe eating  _ and  _ Connor not eating. 

She makes a snap decision. “You busy right now?”

Sabrina shakes her head. “Nah. I was gonna ditch the Weight Watchers meeting and just hang out at Starbucks for a while. My mom’s being a bitch.”

Zoe smiles. “Come over?”

Sabrina eyes her up. “Sure but I have a condition.”

Zoe feels her heart plummet. 

“You gotta play me something on your guitar. I didn’t know you played! You’re so good!”

Zoe feels her cheeks heat up. “Alright.”

When they get to Zoe’s house, Zoe walks around the back to the pool house. Nobody ever goes back there really, so she hides her guitar there. She’s too embarrassed to play it in front of her family anymore. If she has to hear her dad tell the story of “Girls Can Do Anything, Connor” one more time she’s going to die of embarrassment. 

She pulls the guitar out of its hiding place in the linen closet. Sits on one end of the sofa and tunes it by ear, twisting and tweaking until it sounds right. “What do you want to hear?” Zoe asks Sabrina. 

“Anything,” Sabrina says with a big smile. “I just wanna hear you play.” 

Zoe laughs a little self consciously. “I kinda suck,” she admits. She’s out of practice. She strums a couple of times, reacclimating to having her fingers pressed against the strings. 

Then she starts. 

She plays “Yesterday” by the Beatles because it’s mellow and doesn’t reveal her freak show electric tendencies. She likes this song. Her dad told her once that it was about how Paul McCartney’s mom died when he was young. 

She sort of loses herself in the song a little. It’s easy to play in front of Sabrina somehow. It doesn’t feel like she’s being watched. Being judged. 

When she finishes, Sabrina claps. Like she seriously claps. 

“Stop,” Zoe mumbled, embarrassed. 

“No. You are, like, so talented.”

She’s not. And she doesn’t want to be known for this. “Please don’t go like. Spreading this? I was kind of a band dork in middle school.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” Sabrina says. 

Something in the atmosphere shifts. Zoe looks around stupidly, half expecting a thunderstorm to have rolled in. 

The only thing that changed is the way Sabrina is looking at Zoe. Like she’s something nice to look at. 

Zoe can’t help it. She immediately thinks about how Sabrina basically got naked in front of her. She’s wearing a low cut shirt today and Zoe can see her slight tan line and…

“When you kissed me,” Sabrina says, sounding kind of breathless, “At your party? I’d never kissed a girl before.”

“Me either,” Zoe mumbles. 

“Is it like… super gross and lesbian that I kind of want to do it again?” Sabrina says. “Not. Not kiss a girl just… I want to kiss you. Again.”

Zoe’s whole body feels like it’s received an electric shock. “I… this is weird.”

“I know,” Sabrina says, and she’s frowning a little. “It definitely is but… I want to anyway.”

Zoe goes to look away but accidentally finds herself moving closer instead. She goes to tell Sabrina to fuck off and stop being such a dyke about this, but instead she says, “So do it. Kiss me.”

And Sabrina does. She cups the side of Zoe’s face and kisses her gently. Her lips are soft and coated in a sticky sugar sweet lip gloss and Zoe instinctively opens her mouth. Lets her tongue dart out to get another taste. 

And then they’re properly kissing. Full on making out and Zoe’s body is flooding with warmth, with crackles of electricity and she finds herself pushed back against the sofa and Sabrina’s on top of her. Touching her neck and her shoulders and Zoe’s pushing Sabrina’s shirt up her ribs, her hands seeking out the swell of her chest. 

It happens so fast. Suddenly they’re both sitting and pulling off their tops and Zoe’s not wearing a bra. She’s not wearing a bra and Sabrina’s eyes are huge. “Can I?” She says softly. 

Zoe nods.

Sabrina’s fingers brush across the exposed skin. 

Zoe likes it. She likes it so much. 

She reaches around and undoes the hooks of Sabrina’s bra. Sabrina lets it fall away without comment. 

That heat and electric feeling doubles inside of Zoe. Sabrina is… so pretty. “Please,” she hears herself say and then Sabrina’s taking her hand and guiding it to her chest and they are kissing again. Kissing and touching everywhere their clothes don’t cover. 

Warm skin and wet mouths and shaky hands everywhere and Zoe’s got hair in her mouth but she doesn’t care who it belongs to so she just pulls it out of her mouth and keeps kissing Sabrina. Like she’s drowning and this kiss is life saving. Sabrina’s skin is so soft everywhere. She has the softest tummy and Zoe kisses it because she thinks it’s wonderful. 

“We should…” Zoe gasps after a while. “We should stop.” It’s too much, it's all too new and too strange 

and too fast. 

“Okay,” Sabrina says, pulling away. 

Zoe is mesmerized by the way their bodies match and mirror each other. 

And then Zoe’s pulling her back. Kissing her more kissing her harder. “I don’t want to,” she says, kissing Sabrina’s neck and watching goosebumps rise all over her. “I don’t actually want to stop.”

“Okay,” Sabrina says again. 

Her hands grip Zoe’s hip hard. “Yes,” Zoe breathes not even knowing what she’s saying, but she does she does and Sabrina’s hand pushes up her skirt. Presses against her  _ there _ . 

Fuck it’s too much it’s too much they need to stop but Zoe wants her to keep going. She wants to keep going and she tells Sabrina that so Sabrina does. 

This happened so fast, Zoe thinks distantly as her eyes slide closed, this is so fast too fast but she wants it so much. 

Her own hand searches for the buttons of Sabrina’s jeans and they part and Sabrina pulls them off and then Zoe has a moment of pause when her fingertips brush the frilly lace of another girl’s underwear but it’s only a moment and then she’s losing herself again, she’s losing herself like she does when she plays and sings, she’s lost she’s so lost and Sabrina is so pretty like this.

* * *

Late on Friday night, Larry is surprised by a knock at his bedroom door. He and Cynthia have been primarily communicating by giving each other long, silent looks, so he gives her another one before he goes to the door. She goes back to the book she’s reading, almost as if Larry never looked at her at all. 

Larry goes to the door, trying to shake his irritation off. He pulls open the door to reveal Connor standing in his pajamas. 

The pants are hanging off of his hips, sagging from the drawstring at the waist. His shirt is too big. Far too big. 

His kid looks like a skeleton standing in the hall. 

And his face looks. Scared. 

Larry’s immediately reminded of Connor as a little boy. He had a lot of nightmares. Used to come crawl into bed with them until he was nine or so, snuggle up between Larry and Cynthia and whisper to them about the monsters haunting his dreams. Wolves and dragons and lions, tigers, and bears. 

Larry suddenly misses those monsters. They were easier to fight. 

“Connor,” Larry says, fighting the urge to scoop his kid up in his arms because he’s sure Connor would pull away. 

“Hi,” he says quietly. Larry takes in the way he’s shuffling from foot to foot, the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw clenches. He wonders how long Connor paced in front of the door before knocking. “Can I talk to you guys for a minute?”

“Come in,” Larry says and he can’t help it, he grasps his son’s shoulder and guides him inside. 

Connor sits with his legs folded up like a pretzel at the foot of their bed. 

Cynthia, mercifully, puts her book down. 

“What’s going on?” She asks him, and Larry’s heart leaps because despite the slight slur in her words, she actually sounds concerned. Larry sits beside her at the head of the bed. 

Connor shifts his jaw a few times. Picks at a thread on his too-big pajama pants. 

“So I…” he says, his voice a little shaky and uneven. “I don’t think I’ve… been doing so great?” He says, not looking at them. 

Larry’s flooded with emotion. Fear because he has been expecting this. Relief that Connor’s reaching out. Connor’s come to them. 

He’s actually come to them. 

“I… things are pretty hard at school,” Connor says, still looking at the print of his pajamas. They have little skateboards on them. “People are… they’re all making fun of me? A lot? About… about what happened freshman year.”

Larry’s suspected as much but. Fuck. 

“What do you mean?” Cynthia asks, her eyebrows knitting together. 

Connor’s cheeks turn pink and blotchy. “You know,” he says like he’s imploring them not to make him say it. “When I tried to…”

Larry nods. Cynthia looks angry. 

He’s terrified she’s going to blame Connor for it. 

But she says, “Is it Jenny Kleinman’s rotten little shithead?” 

Connor nods. “Yeah he’s one of them. They’re all… they’re all still calling me Quitter?”

Fuck, Larry could kill all of these kids. “Connor I’m so sorry.”

Connor shakes his head like it’s nothing. “That’s not… that’s not the only thing?” He squares his shoulders. Like he’s preparing to have to fight someone. Like he’s getting ready to take a blow. “I haven’t… I haven’t really been able to. To eat?”

So it’s true. What Heidi said. What Evan told her. 

“Okay,” Larry says. 

“I think I… I don’t really like my uh. My psychiatrist? I don’t think he like… gets it?” Connor says. He’s picking at the bandaid on his elbow. “And I just. Sometimes I think about… Look, I know I’ve messed a lot of stuff up for you guys… but I don’t. I don’t want to? I don’t want to keep fucking up.”

“Language,” Cynthia says blandly. 

Connor seems to shrink before Larry’s eyes. 

“What do you need?” Larry asks his son. “How can we help?”

Connor shrugs. 

Larry looks over at his wife. Cynthia is frowning deeply. Despite all of her attempts to maintain her youthful appearance, Larry thinks it makes Cynthia look old. So old and worn down. 

“Well, your psychiatrist comes highly recommended,” she says stiffly. 

Connor shrinks more. “I know.” He bows his head further. 

“Maybe he’s not a great fit,” Larry suggests gently. “Maybe we need to work on finding you somebody else?”

Connor looks up, surprised. “Really?” 

“If it’s not helping,” Larry says. “Then of course.” 

Connor looks at Larry, his eyes glassy. Then he turns his eyes to his mother. Cynthia is examining her manicure with obvious disinterest. “Mom?” Connor says, his voice brittle. 

“Sounds like your father has it handled,” she says shortly. Cynthia shoots Larry a brief look. “Funny that. Really. Back when all of this started, I had to beg him for therapy, for rehab.”

Larry’s insides burn with shame.

It’s true. He can’t deny it’s true. 

Connor’s shoulders sag more. “Right,” he says, his voice quiet and sad. “Well…” 

He’s still looking at his mother. 

They used to be close. Cynthia used to be Connor’s biggest champion. She was the one who stood by him, defended him when the drug use got worse and worse, when Connor acted out or behaved violently. He shoved a printer off of his second grade teacher’s desk when he was eight. Cynthia dismissed it as typical boyish misbehaving. Grounded him of course but never seemed interested in interrogating  _ why  _ it happened. 

All Larry had wanted to know was why. Why his son would do something so idiotic. He had wanted to know what was wrong with his kid so that they could fix it. 

“Okay,” Connor says then. “I’m just. I guess I’ll go to bed…” he gets to his feet. 

There’s something pleading in his eyes, in the way he’s looking at his mother. 

Larry wants to shout at her to pay attention. To not make the mistake he had made of ignoring things until they reached a crisis point. 

She picks her book back up. 

Connor stops in his tracks, and Larry realizes too late that Connor has been circling the bed to bid her a good night. 

The Murphys have always been a kiss goodnight family.

Larry suddenly can’t remember when that stopped. 

And he hates it. 

Hates the way Connor freezes and looks so heartbroken as he mutters, “Okay. Night.” 

Turns to go. 

Larry gets up. Follows Connor out into the hall. 

“Connor?” 

He looks at his dad. He looks so fucking young, Larry could swear he had a six foot tall seven year old rather than a seventeen year old. 

“Thank you. For coming to talk to us. I know that wasn’t easy.”

Connor nods. 

And Larry pulls his son into a hug. Tight and sudden, but Connor almost immediately relaxes against him. Larry can feel some of the tension leaving his son’s sharp shoulder blades. 

“You’re going to be okay,” Larry promises. He doesn’t know why. He has no evidence to back that claim up. But still he promises. Hugs his kid. Presses a kiss to the top of Connor’s head. “You’re going to be alright.”

“Okay,” Connor says. His voice is trembly and thin and so fucking sad. 

He lets go of Larry. Larry lets him. 

“Sleep well, bud,” Larry says. "I love you."

“Yeah. Uh. You too,” Connor says, not quite smiling. “Night.”

* * *

Zoe spends Friday night totally freaking out about what happened with Sabrina. Now that she’s ungrounded, Zoe’s allowed to go out again but part of her nearly ditches the thing Madison is doing at her beach house on Saturday because Maddie texted Zoe to say she had invited Sabrina “since you two are besties these days.”

Zoe has texted back to insist that Madison was her best friend obviously but she’s convinced that Madison knows. That maybe Sabrina told her? 

She wants to avoid the party, but Zoe knows she can’t unless she wants Madison to start shit with her next. 

She really doesn’t want that. 

Zoe hardly sleeps on Friday. She hears quiet voices from the hall a couple of times. 

She creeps across the hall to use the bathroom at one point and then finds herself trapped because she hears her dad and Connor talking in the hall. Zoe opens the door a crack to see what’s going on. 

She’s surprised to see her dad giving Connor a hug. 

Connor’s back is to her. He… looks kind of like shit. His hair in particular looks like shit. It’s all knotted and it isn’t even remotely shiny. She doesn’t know why he’s started wearing it this long if he’s not even going to take care of it. 

He looks pretty fucking skinny, now that Zoe thinks about it. 

Zoe thinks about that documentary they showed in health class last year where a girl, like, died because she was so anorexic she literally starved to death. 

Zoe remembered watching it and feeling like she could borrow some of the shit that chick was doing so she could fit into a size 0 pant. 

But that’s not Connor obviously. He doesn’t give a shit how he looks (if he did, he would quit painting his nails and embarrassing her). Besides, boys don’t get eating disorders. 

Obviously. 

Connor’s just fucking weird looking. 

She feels kind of bad for telling him how big and stupid his ears were a couple of weeks back. She doesn’t even know why she said it. She had actually been thinking that his piercings were kind of badass. She wanted to know if the industrial bar had hurt. 

And what came out of her mouth was that he had stupid fucking huge Dumbo ears. 

Zoe’s kind of a bitch. 

A bitch who totally like. Fingered another girl. 

What the fuck what the fuck. 

She’s absolutely going to hell. Zoe doesn’t even know if she believes in hell but she’s definitely going there. 

Zoe spends a lot of time on Saturday afternoon worrying that she isn’t a virgin anymore. 

Like. 

She  _ has  _ to still be a virgin? 

She didn’t have sex. She wasn’t with a  _ guy _ . Zoe and Sabrina just messed around a little. 

So whatever a girl felt her up and fingered her. 

Zoe’s definitely still a virgin. 

Like what is she even thinking? What happened was absolutely  _ not  _ sex. 

She’s so preoccupied by this line of thinking that she manages to burn the side of her neck with her curling iron. Fuck. 

Now it looks like she has a hickey. Just what she needs. 

Madison’s party is actually kind of boring and a bit subdued. People are still a little on edge after Heidi called everyone’s parents after Zoe’s party. A few people ask Zoe if her brother’s going to come and fuck things up again and she reiterates that her brother is a total freak. 

Because he just  _ is.  _

Maddie teases Zoe all about her curling iron hickey and Sabrina lingers nearby but doesn’t say anything. They don’t really talk much at the party, but that might be because Zoe goes to get a drink every time Sabrina looks like she might try to talk to Zoe one on one. 

Because Zoe can’t have that. 

Because every time Sabrina gets close, Zoe can feel her hands, can imagine her mouth. 

And she can’t do that. Can’t have that. 

So Zoe gets drunk and keeps her distance. 

At the end of the night, Brian drops Zoe home. Tries to ask her to hang out sometime but she just can’t with that shit right now. She gets out of his Jeep after saying maybe. 

Zoe doesn’t want to go inside. She doesn’t want to crawl into her bed and think about what she and Sabrina did. 

Which was nothing. It meant nothing. 

Zoe spots a figure at the end of Heidi’s driveway. She realizes it’s Evan. In a pair of old sweats and a wife beater. 

He’s smoking a cigarette. 

She doesn’t expect that from him. 

Zoe makes a decision. 

She walks over to him once Brian is out of sight. “Hey,” she says to Evan. 

He looks at her like he’s surprised to see her. Maybe a little annoyed too. 

Zoe doesn’t care for that. 

“I said  _ hey, _ ” Zoe repeats. “I believe… that the proper thing to do is say hi back.”

Evan frowns. “Hi?”

“How come you’re out?” Zoe asks. “Did you go out tonight?”

Evan shakes his head. “Can’t sleep.” He crosses his arms over his chest. His biceps look bigger these days. “Good party?”

Zoe rolls her eyes. “Well my brother didn’t wreck this one.”

Evan doesn’t look impressed. “I’m not talking about th-this with you.”

Zoe rolls her eyes. “Yeah since you don’t talk to me at all anymore.”

Evan’s eyes narrow. “M-maybe if you weren’t being such a-a jerk to Connor I would.”

Zoe rolls her eyes again. “So you're an only child then.”

Evan looks at her like he doesn’t understand. His cigarette is just hanging between his fingers. 

Zoe reaches out and takes it. Puts it to her lips and takes a drag. She tries not to pull a face. Zoe prefers menthols. She hands it back to Evan. “When you have siblings, you’re stuck sharing everything.” She shakes her head. “And when you’re siblings with someone like Connor? Everything becomes about them.”

Evan frowns harder. He says nothing. Just takes a drag on his cigarette. 

“You ever do anything really bad?” Zoe prods suddenly. 

Evan looks caught off guard. “What?”

“Like something colossally stupid that could make things really bad for you?” She says. 

Evan looks pale. “W-w-why? Did you… what have you heard?”

Zoe smiles. “So you have then.”

Evan looks freaked out. “Did Connor…?”

Zoe laughs. Of fucking course. Everything is about Connor. Even her stupidity is about her fucking brother. “So what, do you two tell each other your secrets then?”

Evan looks pissed. He shifts his jaw and tilts it defiantly. “He’s m-my best friend.”

“Best friend?” Zoe echoes. “Are the two of you in, like, second grade? Come on.” She takes the cigarette back from him. Takes a drag. “Don’t worry, dude, whatever  _ realness _ you spilled to my brother, he hasn’t said anything to me about it. And I’m pretty sure you’re the only person he talks to so I’m sure whatever you spilled is safe with him.”

“Oh,” Evan says. He has the sense to look embarrassed. 

Good boy. 

“You could tell me,” Zoe says then. “You show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.”

Evan looks freaked. 

“Or not,” Zoe says. She sighs. “It’s just. I’m supposed to be someone you know?” She shakes her head. “And I did something that. Is very much not who I’m supposed to be.”

“Does that r-really mean it’s bad?”

Zoe laughs but it’s not funny. She thinks about Sabrina’s hand in her underwear. Thinks about how much she  _ liked  _ it. “Yeah,” she says finally. “For me it does.”

Evan gives her a look like he maybe feels sorry for her. 

Zoe hates him a little bit for it. 

“Well… is who you’re s-supposed to be who you want t-to be?” 

Zoe has no fucking clue. She offers him a shrug. 

Evan shakes his head. “I really don’t get you.”

“I don’t get you either,” Zoe replies. “You’re, like, deciding to make things harder on yourself.”

“What’s easy isn’t always r-right,” Evan says. 

Well then. 

Zoe’s not sure what to make of that one. 

“You know, you might be a decent person,” Zoe says then. “But being  _ decent  _ won’t do you any good around here. It’s not gonna like. Earn you brownie points.”

Evan looks uncomfortable, but then again he always does so why does that surprise her. 

“Are you okay?” Evan asks her after a long silence. 

Zoe shrugs. “Since when does it matter if  _ I’m  _ okay?”

Evan looks sad. “It matters to me.”

Zoe shakes her head. “If you say so.” She heads back inside. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "The Sound of Settling" by Death Cab for Cutie. 
> 
> Fic title is from "Camisado" by Panic! at the Disco. 
> 
> Find us on tumblr if you wanna shout things at us... 
> 
> Tess: ch-ch-ch-ch-cherrybomb.tumblr.com
> 
> Rose: vinegar-and-glitter-fic.tumblr.com


	19. A Walking Contradiction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor takes little blueberry steps, Evan has not been working out and folate helps with DNA production.

It’s a barely ten minute drive to school but it’s one of Evan’s favorite parts of the day. He and Connor seem to have gotten into some kind of routine now. Evan will head over to Connor’s in the morning. They’ll swing by Starbucks first to grab coffee. On the way, they’ll split a banana. 

Half a banana is definitely not enough breakfast, but Evan’s starting small. Working his way up, in the hopes of not freaking Connor out too much. 

Connor will turn up the car stereo as they leave Starbucks, plugging his iPod in so they can listen to a playlist he put together that he tells Evan is part of his necessary music education. There are songs Evan recognizes in there, too, songs he knows, and Connor always smiles at him when they come on, like he’d put them there especially for Evan. 

Which Evan likes. A lot. 

They’re getting close to school on a Wednesday a couple of weeks into their routine when Connor turns to him, his expression apologetic. “I forgot to tell you,” he says, a little sheepishly. “I, uh, I have an appointment in the middle of last period, so I won’t be there after school to drop you home. I could swing by when it’s done if you want? I just don’t know how long it’ll be.”

“What’s the appointment for?” Evan asks, interested. 

Connor’s cheeks turn pink. “It’s, uh, a doctor’s appointment,” he mumbles. “My dad wants me to see someone about… the whole food thing or whatever.”

Evan’s first emotion is relief. 

Pure, unadulterated relief. 

“It’s good to have an actual expert’s opinion,” he tells Connor, feeling his chest untighten. “As opposed to me going on about how blueberries are a superfood.”

“Yeah, well,” Connor says, looking back at the road, “I guess we’ll see how it goes.” He clenches his jaw a little. Doesn’t look at Evan. “Honestly, I don’t have high hopes.”

Evan feels his heart sink. “It might be really good,” he manages to say. 

“Yeah,” Connor says, shrugging a little. “It just… I don’t know, I’m probably just crazy or whatever-”

“You’re not crazy.”

Connor snorts. Turns a corner. “I’m not exactly a poster boy for good mental health, Evan.”

Evan sighs. Looks out the window for a moment, then back at his friend. “It, uh… it seems like you’ve been… eating more? In the last little while?”

“You mean since you keep bringing me food?” Connor says, looking at Evan with this almost smile. 

“Well... yeah.”

Connor blinks a few times. “I don’t want to disappoint you,” he mumbles. “That probably sounds super lame-”

“It doesn’t,” Evan interrupts. “It doesn’t, I promise.” When Connor doesn’t reply, he continues. “And-and I know I’m not an expert, that I’m just… some dude who likes to memorize food facts, but… I don’t know, I feel like it’s all been kind of… overwhelming?”

Connor turns his head sharply. Looks at Evan with this strange expression on his face. “Yeah,” he says strangely. “That’s… that’s definitely it.”

Evan shrugs. “So… we start small. Like… like you just ate half a banana? Which seems, like, whatever, no big deal, but you got potassium, calcium, manganese, magnesium, iron, folate, niacin, riboflavin, and also vitamin B6, which is, like, a lot of good stuff.”

Connor blinks. “You memorized all the shit in a banana?”

Evan feels his cheeks burn. “Well, yeah, I wanted to have all the facts. In case you were going to tell me that eating half a banana was no big deal.”

Connor lets out a laugh. “You are… such a dork, oh my god.” But he’s smiling, his expression fond. 

“And yesterday you had a smoothie,” Evan says, feeling encouraged. “When you came around after school to help me study?”

“I had like… a quarter of a cup,” Connor says, turning into the parking lot. He’s still smiling though. He looks around for a parking space, then heads for the closest one. “Tell me what was in my smoothie, Mr. Food Science.”

“Okay,” says Evan with a smile of his own. “So. Blueberries. You’ve got iron, phosphorus, calcium, magnesium, manganese, zinc, and vitamin K. All good stuff. Banana, which we already covered. And we had greek yogurt, which is a good source of protein, and also vitamin B-12, amino acids… also iodine? Which helps with your metabolism.” He pauses for a moment to think. “Oh, and we put a bit of honey in the smoothie! And Heidi got, like, really good quality honey, which has all sorts of antioxidants and stuff in it. We only put in, like, a little bit so it wasn’t super bitter or whatever. Obviously too much honey isn’t great for you, either, but it’s better than sugar or corn syrup so… all in all, I think that’s pretty good. Really good.”

Connor’s parked by now and he’s looking at Evan, his expression strange. “You’re really into this whole nutrition thing now, huh.”

“It’s interesting,” Evan says truthfully. “Like, I’ve never had the chance to really think about all of this before? So I’m, like, legitimately interested in all of this.” He stops. Tries to figure out how to say what he wants to say without freaking Connor out. “Plus, I kinda…” He sighs. Starts again. “Okay, so my brain kind of says some bullshit to me sometimes?” 

Connor goes a little pale. “What do you mean?” he asks carefully. 

Evan shrugs. Tries to keep his voice casual. “There’s like, this voice in my head that’s… kind of an asshole, all of the time, and I try to ignore it as much as I can but it’s. Literally. Always fucking there? So I…” He takes in a breath. Lets it out in what he hopes is an even way. “I like facts. Things I can, like, rely on? Because… you can’t argue with facts, right? They’re facts. They’re true. And…” He shrugs again. Wipes his hands on his jeans. “I don’t know, I guess that maybe I thought that it might help you.”

Connor blinks. For a moment, Evan thinks he’s going to cry. “Yeah?”

Evan nods. Shrugs again. “It’s probably dumb,” he says, feeling his cheeks burn. “But, like… I don’t know, it’s probably not useful and I’m making it weird, but I figured that… maybe your brain is kind of a dick to you about food? So if you knew some facts about food then… it might help. I don’t know. Brains are weird and you and I have different ones and we have different problems and-”

“I’ve never thought about it that way,” Connor interrupts, his voice soft. “I can see how it might work for you. I guess I can try?”

Evan can’t help it. His face bursts into a big smile. “That’s all you can do, right? Try. Little steps.”

“Little steps.”

“Blueberry sized steps.”

“Little blueberry steps.”

“That’s so weird, oh my god.” 

Connor laughs. “You’re the one who keeps bringing up blueberries.”

Evan grins at him. Feels something inside him relax a little. 

Maybe Connor’s going to be okay. 

Little steps. 

Little blueberry steps.

It’s lonely without Connor in English class, but Evan keeps reminding himself that Connor had half a salad for lunch, along with a handful of almonds, and that’s a victory. When school is over, he makes his way across campus to the library, only to hear someone calling out his name. 

He turns to see Zoe, Madison and Sabrina, sitting at a table. He’s not sure what they’re doing just hanging out at school since the day is finished, but he’s not about to ask. 

“Hey Evan,” says Madison in this overly bright voice that Evan kind of hates. “Looking good.”

Zoe shoves her with her elbow. “How was English?” she asks.

Evan’s a little… taken aback. That she remembers when he has English. 

Maybe she just remembers that he and Connor are in the same English class. God knows they study together enough. 

Zoe and Evan haven’t exactly spoken since that night Evan ran into her at the bottom of the driveway. It had been a weird conversation. She’d been a little drunk and a lot sad and Evan had kind of felt all the irritation he’d had against her kind of melt away, because clearly there’s something going on with her. 

He doesn’t know what, but it’s obviously something. 

It’s not an excuse, exactly, but it’s an explanation. 

_“You ever do anything really bad? Like something colossally stupid that could make things really bad for you?”_

He keeps thinking about that. 

Keeps wondering what the hell it is she might have done. 

Evan bets she didn’t steal a car. 

Bets she’s not lying to everyone about who she really is. 

Then again, he thinks as he looks at her, he can’t really be sure about that last one. There is definitely more going on with Zoe Murphy than meets the eye. 

Zoe and Evan haven’t really spoken much in study hall, both of them seemingly busy with assignments, but something’s shifted since that late night talk. They might not exactly be close, but Evan’s way less pissed off with her than he was a few weeks back. 

Today, Zoe’s wearing this purple sweater that’s kind of low cut that he’s having a very hard time not being super distracted by. Her hair is curled and she’s in these low rise jeans and she looks… really pretty. 

The blue in her hair is almost entirely gone by now, Evan notices. 

His stomach flips a little. 

“It was, uh, it-it was good?” he says, a little tentatively. 

Madison hops off the table and walks toward him. Sabrina and Zoe follow suit, Zoe looking at Madison with this annoyed expression. 

“You been working out?” Madison asks, reaching out and touching his arm. “Definitely looks like it.”

Evan tries very hard not to just yank his arm away, because that would be rude. Girls are so weird. “N-n-no,” he says. “I, uh, don’t really-”

“Evan’s really into nutrition these days,” Zoe interrupts, looking at him pointedly. “Right? You were over the other day studying with Connor, saying all this stuff about the benefits of vitamin B12 or whatever.”

“What _are_ the benefits of vitamin B12?” Sabrina asks, sounding genuinely interested. 

“It helps produce red blood cells,” Evan says immediately, strangely grateful to Sabrina for asking a question he actually knows how to answer. “Also, it’s good for bone health, and preventing macular degeneration, and also helps with your memory and helps you produce serotonin and…” The girls all seem completely disinterested, so he tries to think of something they might actually find interesting. “Oh, and it’s good for your skin. And, uh, your h-hair and nails.”

“Cool,” says Sabrina. She holds out her hands. “Ugh, my nails are terrible. Guess I’d better get some vitamin B12.”

Madison looks at Zoe, then back at Evan. “So you’re still hanging out with Quitter, then?”

Zoe tenses visibly. “I told you not to call him that,” she mutters. 

Evan goes a little cold. 

He still doesn’t know exactly why everyone calls Connor Quitter. Still hasn’t got a straight answer out of Connor on that one. But the way Zoe’s reacting makes him think he won’t like what he hears. 

Sabrina frowns. “Seriously, Maddie-”

Madison fixes Evan with a look. “You really need to be careful about who you hang out with,” she says, her chin held high. “Everyone knows Zoe’s brother is a homo. You keep hanging out with him and the gay might rub off on you.” She looks him up and down in this obvious, kind of creepy way. “And that would just be such a waste.”

“Maddie, knock it off,” says Sabrina unhappily. 

Zoe’s fists are clenched, knuckles white. She’s holding herself with so much tension it practically vibrates off her. 

For a moment, Evan’s genuinely convinced Zoe’s going to punch Maddie in the face. 

“Right,” says Evan, looking straight at Maddie. “So if I hang out with a gay guy, it’ll turn me gay? That’s what you’re saying?” Before Maddie can respond, he keeps talking, louder than he means to. “So by that logic, if I hang out in a Starbucks, I’ll turn into a Frappuccino.”

Maddie’s eyes go huge. 

He can hear someone a little ways away barely stifling a laugh. 

“You’re so fucking stupid, Maddie,” says Zoe, in this tone that seems like it’s aiming for joking but doesn’t quite make it there. She’s a whole lot less tense, and she looks at Evan with this expression he can’t quite figure out. “Come on, I’m sure Evan’s got better things to do.”

“I have to study,” Evan says quietly, looking at Zoe, then back to Maddie and Sabrina. “H-have a good rest of the day, ladies.”

Zoe nods. Smiles. It’s different to the smiles she wears all the time around here, the smiles she uses to show off. 

It’s… subtle. And it feels… real. 

In this moment, Zoe feels real.

He’s been so mad at her, so furious on Connor’s behalf, but maybe she hasn’t given up on her brother entirely just yet. 

And maybe Evan shouldn’t give up entirely on her. 

* * *

Madison’s voice is getting more and more annoying by the second. It’s so high-pitched and bitchy and it’s making Sabrina want to, like, shove a gym sock in her mouth to shut her up. She won’t stop demanding to know what the time is. How long it’s going to be until Tommy’s out of detention. 

Sabrina doesn’t even know _why_ she’s waiting for Tommy to get out of detention with Madison and Zoe. She has her own car, she could just leave. 

She’s offered both Maddie and Zoe a ride, but Maddie doesn’t want to ditch her brother and Zoe’s making excuses not to be alone with Sabrina these days, which is…

Fine. 

It’s fine. 

Sabrina’s not, like, totally freaking out about _that_ or whatever. 

It’s not like that Friday afternoon in the Murphys’ poolhouse is playing on repeat in her brain _all the fucking time_ or whatever. 

It’s fine. 

Sabrina should leave. 

Should just, like, leave and let the two of them keep each other company. It’s not like they need her there, anyway. Sabrina’s totally the third wheel in the Zoe/Madison/Sabrina trio, she’s always known that. She’s a junior, whereas Madison and Zoe are sophomores, and they’re not in the same study hall as each other so Sabrina has, like, literally no classes with them. 

It’s probably weird that the people she hangs out with the most are sophomores, but, like, it’s a small school and the junior class is sort of… weird. Maddie likes to say that nobody who really counts is a junior, which is an objectively awful thing to say, and while Sabrina doesn’t agree, she kind of sees what she’s trying to say. There are some popular guys in the junior class, but when it comes to the girls, there aren’t really any who stand out as A-listers. 

Sabrina hates the idea of categorizing people as A-listers or B-listers or C-listers or anything like that. It seems stupid and small and incredibly hurtful.

But Sabrina’s mom is obsessed with it. Obsessed with knowing where people fit. Knowing their status. She’s the one who told Sabrina at last year’s charity fashion show that she should make sure to say hi to Zoe Murphy, even though she was only just going into freshman year and Sabrina was a sophomore. 

Her mom insisted Sabrina participate in the event. “We both know you’re too fat to model,” she’d said. “But they could always use wardrobe assistants. It’s for a good cause and it’s a good opportunity for you to meet the right sort of people.”

She and Zoe had hit it off almost immediately. Zoe had darker hair then, more of a caramel color, and she’d been young and nervous and more than a little overwhelmed at the whole thing, or so she’d said to Sabrina. “There are going to be all these people looking at me. What if I trip and fall?”

“Start breakdancing immediately,” Sabrina had replied. “Tell them it’s part of the act.”

Zoe had blinked, then burst into giggles, and her eyes had lit up and Sabrina had spotted a scattering of freckles across her nose that matched the flecks of gold in her hazel eyes almost exactly, this strange repeating pattern Sabrina still notices, every time she looks at her. 

Sabrina looks at Zoe far, far more than is healthy. Far more than she should. 

Her mom had been so happy that they’d become friends. So, so happy. “Cynthia Nichols is still a big deal around here,” Sabrina’s mom keeps reminding her, “even if she’s a barely functioning alcoholic married to an East Coast nobody. You being friends with her daughter will get you places. Open doors for you. Make sure you don’t do anything to screw that up.”

If her mom knew that Sabrina had, in fact, fingered Cynthia Nichols’s daughter in a pool house, she’d have a heart attack on the spot. 

If she didn’t die immediately, the next step would be… gay camp, Sabrina supposes. 

Does that exist? Gay camp?

Like fat camp, but for not doing gay shit like fingering Zoe Murphy in a pool house?

Sabrina had actually kind of enjoyed fat camp. There were lots of sports and outdoor activities, which was awesome because she still really misses field hockey, which she played a ton of in middle school. Her mom had made her quit when she got to high school because it wasn’t ladylike. 

“People will get the wrong idea about you,” her mom had told her at the time. “They might think you’re… well, you know what they say about girls who are really into sports.”

She’d been pretty devastated at the time. Really fucking sad, actually. 

Her mom had been so insistent that she quit field hockey, like hockey was this huge embarrassment, but when Sabrina put on weight because she wasn’t playing sports anymore, that was also embarrassing. 

Therefore, fat camp this summer. 

It’s a funny path, if you think about it. 

Was the field hockey responsible for fingering Zoe Murphy in a pool house?

Or was the field hockey responsible for the fact that it felt fucking _incredible_ when Zoe touched her back?

Zoe’s sitting at the table next to Maddie, across from Sabrina, and she looks so pretty in this cute purple top that shows off her tits and Sabrina remembers how soft Zoe’s skin felt under her fingers. 

The skin she can see _and_ the skin she can’t. 

Fuck. 

“Ugh, I can’t wait until I get a car,” says Maddie, pouting dramatically. Then looks at Zoe and her expression shifts.“My dad promised me a car for my sweet sixteen. Surprised your dad still hasn’t got you one. Still pissed about your lame party?”

“The same lame party where you gave Jared Kleinman a handjob?” Sabrina says, her tone deliberately light. 

Madison’s gone bright pink but she screws her nose up and lets out this indignant sound. “Is that creep spreading rumors about me? Tommy’s gonna kick his ass when I tell him.”

“I _literally_ walked in on you,” Zoe says, glancing at Sabrina for only the shortest of seconds, then back to Maddie. “Blocked that trauma out of your memory, huh?”

“Like _you_ remember anything,” Maddie shoots back. “You were so fucking wasted. And-”

Sabrina is not in the mood to hear Madison bitch about how she got grounded after Zoe’s party. Again. It was weeks ago, everyone needs to get over it. 

“So we definitely agree that Evan Hansen’s been working out, right?” Sabrina says loudly. “Like, what the hell happened? When did he get so buff?”

Maddie’s expression changes instantly. “Oh my god, I _know_.” She glances at Zoe. “Shame he has no fucking clue who to hang out with. How does it feel to be ditched for your loser brother, Murph?”

Zoe’s shoulders tense. Sabrina feels this sharp, stabbing sensation, somewhere in her ribs. 

“Do you think he’d be my escort for cotillion in December?” Sabrina asks, hoping a change of subject might stop Maddie from being a fucking bitch and therefore prevent Sabrina from homicide. “My mom’s on my case about finding a suitable escort or whatever.” 

Zoe just stares at her, this slightly stunned expression on her face.

Sabrina feels like maybe, she’s said the wrong thing. 

“Way to rub it in, Sabrina,” says Maddie snottily. “You know we can’t debut until next season.”

Zoe’s expression changes. Shifts into something. 

Sabrina isn’t sure what until Zoe speaks. 

“You can’t debut until you’re sixteen,” she says slowly. “Those are the rules.” 

Maddie freezes. Looks at Zoe. “No, you can’t debut until you’re a junior, or you’re just about to be a junior. That’s, like, the whole thing-”

“I’m pretty sure you just have to be sixteen,” Zoe interrupts, and her eyes shine a little, like she’s gaining traction. “I’ll ask my mom. She was a debutante. She organized all of the cotillions until last year.”

“Zoe, what the hell?” Madison says, laughing a little unconvincingly. “I’m not sixteen until March, I can’t debut in December.”

“But I can,” says Zoe determinedly.

Maddie looks like she might genuinely have a brain aneurysm. “But we’re supposed to debut together!” she insists. “In the one in June! That’s the one that everyone goes to.”

“Actually,” says Sabrina, because she can’t help herself, “there are way more people at the winter cotillion. My mom says it’s because it’s way more comfortable getting all dressed up when it’s not as hot.” 

Zoe grins at Sabrina. “What do you think?” she says excitedly. “Mind if I crash your cotillion?”

“It’ll be awesome,” says Sabrina, feeling her heart race a little. It would be so damn nice if Zoe was at cotillion with her. Might make the whole thing suck a lot less. 

Fuck, she’s been dreading cotillion since summer. Cotillion was the whole reason her mom sent her away to fat camp and now that she’s back, she knows she’s putting on weight, she knows she’s not going to fit into the dress her mom picked out. It’s this big fluffy meringue thing that Sabrina kind of hates but she’ll wear the dress and the shoes and get her hair done and try to ignore her mom bitching about her too curly hair, how her nose is too severe, how she needs to make sure she doesn’t get _too_ tan in the summer because she’s a quarter Indian and _of course that’s fine_ but if you’re _too_ exotic-looking you’ll never get a husband, Sabrina and god, she just wants to, like, smash a glass on her mom’s head sometimes, she’s so completely vapid and ridiculous. 

“Guess you’ve got to find a date, Murph,” Maddie says after a moment. Sabrina can tell she’s still fuming. “Brian Harris any good at a waltz?”

Zoe rolls her eyes. “I’ve known him since we were like, six. I’ve been to _so_ many of these fancy-ass events with him, Brian learned when he was a kid just like the rest of us.” She’s got this calculating look on her face and Sabrina can’t quite figure it out. “I wonder if Evan can waltz.”

“I know I can’t,” says Sabrina. “I’m taking lessons, but I’m useless.”

“You’ll need a strong leader if you’re still a beginner,” Zoe says firmly. She looks at Sabrina. “Okay, here’s what we’ll do. I’ll take Evan, and you take Brian.”

That feels a bit like being stabbed in the stomach, too. 

The knowledge that Zoe’s definitely kind of into Evan. 

Which is stupid, because it’s not like Zoe’s hers or anything, just because they fooled around, just because Zoe took off her underwear and…

She’s got to stop thinking about this at school. 

She just has to. 

Sabrina forces a smile. “Sounds great,” she says, and tries to mean it.

* * *

Connor’s appointment isn’t as bad as he’s afraid it might be. This new doctor… well she’s nice. It’s just an intake so they kinda go through all of Connor’s shit. He doesn’t like it but he tries really hard to be honest about things. 

How he can’t really make himself eat but he’s been trying. 

How sometimes he hurts himself on purpose. 

How he spent most of ninth grade high because he was tired of feeling like shit. 

How he feels like a hurricane of garbage most of the time. How he’s constantly afraid of being left. 

She nods and makes notes and asks him questions. Connor feels pretty okay about it when the wrap up for the day. They set another appointment, and Connor asks if they could try to find a different time because this one was during his English class and that one is his favorite. This new doctor says some stuff about how Connor should track how he feels whenever the thoughts of hurting himself or starving himself come up. 

“I’m going to give you a little bit of homework,” she says as they’re ending. “Sometime this week, I want you to try to make one choice that you would normally avoid. Maybe you get fries instead of fruit with your lunch or order something different when you get coffee. And I want you to see how it feels. You can journal about it or whatever feels most natural. But try to do one small thing different in the next week and pay attention to how it makes you feel. Okay?”

He agrees. 

When it’s finished, Connor feels like he should like. Lie down or something. He’s so exhausted. 

Honesty is hard fucking work. 

Connor’s eye has started to twitch again, he notices as he steps out into the waiting area. 

He’s surprised to see that his dad is sitting there. Reading an old copy of _Time._

His dad looks up at him when Connor walks out of the room. “Hi,” he says, setting the magazine down. “How was it?”

“You didn’t have to come,” Connor says awkwardly. “You have, like, work and whatever.”

“Not whatever,” His dad replies. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Connor nods. Swallows hard. “I’m okay, I guess.”

Larry nods back. Stands up. “Have you eaten?”

Half a banana this morning. A handful of almonds. Half a salad at lunch with Evan. 

Connor nods. “Had lunch?”

“Want to stop on our way home?” His dad asks as they start walking out of the building. “Mom was thinking of making some kale… casserole or something?”

“Ugh,” Connor says with a frown. “I guess we could?” He pulls his hoodie sleeves down over his hands. “I’m not actually like. All that hungry?”

His dad nods. Seems to deflate a little. 

Like he expected one session to fix Connor. 

“We can stop,” Connor hears himself say. “I can. I’ll try?”

His dad nods. Smiles a little. “Okay.”

They go to that little diner just outside of town. His dad gets some kind of chicken thing and Connor orders soup because he thinks he can probably stomach some soup. It’s basically just… sort of salty water, really. He can manage soup. 

His dad doesn’t complain or argue with him when Connor only manages to eat some of it. Connor tries his best to actually eat the vegetables floating around in the broth instead of avoiding them like he usually would. 

He texts Evan as they’re leaving, asking what sorts of stuff are in carrots and celery. 

Evan replies almost immediately. 

**Vitamin C, vitamin K, B6, potassium, beta-carotene, magnesium, calcium, and folate. Did you know folate helps with DNA production?**

Connor feels immediately better. 

It’s not until later in the week that Connor even remembers the concert tickets. His dad is the one to bring them up. He’s watching some History Channel show about World War II (how is it that all white dads seem to have a thing for WWII?), and Connor’s passing through to the kitchen because he weirdly feels hungry and he’s trying to take his new doctor’s advice about breaking habits, and Larry hits mute and asks Connor if he’s going to take Evan to the concert in a few weeks. 

Connor hasn’t even thought about it, really. 

The concert has gotten pushed back so far in his mind… there’s been a lot of other things going on. But Connor tells his dad that he’s planning to ask Evan and then the next morning on their ride to school, Connor asks Evan if he’d want to go to see Panic! with him a few weeks after Thanksgiving. 

Evan blinks. “I’ve never been to a concert before,” he admits, his cheeks pink. 

Connor nods, feeling embarrassed. “Don’t worry about it, you don’t have to say yes obviously, it’s not a big deal I just got two tickets for my birthday but I can just go myself or find someone else…”

The lie hangs in the air for a second. 

“Okay well. There isn’t anyone else but.” Connor’s face is so hot. “If you don’t wanna go-”

“I didn’t say that,” Evan says. Like he means it. “I just. I don’t want to embarrass you?”

“You won’t,” Connor says. “Besides if you somehow managed that… we probably won’t know anybody else. And it’ll be crowded and whatever.”

Evan seems to be considering. “When is it?”

"December 6th.”

“You got the tickets for your birthday?” Evan asks tentatively. “And y-you want to take me?”

Connor thought that was obvious. “Yeah dude? Like. You’re my best friend and. It’ll be fun?”

“Okay,” Evan says, like it’s final. 

“Don’t you have to ask Heidi?” Connor asks as he parks the car in the school parking lot. 

“Oh,” Evan says. “Yeah I guess I better.” He shakes his head. “That’s kinda weird. F-for me? Asking?”

Connor nods. “Makes sense.” He bites his lip. “I can be there? When you ask? If you want. If you’re afraid she’ll say no…?”

“I’m not,” Evan says hurriedly. “Just. I’ve never asked something like this w-with Heidi?” He shrugs. “I’m sure she’ll say yes as long as I don’t like. C-commit arson.”

Connor smiles. “Okay.”

* * *

It’s a weird as fuck situation. 

The whole idea of asking a guardian for permission for something is… so fucking weird. 

Evan hasn’t done it in years. He can’t remember the last time he actually bothered to ask his dad for something. Probably when he was eleven or twelve, back when he was young and stupid and thought that because they’d found his dad, it was all going to be okay. 

His dad just… didn’t care what he did. If Evan asked him for permission for something, he’d either laugh and tell Evan he didn’t care what he did, or he’d hit Evan for asking a stupid fucking question. 

Really depended how drunk the guy was. 

So it’s a weird as fuck situation, asking Heidi if she’s okay with him going to this concert with Connor. 

It’s even weirder that she’s got a million questions. 

Where it is, how far they’re going to have to drive to get there, when the show is, how late it’s going to be. 

Evan is completely unprepared for all the questions. He ends up texting Connor, who’s at the front door maybe five minutes later, armed with all the answers Heidi needs. 

“It’s a Wednesday night?” Heidi asks, frowning a little. 

“It’s only a half an hour drive,” Connor says immediately. “So it won’t be, like, unreasonably late.” Heidi looks like she’s going to say something, but Connor jumps in before she can. “It won’t be any later than any of the society events around here, and plenty of those are on school nights.”

Evan has no idea about any of this. No idea that there are society events. 

No idea what a society event even _is._

Heidi seems to, though, and she looks like she’s thinking. 

Then Connor does what Evan can tell is him pulling out the big guns. 

“The tickets are a birthday present. From my dad.”

Heidi blinks. Stares at him for a moment. There’s something soft in her eyes. 

“They are?”

Connor nods. “Yeah,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “He, uh… I guess he remembered that I like the band and found out they were touring? It’s… it’s a really cool present.” His voice is a little shaky and he looks really, really young all of a sudden. 

“It is,” Heidi says, and she’s got this soft smile on her face. She looks from Connor to Evan. “Promise you won’t go finding trouble at this concert?”

“I promise,” says Evan, and he means it. He has no intention of going to find trouble. 

This is Connor’s birthday present, and Evan still can’t believe Connor wants to share it with him. 

Heidi looks from Evan to Connor, then back again. Her smile gets a little bigger. “You can go,” she says. “Just make sure you make good choices. And drive safely.” She fixes him with a look. “Also that you’re not too dead on your feet the next day at school, okay?”

“Okay,” says Evan with a nod. 

Heidi turns to Connor. “That goes for you, too,” she says firmly. 

“Absolutely,” Connor replies immediately.

Heidi smiles at both of them, this big wide smile that Evan thinks is just so wonderful and kind. 

He has no idea what the hell he did to deserve ending up with her looking out for him. 

Evan walks Connor to the bottom of the driveway. Once they’re out of earshot of Heidi, Connor turns to Evan. “She asked a _lot_ of questions.”

Evan can’t help it, he actually smiles. A big, no holds barred smile. Connor’s eyes widen a little and Evan knows he should be embarrassed but can’t quite bring himself to care. 

“She did,” Evan says warmly. 

Something in Connor’s expression shifts. Gets all soft. 

“You like that she asked questions,” he says, his voice quiet. 

“Well, yeah,” says Evan, feeling his cheeks turn red. “It’s maybe, like, a lot or whatever? But I know she just wants me to be safe? And that’s…” He trails off, feeling a lump in his throat. Shakes his head. Tries to focus. “It’s nice,” he finishes quietly. 

Nice is the wrong word completely. Heidi’s so much more than just nice, and Evan’s never going to stop being stupidly grateful to her, and even though he doesn’t get why, he loves that she cares. 

It just makes him feel so... safe. That knowledge that she cares. 

Connor’s still looking at him, and for a moment Evan’s convinced he’s going to say something else. He doesn’t. Just kind of looks at Evan with this soft expression.

Evan likes that soft expression, too. 

* * *

Zoe’s mom is totally on board with Zoe making her debut in winter as opposed to the summer. She actually seems excited about it. She immediately books Zoe an appointment at a salon to get her hair “taken care of.” 

Zoe’s kind of sad to see the blue streaks go, but the appointment leaves her with a new set of long layers and streaks of icy blond which Zoe likes a lot. 

She can add the blue back after cotillion, Zoe figures. 

Her mom starts talking dresses and shoes and she’s thrown herself entirely into the planning committee with the other Newport Moms. Her mom was not involved last year and frankly, Zoe thinks, it showed. The other moms all seem thrilled that Zoe is debuting with the junior girls. Though if someone else calls her “precocious,” Zoe might hurl. 

The only thing Zoe’s mom doesn’t seem super thrilled about is Zoe’s determination to ask Evan to be her escort. 

“I’m not sure that’s wise,” her mom says to her while the two of them are at the mall looking at shoes for Zoe. “He’s not from around here.”

“I know,” Zoe says slowly. “But… it might go a long way with Heidi?” She adds that in a very calculated manner. “I’m sure you’re tired of hearing all about the drama between you two at Pilates.”

Her mom considers Zoe carefully. “You make a good point,” she says. “But I would still rather see you ask someone with a little more solid standing in the community.”

“You mean like Jared Kleinman?” Zoe says, rolling her eyes. “Because we both know that’s just _asking_ for Jenny Kleinman to be overly involved in every decision. At least we know Heidi will let us take point when it comes to a tux.”

Her mom looks at her for a moment. “Jenny Kleinman _is_ a bit of a busybody.”

Zoe takes that as permission. 

The real task now is trying to get Evan alone to ask him. The only time they seem to have is the study hall that they share, and Zoe hasn’t been in a few weeks because she has actually had a big group project for history so she’s been stuck in the library dealing with that. 

Connor gets pulled out for a doctor appointment on Friday during lunch, so Zoe decides to make her move then. Evan’s reading while he eats, listening to something with earbuds. When Zoe gets closer, she realizes Evan’s got Connor’s iPod. She recognizes the stickers he’s stuck on the back. 

Zoe sits down next to Evan and gives him a smile. He looks up at her and immediately stops tapping his fingers along to the beat of whatever he’s listening to. He pulls the earbuds out and looks at Zoe bashfully. “S-Sorry,” He says. “Connor… h-he left this in French this morning? Alana br-brought it to me in Bio? I didn’t- I _wasn’t_ like. Sn-snooping.”

Like Zoe cares if Evan snoops on her brother. She shrugs. “Unless you find like a bunch of hidden country tracks on there, I don’t think there’s anything worth snooping on.” She glances at the playlist Evan is hastily clicking out of. It just says “M.”

Zoe decides to move past that. “So… I wanted to ask you something.”

Evan’s eyes widen. “Okay?”

“The winter cotillion is coming up. It’s like the week before Christmas. Will you be my escort? Please?” 

Evan looks confused. “You mean… like. Like your date?”

Zoe smiles brightly. “Yes. Like my date.”

Evan’s face goes super pink. Zoe likes it. He’s cute like that. “Um,” he says awkwardly. “I… I’ve n-never been to a… a cotillion before?”

Maybe it’s not as much of a thing in Seattle, Zoe thinks. “Oh well. It’s like. A girl’s debut into society? So you like. Dress up. Dance a little. It’s kinda cool.”

“D-dance?” Evan repeats. He’s gone properly red. “I don’t… I don’t dance.”

“It’s just a waltz.” Zoe shrugs. “It’s not like some big choreographed routine or whatever.”

Evan opens and closes his mouth a few times. Like he’s speechless. He winds the headphones around Connor’s iPod. “C-can I… can I think about it?” Evan says. 

Zoe frowns. 

“I’m not. I’m not l-like saying no?” Evan says quickly. “I just… I g-gotta talk to H-Heidi and-and like I d-don’t know how to waltz?”

Zoe grins at him. “Sure. Totally. Talk to Heidi. And I can teach you how to waltz, if you’re really worried about that.”

Evan bites his lip. Nods. Gives her a sort of shy smile. “Okay.”

Zoe doesn’t know why she says this next thing. “Do you know why my brother’s always at the doctor these days?” 

Her tone gives away some of her worry. She’s trying not to but… is Connor sick? It would be just like her parents for Connor to have cancer or some shit and not tell her. 

Evan bites his lip again. “It’s… it’s n-not mine to tell?”

Zoe frowns. “Is he okay?”

Evan frowns now. “You could ask him.”

But that would violate Zoe’s very effective strategy of never having to talk to him. She frowns back. “Maybe this wasn’t obvious to you when we were all riding to school together, but Connor and I don’t… like we’re not close?”

Evan just looks at her. “I think y-you should t-talk to Connor,” he says like it’s that easy. “I’m sure he would… he’d appreciate that you cared.”

“I don’t,” Zoe says almost instantly. 

Evan raises his eyebrows. “Then why ask m-me?”

Zoe stares at him. 

She realizes this is probably why she likes him. He doesn’t just give her whatever she wants just because she’s Cynthia Nichols’s daughter. He treats her like a person. She can tease him and play with him a little bit, but when it comes to the stuff she actually wants, he makes her work for it. 

Damn that’s. Annoying. 

“Let me know what you decide about cotillion,” she says lightly, getting up from Evan’s table. 

“Okay.”

* * *

Heidi has to admit, she did not see this one coming. 

A rock concert with Connor? Sure. Cotillion with Zoe?

That definitely threw her. 

“I t-told her I’d ask,” Evan says, his voice clearly more unsteady than he wants it to be from the expression on his face. He looks so damn nervous. 

He didn’t look that nervous when he asked her about the concert. This is… interesting. 

“Y-you d-don’t have to say yes,” Evan continues. “I k-know it’s, like, a big thing? Cotillion? It’s a b-big deal around here?”

He just looks more and more freaked out, and Heidi finds herself frowning. “Do you want me to tell you no so you don’t have to make the decision?” Heidi asks, genuinely curious. 

Evan’s eyes go wide. He looks like a deer in the headlights. 

“I don’t know,” he says after a moment. “I… maybe? I-I-I d-don’t know if I c-can do this.” Evan gestures vaguely. “Like, there’s… there’s a waltz? I d-don’t know how to waltz they’re going to laugh at me and-and-and it will just be s-so obvious I d-don’t belong?”

Heidi frowns a little. “Honey, it sounds like you don’t _want_ to go.”

“I didn’t say that,” Evan replies immediately, and Heidi feels her eyebrows hit her hairline. 

Oh. 

_Oh._

“I thought things between you and Zoe had kind of cooled down a bit,” Heidi admits. “But if you’re seriously considering going to cotillion with her…”

Evan swallows visibly. “It’s, like, a b-big deal around here, right?” he asks tentatively. “I d-don’t want to embarrass you.” He blinks. Looks embarrassed. “Or Zoe, obviously.” 

Something in Heidi’s chest twists a little. 

Evan doesn’t want to embarrass _her_. That’s…

Incredibly, wonderfully sweet. 

“You won’t,” Heidi says, as gently but firmly as she can. “I mean, as long as you don’t punch anyone.”

Evan’s cheeks color, but there’s the tiniest smile on his face. “That’s basically my motto these days. D-don’t punch people.”

Heidi smiles. “And how’s that working out for you?”

Evan looks at her. The smile widens just a little. “I mean, a lot of p-people deserve to be punched? But I don’t, so…” The smile disappears. He looks at Heidi, something fearful in his eyes. “I haven’t got into a fight since the f-first day of school,” he says. “I’m t-trying? Really hard. To be, like… better. I k-know you took a b-big risk letting me stay and I-I-I don’t want you to think I d-don’t recognize that, and that it’s not important and that I d-don’t appreciate it, because I do, it’s b-basically the best thing to ever h-happen to me and I don’t want to. Like. Screw that up? So I’m trying. Not to be s-such a screw-up. I’m trying.”

Heidi’s heart aches. “I know you are, honey,” she says gently. “I see how hard you’re trying.” She smiles at him. “Guess I’d better get a new dress, huh? Cynthia Murphy will have my head if I show up to her daughter’s cotillion in a dress I’ve worn out before.”

Evan looks completely relieved. “You’re gonna be there?”

“Are you kidding? Of course I’ll be there,” she assures him. “Not gonna leave you to fend off those vultures alone.” Evan’s whole face bursts into a smile, and it makes him look like the kid he really is. “Besides,” she continues. “Trust me, kid, you’re going to be bored out of your mind for most of the night. There’s a lot of waiting around at these things.”

“I m-mean, I didn’t expect it to be, like, super entertaining,” Evan admits, screwing up his nose a little. “And I’m g-gonna have to wear my suit, right? The one I wore to the hearing?”

“Oh no,” Heidi says immediately. “You’ve got to wear a tux. And there are gloves.”

Evan looks horrified. “Why are there gloves?”

“So you don’t leave fingerprints when you run off with all the expensive jewelry,” Heidi replies with a smirk. “Obviously.” Evan looks horrified and also embarrassed and she decides to cut the kid a break. “It’s a formal event. Like, ridiculously formal. Tuxedo and gloves and a cummerbund and all that jazz.”

“I d-don’t know what a cummerbund is,” Evan admits. 

Heidi nods. “I didn’t, either, until I moved here.” She grins. “Between you and me, I always thought it sounded kind of dirty.”

Evan laughs a little. “You’re not wrong.” 

Something occurs to Heidi. “What does Connor think about you going to cotillion with his sister?”

Evan’s cheeks burn. “I haven’t told him,” he admits. “He… he k-knows I kind of like Zoe? But, like. He-he’s my best friend and th-that’s more important?” His shoulders sag. “I, uh… I figured I’d a-ask you, then talk to Connor after the concert on Wednesday? I don’t… I w-want him to have a good time at the concert, I d-don’t want to ruin it?” Evan swallows hard. “I w-won’t go with Zoe to cotillion unless Connor’s okay with it.”

Heidi nods. Something inside her feels warm at that. Warm at the knowledge that Evan’s loyal, that he’s sticking by Connor. From everything that Larry’s said, Connor deserves someone in his corner. 

“If Zoe’s making her debut,” Heidi points out, “then Connor’s not going to get away with not attending. So he’ll be there, anyway. And the escorts don’t really do much in the grand scheme of things. Sure, it might be a little weird that you’re his sister’s escort, but…” Heidi pauses. Tries to gather her thoughts, make sure what she’s saying makes sense. “He might actually like it. If you’re there.”

Evan smiles a little. “You think so?”

“I can’t be completely sure,” Heidi admits, “but yeah.”

“Okay,” says Evan with a nod. His smile gets a little bigger. “Thank you? Just… thank you.”

The way he says it makes Heidi think he’s not just talking about permission for cotillion. Her chest squeezes painfully again. 

“You’re welcome, Evan.”

* * *

Evan heads home straight after school on Wednesday with Connor. The plan is to get their homework done as quickly as possible so they can focus on the concert. They’d done a lot at lunch, so they don’t really have much to catch up on aside from last period English, which is to keep working on a creative writing project. 

Connor is an incredible creative writer, Evan has found out, even if he won’t admit it. He’s got these amazing turns of phrases that make something inside his chest twist and churn, this beautiful imagery that’s just… really incredible. 

It’s hard to pinpoint exactly what it is Evan likes about Connor’s writing, and he’s trying to give, like, constructive feedback, but all he can really manage is that Connor’s writing makes him feel things. 

“What kind of things?” Connor asks, his cheeks a little pink, looking at Evan with this expression he can’t quite figure out. 

Evan’s not exactly the kind of person who spends a lot of time trying to figure out his fucking feelings. Life hasn’t exactly given him a lot of time for introspection. 

He tries to figure out how to explain it. 

“Just… it makes me feel like someone else gets it?” Evan says, a little helplessly. A long-forgotten memory finds its way to the forefront of his brain. “It kind of reminds me… my mom used to listen to this song a lot,” he says slowly, trying to explain. “Just before she died. She really liked it? I don’t… I can’t really remember, but it was about this person who was listening to this guy sing a song and she was _sure_ it was about her? But she’d never met him before. There’s a bit in the verse? _He sang as if he knew me, in all my dark despair._ ”

“Killing Me Softly,” Connor says, almost immediately. 

Evan nods. “Yeah,” he says. “It’s that one.” 

Connor’s eyes are wide. He still has that expression Evan doesn’t recognize. “That’s… my writing makes you think of that?”

Evan shrugs. Nods. Doesn’t look at him. “That sounds so stupid-”

“It doesn’t,” Connor says firmly. 

Evan’s face is burning. 

He’s being so fucking weird. 

Evan shrugs, trying to seem like he’s not being a total freak right now. “I’m sorry,” he says, trying to laugh. “That’s, like, not even a slightly helpful piece of feedback on your writing, I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” says Connor, his face twisting a little, ducking his head so his hair covers his face. “I… now I feel dumb for what I was going to say about yours.”

“Yeah?”

Connor smiles a little. “I was just gonna say that I really like your personification? It’s kind of unexpected. It captures attention, because it feels out of place, but not in a bad way?”

Evan’s still horribly embarrassed but Connor’s voice is tentative and Evan doesn’t want him to have to feel weird, so he nods, trying to be encouraging. 

“Like… it doesn’t fit, but it doesn’t need to, and it’s a good thing that it doesn’t, because if it did, you’d lose all of the charm.”

Something warm blossoms in Evan’s stomach. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” says Connor, his voice soft. He’s looking at Evan now, really looking, and Evan feels his face still burning. He’s still got that song buzzing around in his head. 

_I felt all flushed with fever…_

“Thank you,” Evan says after a moment. “That’s… that’s helpful.” He smiles at Connor. Looks at his watch. “We should maybe think about wrapping up. Do we want to grab some food on the way?” he asks. “We could sit down and eat something. It doesn’t have to be, like, a lot, just… something.”

Connor’s jaw clenches. “I can try,” he says, sounding determined. 

“If you really can’t,” Evan tells him, “there are almonds in the glove box of your car. We can eat some on the way.”

Connor blinks. “You put almonds in my glove box?”

“Not, like, loose almonds,” Evan hurries to explain. “They’re in a bag.” 

Connor smiles a little. “Makes sense.” His cheeks turn a little pink. He swallows visibly. “I, uh, I wanted to get ready? It won’t take ages, I just wanted to… put on some eyeliner if that’s okay, I know that’s fucking weird-”

“It’s not,” Evan interrupts firmly. He looks down at his polo shirt. “I… shit. I can’t wear this, can I? I’m g-gonna look like such a dork, oh my god.”

Connor looks at him for a moment. Bites his lip. “You might stand out,” he says, a little reluctantly. “I could lend you a t-shirt? Pretty sure I’ve got something that might work.”

“Okay,” says Evan helplessly, because he’s got no idea. 

Connor smiles at him. Goes to his dresser and pulls out a whole bunch of shirts. “Okay,” he says. “So, band shirts. I’ve got Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, Paramore, The Killers...”

“I like The Killers,” Evan offers. 

Connor kind of stops in his tracks a little. “You can’t wear a Killers shirt to a Panic! show,” he says, like it’s obvious, and Evan just stares at him for a moment. 

“Why?”

“Panic! At The Disco fans will eat you alive if you show up in a Killers shirt,” Connor says. “There’s, like, beef between them. They’re both from Vegas.” Connor shrugs. “I mean, I don’t really care, they’re both good bands, but if I had to choose? Panic! All the way.”

“Alright,” says Evan with a nod. 

Connor goes back to his dresser. “My Chemical Romance, Say Anything… how about Fall Out Boy?” He throws a whole pile on the bed, then picks up the Killers shirt and puts it back in his drawer. “Okay, I guess… these are your options.” He looks down at his own shirt and smiles a little at Evan. “I’m already dressed, so… I’ll just do my eyeliner real quick.”

Connor turns around again, moving things on top of his dresser in a way that makes Evan assume he’s looking for said eyeliner. 

Evan suddenly feels incredibly stupid in this dumb, preppy polo shirt. 

Like, what the fuck, who even _is_ this asshole in a polo shirt?

He barely recognizes himself these days. 

Evan can’t get out of the stupid polo fast enough. He takes it off quickly, then looks at the assorted t-shirts on the bed, going through them and laying them out so he can make some kind of choice. 

* * *

Connor finds his eyeliner and goes to the mirror to put it on. He’s half-finished with his right eye when he realizes that Evan’s standing there without a shirt on. 

He has his back to Connor so Connor can. See his back. See the muscles there moving, see Evan’s strong shoulders, the curve of his spine…

Connor pokes himself in the eye. 

“Fuck,” he mutters feeling especially stupid. Connor’s eye waters. 

“You okay?” Evan says, turning around and that’s _so much worse._

Evan doesn’t have a shirt on. 

Like he knew that but also. It’s worse seeing him from the front. 

His chest is exposed. His stomach. He’s not… he’s not like ripped or whatever, but Evan looks… solid. Strong. There’s something extremely attractive about how his arms connect to the rest of him, how his collar bones are prominent, how all the muscles and tissues and sinew and bones are assembled in his make up. 

Connor’s mouth is open. Just hanging open. 

Jesus. Fuck. He’s staring. He’s such a creep. Fuck. 

“I’m fine,” he says, his eyes absolutely not raking over the way that he can see a small trail of hair that descends down from Evan’s bellybutton and disappears into the waistband of his jeans. Absolutely not thinking about what it would be like to touch Evan there. 

Fucking. 

Shit. 

Jesus fuck what the fuck it’s unfair that Evan is so hot. 

Connor blinks a few times and wipes away the tears that resulted from him poking himself in the fucking _eye_ like the gay disaster he is. He tries to focus on putting his eyeliner on but his hands are shaking now and the line is coming out messy and wobbly and Evan’s still just standing there without a shirt on and is that what other guys’ nipples look like? Should Connor be worried he has like. Weirdly tiny nipples? 

M’s nipples were small like Connor’s but he was small like Connor so… 

Fuck. 

“This MCR shirt is an extra small,” Evan remarks with a slight frown in his tone. “I’d totally stretch it out.”

“Uh-huh,” Connor says stupidly because he’s not even fucking listening to the words coming out of Evan’s face right now because Evan is half-naked in his bedroom and Connor’s just. Trying to put on fucking makeup. 

If someone could just put him down right now he would be fucking grateful. 

“Do I even know this one? R-red Jumpsuit whatever?”

“Yeah,” Connor says sort of breathlessly trying to just _focus_ on putting on eyeliner. “They do ‘Face Down,’ and ‘False Pretense’?”

“Right,” Evan says, crossing his arms while he considers which gives Connor a great view of his arms which are like insanely nice arms and maybe he’s _trying_ to kill Connor right now maybe that’s what’s happening. 

Connor tries to smudge out the mess he’s made of his right eye when the door swings open and reveals Zoe. 

Her eyes go big. 

Because Evan’s shirtless and Connor’s trying not to stare and fuck. 

“Knock much?” Connor says, annoyed because he did _not_ invite his sister in to ogle Evan thank you very much. 

“Sorry,” Zoe says, sounding distracted. “Dad left you some money to get food or whatever, he…” she trails off, still fucking looking at Evan and Connor is irrationally and unfairly annoyed because he is _also_ looking at Evan. Zoe gives Connor a few bills and he shoves them into his pocket. 

Evan seems to have caught on to the fact that Zoe’s looking at him. His face goes red. “I-I. N-need to figure out what to- what t-to wear?” He sounds kind of breathless and Connor thinks about physically throwing his sister out of his bedroom because now this is just. A lot worse. 

Zoe gives Connor a look. An “I know what you’re up to right now” look and Connor wants to sink into the floor and maybe become carpet. 

Zoe walks over to consider the shirts on Connor’s bed because apparently she is not absolutely paralyzed by shirtless boys. 

Bitch. 

“Ew definitely not this one,” Zoe says, discarding Connor’s favorite Say Anything shirt. “Hmm. Paramore? They’re good. Hayley Williams has a good voice.”

“Since when do you listen to Paramore?” Connor mutters grumpily. He made her a mix a few months back and she had refused to listen to it. 

Evan’s pulling on the Paramore shirt and Zoe shrugs. “I listened to them on the way to school with you two,” she says. She’s torn her eyes away from Evan, looking at Connor. “If you’re going to do the whole emo thing let me straighten your hair,” she says to Connor. 

“What’s wrong with my hair?” Connor mumbles, feeling his face go hot. 

“Other than looking like you’ve slept on it?” Zoe counters but it’s not her usual biting tone. “I’ll go turn on my flat iron. Come in when you’re done here.”

Evan gives Connor a questioning look. 

Connor just shrugs back at him. 

He looks good in the Paramore shirt. It’s a bit tight across Evan’s chest but that’s… good. Makes him look especially good. 

Connor swallows hard. 

Smudges his eyeliner a little with his ring finger, until it looks right. 

Evan looks slightly awkward for a moment. “D-do I look stupid?”

Connor shakes his head. “No! Oh my god no. You look… good.”

Evan gives him a smile. 

“Oh but the shoes,” Connor says suddenly. “Hang on.” He ducks into his closet for a second and pulls out his well-worn Chucks. “What size do you wear again?” 

Evan tilts his head slightly. “Twelve? S-sorry I have k-kinda big feet.”

Connor does too. He shows off the 12 on the tag and hands them to Evan. “You know what they say about guys with big feet, right?” Connor hears himself say.

Evan’s face is so red that Connor suspects you could fry an egg from the heat. “N-no,” he says even though from the way he says it, it’s clear Evan totally knows what Connor’s talking about. 

“Big hands,” Connor says stupidly, spreading his fingers wide and gently bumping the palm of his hand against Evan’s nose. 

Evan laughs like he’s relieved. 

“I’m just gonna… Zo’s room is down the hall?”

“Yeah, I’m… l-let me just…”

Connor goes before he erupts into flames. 

Zoe’s got a bunch of hair stuff set out. She pulls the chair in front of her vanity out and Connor sits when she nods there. She immediately starts brushing out his hair. He kinda expected her to yank the brush through the tangles, but she’s surprisingly gentle. 

“You have a lot of hair,” she tells him. 

“I guess?” Connor says awkwardly. 

“Ew you’re sort of shedding,” she says with a slight laugh. She shows him the brush full of brown hair. 

Connor _has_ noticed that a little. It’s not as bad as it was. He spent part of last year kinda secretly afraid he was going bald. 

Zoe sprays… something on his hair and then sections it off into pieces with clips. Then she starts running the flat iron over it. 

Evan comes in after a few minutes. He lingers in the doorway and Connor wonders if he’s never been in a girl’s room before and _that’s_ why he’s all blushing and weird about it. Zoe’s got a bunch of laundry piled on her bed. There’s like. Some bras and a thong on top of the pile. 

Gross. 

“Just sit wherever,” Zoe says to Evan. 

He perches on the very corner of Zoe’s bed. 

Zoe keeps straightening Connor’s hair. It does look kind of cool like this. Shinier somehow. 

“Your hair is actually really long,” Zoe comments. “I didn’t realize because it’s so wavy.”

Connor shrugs. 

He hasn’t cut his hair since ninth grade. It grows fast. Whatever. 

She uses a comb to part it way on the side, the way Connor’s seen dudes in music videos and working at Hot Topic wearing it but assumed he couldn’t pull off. 

He kind of can, turns out. 

She sprays more stuff on it and then declares that Connor looks like “proper emo trash.”

“Thanks asshole,” he says to her and Zoe actually laughs. 

She turns her eyes on Evan. “Okay you’re next,” she says to him. 

“M-me? I don’t. I don’t think you c-can straighten mine?”

“No but you need to do something,” Zoe says, sounding almost impatient. She rubs some gel into her hands and approaches Evan. She runs it through his hair like the idea of touching his hair doesn’t strike her as a _huge fucking deal._ When she’s done, Evan’s hair is moderately spiky. Not in the douchebag way the assholes at school wear it, but in a way that’s kinda. Punk. Evan looks like a totally different person. 

It’s unbelievably hot. 

“There. What do you think?”

* * *

Evan feels like a totally different person. 

He definitely looks like one. 

It fucks with his head, a little bit. This whole idea that depending on how he dresses, how he does his hair, he can look like… someone else.

He’s been pretending to be someone else this whole time, someone who belongs in Newport Beach, someone who wears polo shirts. 

Now he’s looking at himself in the mirror and it’s… someone else. 

He likes this person, he thinks. 

He might be okay with being this person. 

Zoe’s got her hands on his shoulders and they’re warm. Warm and small and they feel nice on his shoulders. They felt even nicer in his hair, earlier. 

“I like it,” Evan says, answering her question. He meets her gaze in the mirror. She’s smiling, something genuine and open in her face. “Th-thank you.”

“We should go,” says Connor, and his voice isn’t exactly sharp but it’s not gentle either. Zoe looks at him, and the harshness in his voice drops significantly. “Thank you. For the hair.”

“If you’re going to go be emo trash, you may as well commit to it,” says Zoe firmly, and Connor actually smiles at that. “Have fun, yeah?”

Connor and Zoe look kind of alike when they’re both smiling, Evan notices. 

It’s the first time he’s seen them both smiling. 

It’s really nice. Really nice to see them kind of getting along. 

“We will,” says Connor, standing up. Evan stands up, too, and finds himself face to face with Zoe, who’s looking at him intently. 

“That shirt looks really good on you,” she says, and she’s definitely checking him out, and Evan feels his stomach flip. “By the way.”

“Th-thank you,” says Evan, and follows Connor out of Zoe’s room. 

It doesn’t take them long to get on the road. They both agree they’ll stop to find somewhere to eat when they get to Long Beach. Connor plugs his iPod in and goes straight to Panic! At The Disco, which Evan thinks is kind of adorable. 

“Okay,” Connor says, and he sounds genuinely excited. “This is going to be so cool? I’ve been reading about the tour online and everyone who’s seen it says it’s really good.”

“I’ve never been to a concert before,” Evan says, even though he knows Connor knows that. “Does the band just, like, play their music? And you get to hear them live?”

“Basically,” says Connor, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel along to the song, this big smile on his face. “But, like, apparently this is a proper show. These guys are from Vegas and there are like, dancers and I think stilt-walkers?”

“Stilt-walkers?” Evan asks, genuinely intrigued by this.

“Yeah,” says Connor, still smiling so wide. “Crazy, huh? I can’t wait, this is going to be awesome.”

A lot of the songs on this album are songs on Connor’s ‘M’ playlist, Evan notices. Not that he wants to bring that up, because it’s definitely weird that he, like, wanted to check out the playlist when he had Connor’s iPod. Evan can kind of imagine Connor and Miguel sitting in a fancy dorm, listening to this song. 

If Miguel were here, Connor probably wouldn’t want to be at the concert with Evan, because Evan doesn’t appreciate this nearly as much as Miguel would. 

The thought annoys him a little. Makes him feel bad and guilty and… weird. 

This Miguel guy just ditched Connor, after Connor tried to help him, and doesn’t deserve to be going to a concert with him. Not that Evan does, either, but Connor wants him here, so he’s here and he’s going to have a good time. 

Well, he’s going to do everything he can to make sure Connor has a good time, and not fuck everything up. 

Connor seems happy the whole drive, kind of half-singing along to the songs on the album, tapping on his steering wheel and occasionally looking over to Evan and smiling this smile that makes Evan’s stomach flip a little. It’s a very nice smile. 

He likes seeing Connor happy like this. 

Likes it a lot. 

Connor’s hair is all shiny and his eyes look really nice all outlined in eyeliner and Evan just… likes that he’s happy. He wants his friend to be happy, because there’s been too much that’s been hard for Connor, too much that’s made him suffer. 

Evan’s glad he gets to see this. 

Really, really glad. 

The smile fades when Evan gently reminds Connor they need to find somewhere to eat. Disappears completely when they pull into the parking lot of a diner. 

Evan hates that. A lot. 

“Did you wanna, like, split something?” Evan suggests as they sit down. He tries to smile encouragingly at his friend. “We could just get, like, a chicken salad or something.”

“I thought I’d get some soup,” says Connor, his voice a little shaky but determined. “And maybe we could split some fries?”

Evan feels something inside his chest leap. “Yeah?” 

Connor shrugs. Looks at his nails. “I mean, I might only eat a few,” he admits. “But I’m, like… trying something out, I don’t know.”

“Little steps,” Evan says, and Connor looks at him and smiles a little. 

Evan decides to go for the soup as well, and they get some fries to share. He’s happy to see that Connor is indeed eating the fries, and keeps up a conversation to try to avoid Connor feeling super weird about it all. To distract him a little. 

“So I looked up the band?” Evan says, a little hesitantly. “To, like… I didn’t want to make a total idiot of myself because I don’t know anything.”

“Yeah?” Connor asks, picking up a fry and kind of holding it near his mouth, not quite eating it. “What did you find out?”

“That they’re really into Chuck Palahniuk,” says Evan. He’s pleased that Connor actually puts the fry in his mouth once Evan starts talking. “I, uh, I’ve read some of his stuff, but I didn’t make the connection until I saw it online.” 

Connor’s eyes light up. “Yeah?” he says, once he’s finished chewing and swallowing.

Connor reaches for another fry and Evan is just so fucking happy that he’s eating that he goes into a full on rant about his opinions on Fight Club, which it turns out are quite similar to Connor’s. By the time he’s finished talking, Connor’s eaten nearly half the fries, and looks a little taken aback to realize it. 

“You doing okay?” Evan asks, smiling as encouragingly as he can. 

“Yeah,” says Connor, sounding almost surprised. “Yeah, I am.” He looks at Evan and smiles. “Are we ready to do this?”

“First concert,” says Evan, almost to himself. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "I constantly thank god for Esteban" by Panic! at the Disco.  
> Fic title is from "Camisado" by Panic! at the Disco.
> 
> Find us on Tumblr if you wanna shout things at us...  
> Tess: ch-ch-ch-ch-cherrybomb.tumblr.com  
> Rose: vinegar-and-glitter-fic.tumblr.com


	20. Let’s Get These Teen Hearts Beating Faster, Faster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan and Connor go to a concert and take a nap. All hell breaks loose.

The show is going to be crowded as hell, Connor realizes almost immediately. He feels a ripple of excitement go through him as he and Evan file into the line to go through security. 

Evan’s glancing around a little uncertainly. 

Connor nudges him gently. “You good?”

Evan nods, still glancing around a bit anxiously. “Y-yeah. Just. There’s a lot of people?”

Connor nods back. “It’ll be okay. We’ll like… ease into it?” He shrugs awkwardly. “Little steps.”

Evan smiles at him. “Okay.” He still looks uncertain, but less fearful. 

Connor counts it as a success. They get through security and then Connor suggests that they swing by the bathrooms and the concession stand before the openers go on. Evan smiles at him gratefully as they weave through the crowds, and Connor makes sure that they don’t get separated, glancing out over the crowd a few times to try to direct them through the least packed channels. 

When they make it to the bathroom, Evan hurries off and locks himself in a stall. Connor tries not to dwell on it, just pees and washes his hands and goes to wait outside the bathroom. Evan reappears after a couple of minutes, looking slightly calmer, and he and Connor troop off to buy a soda a piece. 

While they’re in line for drinks, a girl about their age strikes up a conversation with them. “Have you seen them live before?” She’s wearing a Panic! T-shirt and arm warmers. Her hair is dyed black and she has a lip ring. 

Connor nods. “Yeah, I saw them in Boston in like, February?” 

Evan looks at him, surprised. “Y-you did?”

Connor feels weird for bringing it up. “Yeah, uh, my roommate and I snuck out to catch a bus. It was a fun show, but his fake ID got taken.”

“Bummer,” The girl says. “I have mine, if you guys want anything?” She smiles at Connor. 

“No thanks,” Connor says, remembering Heidi’s comment about the two of them not looking for trouble at this show. “I don’t really drink.” It’s kind of a lie but it seems to go down well with this girl. 

“Straightedge. Nice.”

Connor doesn’t share that he used to have a bit of a drug problem actually, or share that he eats so little that if he drinks at all he gets sick these days. Or that he  _ drove  _ here and he’s not about to risk crashing his car with Evan in it. 

Instead he says it was nice to meet her and then he and Evan walk off. 

“That girl w-was t-totally hitting on you,” Evan says with a bit of a laugh. 

“What?” Connor says, certain Evan is fucking with him. “No, that’s not… No.”

“She s-super was,” Evan goes on, teasing a little. 

Connor shoves him playfully. “No way man.”

“She wants to m-make emo b-babies with you.”

“No fucking gaydar,” Connor says, rolling his eyes. 

They make their way down to the ground level. Larry really wasn’t fucking around when he bought Connor these tickets. They are… such good tickets. Fucking hell. Connor hands off his soda to Evan for a minute to text his dad thanking him for the gift and saying that he and Evan are having fun so far. 

The openers are both pretty good. Neither are Connor’s favorite band, exactly, but they play fun sets and get the crowd pretty hyped up. Just before the first song of the opening act, Connor reaches into his pocket and hands Evan a pair of earplugs. 

“Isn’t the whole point t-to hear the bands?” Evan says dubiously. 

“Trust me,” Connor says, putting in his own pair. “You’ll be able to hear them fine.” 

Evan nods and puts in his earplugs. 

Evan seems to be watching Connor carefully as the openers play, sometimes mimicking things Connor does, sometimes just looking at him for a second between observing the crowd and watching the action onstage. 

Between sets they talk without earplugs and find themselves surrounded by girls. 

Like completely surrounded by girls. 

Evan keeps blushing and Connor feels uncomfortable when someone asks him for his number, but he ends up giving it out anyway because he thinks, stupidly, it might be nice to know someone else to go to shows with. 

Not that Evan’s a bad show companion. 

He just seems a little bit freaked out by the sheer number of people present. 

Connor honestly understands that. People are a lot sometimes. It can be hard to manage them when they are invading your space and in your face and stuff. 

“You doing okay?” He asks Evan as the crowd around them starts chanting, “Panic! Panic! Panic!”

Evan smiles at Connor. “Y-yeah! Are you h-having fun?”

Connor considers this. He… is, actually. He’s having a lot of fun. Which is weird. He sort of felt like maybe he had forgotten how to do this. How to have fun with someone. He nods enthusiastically and then suddenly the lights dim dramatically. Connor feels his heart pick up suddenly. The show, the show is properly starting. 

Everyone around them screams. Connor screams. Evan lets out a short but enthusiastic “WOO!” 

There’s a huge red velvet curtain on the stage. 

It slowly opens, revealing the band and a whole stage full of backup dancers, and without so much as a pause, the band launches into “The Only Difference Between Matrydom and Suicide is Press Coverage.” 

Connor can’t help himself. He screams along with the crowd and claps and woos. Beside him, Evan is positively beaming, his smile so bright it almost distracts Connor from the stage for a moment. Almost. 

He’s a little mesmerized by the band. They’re all in vaguely old-timey, circus-y sorts of outfits. Brendon Urie, the lead singer, has makeup on his face to make him look a little like a puppet. Ryan Ross, on lead guitar, is wearing a vest and a hat and a whole lot of makeup around one of his eyes. 

Connor kind of can’t believe he’s here. With Evan. Screaming along to a song he really loves with a band he really likes in front of him. 

People around them are all jumping up and down and it’s infectious. Before he can really think too hard about it, Connor catches himself bouncing along with them, kind of just getting lost in all of it. 

Evan’s watching him the whole time. 

The whole damn time. 

It’s a wild show. There’s half naked girls and a lot of dancing on stage. Evan keeps smiling and laughing which fills Connor with a real intense warmth for his friend. He’s just… so fucking glad Evan came to this concert with him. 

Panic! plays a cover of “Killer Queen” that even has Evan bouncing to the beat a little. They keep laughing to each other, like they’re both in on some kind of joke together. 

Brendon Urie is a strangely attractive man-puppet, Connor thinks. He’s sort of shaped a bit like Evan is. Solid and strong but soft in some places too. God, Connor needs to get it together. He focuses back on the stage, on Brendon Urie as he gets on the mic again and starts talking about some kind of dream, but Connor’s eyes drift back to Evan yet again. God he looks good tonight. Connor tears his eyes away from Evan to look back at the stage.

“Your lover’s running toward you,” Brendon Urie says, extending his hand out toward Ryan Ross. The guitarist approaches and Brendon leans in close, putting his hand on the back of Ryan’s neck. “The wind whipping through his lovely, lavish locks,” He’s touching Ryan’s hair now. Getting really up in his space. “You lean in for that perfect, passionate kiss…” There are screams from all over the crowd as it looks like these two men basically kiss on stage. Connor even feels his cheeks flushing. “But this is not that dream!” Brendon cries, backing away fast. “This is hard, sweaty, angry, crazy, monstrous  _ fucking… _ ” And then the band kicks into “Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off.”

Connor feels his heart pounding hard in his chest. 

Evan isn’t just looking at him now. He’s outright staring, his lips parted slightly, and his cheeks are flushed in the dark and his eyes drop for the slightest second and Connor thinks for that second that he’s looking at Connor’s mouth but then he’s looking directly into Connor’s eyes Connor wants to ask if he’s okay, if everything is okay as the band sings out “Let’s get these teen hearts beating faster, faster!” and if Connor’s own heart was going any faster he might pass out. 

Evan breaks off the eye contact first. 

Connor looks back at the stage, immediately pulled into the music. He forgets that look on Evan’s face pretty quickly because this is… such a good show. 

It’s all sort of a blur after that. The band covers Eleanor Rigby, which makes Evan smile widely and tell Connor he “actually knows The Beatles” and Connor thinks about telling Evan about how Zoe was in the middle of learning all of their stuff on guitar before he went away to Hanover but decides it’s too loud and he should mention it later. 

They’re both laughing and basically dancing around by the time Panic’s singing their next song, shouting along with the lyrics. The crowd goes absolutely bananas when the band plays “I Write Sins, Not Tragedies,” which makes sense because it’s on the radio. But Connor’s heart flipflops and backflips at the way Brendon Urie sinks to his knees in front to Ryan Ross while he sings, his face only separated from Ryan’s crotch by a guitar, and Evan’s definitely looking at Connor again and honestly Connor didn’t know. He’d seen the band in February and it had been a little gay but not this much and not with half-naked dancers behind them all. This isn’t all some gay plot he swears. 

The show ends with “Build God, Then We’ll Talk,” and there is this really weird sense of absolute happiness that sweeps through Connor when the band gets to the bit where they parody “My Favorite Things.” Tonight has been… so good. Evan seems to be enjoying himself. The band sounded amazing, the show itself was fun and weird and sexy and strange and… Connor is actually so fucking glad he’s here. Right now. Here and alive and…

Yeah. 

It’s a weird moment but Connor tries not to concentrate on it. 

The last chords of the song fade out and the band all take theatrical bows and Evan is smiling broadly at Connor, this big open smile, not guarded, not careful and Connor grins back for a long moment before his brain remembers that they can’t, in fact, actually stay here in this venue forever. He takes out his earplugs and Evan does the same. 

“It’s gonna be… super nuts as we try to leave,” Connor says somewhat seriously. “So we need to try hard not to get separated.”

“W-we won’t,” Evan says somewhat dismissively, but then the entire crowd lurches and Evan looks slightly panicked to be eating his words so Connor wraps an arm around Evan’s shoulder, pressing him close to his side, trying to keep Evan away from the rude people who immediately begin to shove and bitch about they have places to be. 

As if nobody else does. 

They wind their way through the rows and aisles of seats, too narrow now to stay side by side, so Connor reaches a hand back and grabs Evan’s. Evan grabs back immediately, holding on tight tight tight, locking their fingers together and not letting go until they finally, finally reach the parking lot and Connor’s car. 

“You okay?” Connor asks. 

“Are you kidding?” Evan says, his voice slightly too loud. “Th-that was! So cool, Connor, I ca-can’t believe you wanted to bring me with you I can’t I -  _ thank _ you.”

Connor positively beams back at him. “Of course I brought you. I… You’re my best friend. Of course I brought you.” 

* * *

Evan’s the one to insist they listen to  _ A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out _ on the drive back to Newport Beach, and Connor seems only too happy to oblige. They both find themselves singing along and Evan’s surprised to note that Connor’s actually got a really nice voice when he’s singing. 

It’s just… so nice to see Connor like this. 

So nice to see him  _ happy _ . Evan finds himself looking at Connor more than he should because there’s a part of him that just needs to keep this, needs to commit this to memory so he can go back to it when things are hard. 

He wants to remember this for a really long time. Remember this whole night, remember Connor with his shiny hair and pretty eyes and genuine smile, losing himself in the music. 

He’s going to need it, when things eventually go wrong. 

They always do. 

When they arrive in Newport Beach, Connor turns to Evan. “I don’t really want to go home yet,” he admits, something soft in his voice. “I know it’s a school night, but… I think I just need to, like, process a little?”

“Yeah,” says Evan, nodding. “That’s like… yeah, I get that, I feel exactly that right now.”

Connor smiles. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” says Evan with a nod. 

Connor keeps driving. It takes a moment for Evan to realize where he’s headed. 

The gelato place. 

Evan’s heart does this weird little flip flop. “You want to get gelato?” he asks carefully. 

Connor looks at him, this soft smile on his face. “I know you like it,” Connor says, his voice gentle. “And hey, any excuse to hang out with you a bit longer.”

Evan’s heart flip flops again. Somersaults, then does a cartwheel. 

He’s being so fucking weird today. 

Evan gets pistachio gelato, because he knows Connor likes it, and Connor insists on paying, even though he’s not getting anything for himself. Evan makes sure to grab an extra one of the tiny spoons and hands it to Connor. 

“You don’t have to eat a lot,” he says, “but have a little?”

Connor’s face goes all soft. “Okay,” he says, and takes the tiniest little spoonful. Puts it in his mouth. Licks his lips a little, which makes Evan’s throat go kind of dry. 

Fuck, he is being so fucking weird about this. 

He just… 

The singer and the guitarist definitely nearly kissed at the concert, and Evan’s trying really hard to be cool with the whole gay thing but it had been  _ weird  _ to watch, weird in this strange, kind of exciting way, which makes no fucking sense because  _ Evan’s  _ not gay. 

Evan’s not. He absolutely can’t be. He knows he likes girls. 

He knows. He  _ knows.  _

But he keeps thinking about the guitarist and how good he’d looked in that vest, which is a super weird thing to think, because what kind of straight guy thinks about a  _ vest  _ being attractive, what the actual fuck?

He’s such a fucking disaster. 

His hand still feels warm from Connor holding it earlier. That’s pretty fucking gay. 

Tonight has been… pretty fucking gay. 

But Connor looks so happy, like he’s had this amazing time, and Evan loves seeing him happy. And Connor’s gay and Evan likes him so much, he’s his best friend, he gets him in a way that no one else ever has, but it’s not like that. 

Connor’s gay, and Evan’s just getting weirdly in his head about things. 

He needs to just… get his shit together. 

Just because Connor’s gay doesn’t mean that Evan’s going to turn gay, that’s not how it works, you’re either gay or you’re not, right? It’s not a proximity thing, it isn’t some kind of virus, it’s just… who you are. 

Connor knows who he is. 

Evan has… 

Evan has no idea. He can change his outfit and be a totally different person, it seems. 

He’s spent the last three months pretending to be Heidi Herzberg’s nephew from Seattle, trying to act like he belongs in Newport Beach with these asshole rich kids. 

He has no  _ idea  _ who he is. 

_ “You turn out to be a faggot, I’ll fucking kill you. You hear me? I’ll  _ kill  _ you.” _

Evan’s not gay. He spends way too much time thinking about girls to be gay. 

Fuck knows he definitely got an eyeful of some very nice boobs during the concert, and he definitely enjoyed that, but… he also felt kind of weird about watching two dudes kissing, and not a grossed out kind of weird. That’s…

“You okay, man?” 

Evan blinks. Looks at Connor, who’s looking at him with slight concern. 

“I’m okay,” Evan assures him. He eats a spoonful of gelato, then has a thought. “Wanna go eat this on the beach?”

They’re at the beach house barely a minute later. While they usually like to sit on the beach itself, because they’re still finishing the gelato they decide to sit on the loveseat on the porch. It’s stupidly comfortable, Evan realizes. There’s this soft blanket on it from the last time he and Heidi were here which he spreads over both of their legs. Connor looks surprised, but smiles appreciatively. 

“Nice night,” says Connor, looking out to the ocean. “Water’s not too wild.”

“I like it when it’s wild,” Evan says without thinking. “Kind of makes me feel like it understands me when it’s wild. You know?”

Connor’s quiet for a long moment. “Yeah,” he says finally. “I know.”

They pass the gelato between them, both taking small bites. Evan notices that Connor’s actually eating, even though it’s not a lot, and doesn’t seem to be having trouble swallowing, isn’t gagging or making a face or anything. He’s just… eating. 

Evan’s so fucking glad to see that he could cry. 

“I had an amazing time tonight,” Evan says, finishing the last little bite of gelato then putting the container on the floor. “That was… legitimately incredible, oh my god.”

“It was so good,” Connor says with a huge grin. “Seriously, tonight was just… the best? I had so much fun, I’m so glad you came with me.”

“Yeah?” Evan can’t help but ask. 

“Of course,” Connor says, like it’s that simple. “You’re my best friend. I wanted you there with me.” He smiles, something hard to read in his eyes. “Even if the concert had sucked, I’d have still liked getting to hang out with you. You’re… you’re so awesome.”

Evan feels his heart clench. “I’m n-not,” he tries to argue, but Connor doesn’t seem to want to hear it. 

“You’re awesome,” Connor insists. “You, like, came along to this big huge concert with me even though you don’t really like crowds? That’s… that’s a big fucking deal, Evan.”

“I wanted you to have a good birthday present,” Evan says, a little weakly. “Your birthday kind of sucked, so…” Something warm fills his chest. “I just wanted you to have a good time. You deserve to have something good, Connor.” 

Connor parts his lips, like he’s about to say something, then closes his mouth. He lets out this sigh. Looks at Evan intently. “I know it’s, like, super lame to keep saying,” he says after a moment. “But you really are my best friend? Probably the best friend I’ve ever had.”

Evan can’t help himself. “What about Miguel?”

Connor blinks. His expression shifts a little. “M and I weren’t exactly friends,” he says after a moment, his voice careful. 

This isn’t exactly new information. Evan had assumed as much based on some of the songs on the M playlist. For some stupid reason, though, Evan feels weird hearing it. 

“So he was your boyfriend?” Evan asks, hating how he needs to know. 

Connor screws up his face. Sighs. “I don’t fucking know,” he admits. “I thought maybe? But…” He trails off. Runs his hand through his hair. “I fucked it up.”

Evan feels a rush of anger, the familiar feeling of his blood pumping too fast in his head. “You fucked up by keeping him from getting kicked out of school?”

“I fucked up,” Connor says again, frowning. “He, like… didn’t like that I tried to swoop in and save the day? Like, he hates that shit. He’s Latino and I think he really just hated that I did the whole white savior bullshit and tried to fix things for him.”

Evan blinks. “But he let you do it,” he says with a frown. “He didn’t, like, argue? He let you take the fall for him. It seems that if he’s pissed about it, he shouldn’t have let you do it.”

Connor looks taken aback. “He worked really hard to get to Hanover. He didn’t deserve to be kicked out over one mistake.”

Evan feels his irritation rise a little. “Yeah, but, it was  _ his  _ mistake. That’s kind of hypocritical, don’t you think?”

Connor’s jaw shifted. “M didn’t have things easy,” he says defensively. “He had to work for shit. I never had to work for anything, it wouldn’t have been fair if he’d been kicked out-”

“I get not having things easy,” Evan says, almost snaps. “And I get making mistakes. But if someone wants to help you fix your mistakes, you don’t just turn around and abandon them the minute they have.” 

He thinks about Heidi. How she stuck her neck out for him. Invited him into her home. 

What kind of person would he be if he was a total jerk to her after everything? 

Connor looks genuinely surprised at Evan’s response. He’s blinking a lot and his jaw is clenched and he’s stopped smiling and Evan hates it, he hates it a lot. 

His shoulders sag. 

“I guess if you’re not used to getting help,” Evan says quietly after a moment, “I can understand finding it hard to accept. I just…” He looks at Connor intently. “I don’t understand why he’d do that to you, especially if you were more than friends. It doesn’t make sense.”

Connor’s cheeks go pink. He swallows visibly. “He probably just got sick of me,” he mumbles, and he looks so defeated Evan hates himself for bringing this whole thing up. “I mean, I’m kinda clingy or whatever? It must have been super annoying that I was always, like, calling and messaging and…” He rubs his face. It smudges his eyeliner a little. “I know I’m, like, a lot to deal with.”

Evan blinks. “No, you’re not.”

Connor’s jaw shifts. He looks so tired, so young all of a sudden. “I am. I… I’m all fucked up and weird and I can’t eat like a normal person and sometimes I just… feel too much and it’s all completely fucking overwhelming and sometimes I don’t want to even-”

His mouth snaps shut. 

His eyes go big. 

Connor looks… scared. 

Evan feels his heart beating far too fast. 

“You don’t want to even what?” Evan asks gently. 

Connor shakes his head. Lets out a shaky breath. “Can we not talk about this now?” he asks quietly. “Tonight has been amazing, I don’t want to ruin it.”

Evan nods. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Okay.” 

He leans back in the loveseat, enjoying how soft the cushions are. Connor’s warm beside him, his thigh pressed up against his. 

All of a sudden, he’s just exhausted. Must be some kind of adrenaline crash or whatever. 

Without questioning why, he leans over and rests his head on Connor’s shoulder. 

Almost immediately, Connor rests his head on top of Evan’s. 

It’s… nice. 

“It  _ was  _ amazing,” Evan says quietly, looking out to the ocean. “They were just super fun to watch and the music was really good and the dancers and stuff were great.”

“Yeah,” Connor says, equally quietly. 

Evan thinks about the guy on guitar with his vest and hat and the makeup on his face. He’d found himself looking at him a lot during the show, noticing his long legs, the way he played the guitar like it was completely natural. 

A thought occurs to him. “So there’s, like, definitely a member of the band you have a thing for,” he teases Connor lightly. “Right?”

Connor laughs a little. “Maybe,” he confesses. 

“Is it the guitarist?” Evan asks immediately. 

Connor’s quiet for a moment. “No, it’s definitely Brendon Urie,” he says after a while. 

“The frontman, right?” Evan asks. “The one who’s, like, only a few years older than us?”

“Yeah,” says Connor, something fond in his voice. “He’s just… he just goes for it, you know? He’s nice to look at. Kind of... solid and strong? He’s got this amazing voice and he’s just incredible to watch live, oh my god.” He’s quiet for a moment. When he continues, his voice is almost deliberately light. “Gotta admit, I wasn’t mad about him nearly making out with Ryan Ross.”

Evan’s heart is hammering way too quickly. “The guitarist?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah,” says Evan, trying to figure out what to say. “That was, uh… that was something.”

Connor laughs a little. He’s so close that Evan feels the laugh rather than sees it. “Must have been pretty fucking weird for you, huh.”

“Wasn’t expecting it,” Evan replies honestly. 

He blinks a few times. Connor’s warm. 

He’s comfortable. 

It’s been a good night. 

“We should get home,” Connor says, his voice soft, a little muffled. 

“We should,” Evan agrees. 

Neither of them move. 

Evan closes his eyes and listens to the sound of the ocean. 

* * *

Larry wakes up around six and goes about his usual routine. He’s feeling good about today. Connor actually texted him from the concert, thanking him for the tickets, saying he and Evan were having a good time. He’s pleased. His kid is actually talking to him. He’s actually communicating. 

Larry thinks that’s a win. 

He shaves. Gets dressed for work. Goes downstairs to make coffee. 

He hears the shower turn on from upstairs. Probably Zoe. 

Larry should get going soon since he’s got a meeting with the other senior partners which will take up a chunk of his morning, but he decides he’ll pop in on Connor quick to get his reaction to the concert before he goes. 

He knocks on Connor’s door. Waits for an answer. 

He’s probably still sleeping. The show probably didn’t end until at least 11, maybe he decided to sleep in a little. 

Larry decides to check on him. 

He pushes Connor’s door open. 

And Connor’s not there. 

His bed is empty. 

Larry's heart begins to race. 

His bed is empty. Connor isn’t here. 

He rushes downstairs and into the garage. Connor’s car is gone. 

He didn’t come home. Fuck. Fucking  _ fuck.  _

Larry gets his phone out and calls Connor. 

No answer. It rings and rings and goes to voicemail. 

Larry calls five more times, his panic mounting with each unanswered call. 

Fuck. Fuck. 

Maybe he crashed at Evan’s? Maybe he just… 

Larry can’t ignore the voice in his head telling him this is it, that this was the end, that Larry’s missed all the signs again, that Connor is gone, his mind flooded with images of Connor cold and unconscious, vomit dripping out of the corners of his mouth, eyes closed...

Larry calls Heidi. 

Even if Connor’s not there, Evan would know where he is. Evan would know. 

“Hello?”

“Heidi,” Larry says, struggling to keep the absolute terror and panic from his voice. “Is Evan there?”

“No,” Heidi says, and she sounds equally scared. “Is Connor?”

“No,” Larry replies. He starts listing out what he knows. “His car’s not here, he’s not answering his phone. The last I heard from him was when the concert was starting, he texted me to tell me they were having fun but I don’t know where he is, I-”

“Could they have gone to school early?” Heidi interrupts, and Larry knows she’s grasping at straws. “And just forgot to tell us?”

“He’s not answering his phone,” Larry says urgently, because Connor knows better, he knows better than to just not answer if one of his parents calls. “What do I do? Do I start calling hospitals? Did something happen on the drive home last night? Did they even make it out of Long Beach?”

“I don’t know,” Heidi replies, and she sounds near tears. “I don’t know, last I heard from Evan was when they grabbed dinner before the show.”

“I didn’t wait up,” Larry says, cursing himself because that was stupid that was  _ stupid  _ he’s grown complacent he’s gotten too comfortable he’s forgotten what he’s meant to be doing why didn’t he stay up until he knew his kid was home and safe. “Why didn’t I wait up? We let them go to a concert on a school night, one of us should have waited up-”

“The beach house,” Heidi says desperately. “Maybe… maybe they’re there? Evan likes it there, likes that it’s quiet, maybe they were too tired to finish the drive?”

“It’s three minutes away,” Larry says because that’s ridiculous the beach house is hardly far enough away to justify that. “Do you think they could be there?”

“I think it’s worth us checking,” Heidi says. “Before we freak out completely.”

“I’ll meet you there,” says Larry, and he hangs up. 

Larry gets into his car and speeds. Part of him is trying to work out next steps when the kids are obviously not there. Why would Connor do this, why would he stay out all night, why is he so stupid and irresponsible and god what if it’s not just stupidity what if he’s dead what if they crashed the car what if they got into a fight in the parking lot what if they were out all night doing drugs what if Connor dropped Evan at the beach house and headed out into the night with another bottle of pills and this time Larry’s too late -

His heart relaxes a little when he sees Connor’s car, clearly unscathed, parked out front. 

Oh thank god. 

Larry gets out of his car, hurrying toward the house. It’s locked from the front, so he swings around to the porch and finds them. 

His relief is so palpable that Larry almost weeps. 

They’re here. Sleeping on the loveseat, curled up together under a blanket. Evan’s head is on Connor’s chest, and Connor’s wrapped his arms around Evan tightly and they’re both fucking breathing thank god thank god. 

And as soon as the wave of relief swept in it is replaced by absolute outrage. 

This is stupid. Irresponsible. Unacceptable. 

Larry reaches out and roughly shakes Connor’s shoulder. 

He opens his eyes. 

_ (Thank god thank god thank god.)  _

“Dad?” Connor mutters sleepily, blinking a few times. He looks around, like he’s confused, and then his eyes widen. “Shit we fell asleep.” Connor shakes Evan frantically, “Dude wake up shit we fell asleep.”

Evan’s eyes pop open and he glances around, confusion and panic mingling in this expression. “We. What?”

And Larry. Loses it. 

“Connor, what the hell were you  _ thinking?” _ Larry thunders. “You didn’t come home!”

Connor scrambles to his feet, looking mortified. “I’m sorry it was an accident I’m so-”

“Sorry does not begin to cover it,” Larry rages. “You  _ didn’t come home!  _ You could have been dead for all I knew! You didn’t call or text or answer your phone! What were you  _ thinking _ ? You can’t just do this kind of shit anymore Connor, I thought we were past this!”

“I know,” Connor says, his voice small. “I fucked up I fucked up.”

“You bet your ass you did! Absolutely unacceptable Connor, I trusted you to be smart about this and the first opportunity I give you to prove you can handle yourself, you stay out all night!”

“It was an accident!” Evan pipes up, jumping to Connor’s defense. 

“I don’t want to hear it!” Larry shouts. “This was so incredibly irresponsible! Do you have any idea how terrifying it is to wake up to find that your child isn’t where he should be? Why would you do this? What is  _ wrong  _ with you?”

Connor’s hair is in his face and his eyes are trained on his shoes and his arms are wrapped around his middle but Larry sees his shoulders buckle. 

“Evan, are you okay?” 

Larry didn’t even hear Heidi arrive. 

He looks terrified but stutters out a yes and then Heidi is grabbing him in a tight hug, pulling Evan to her and keeping him there for a long moment. 

Meanwhile, Connor is sniffling and not looking at Larry. 

Larry is again struck by how much  _ better  _ Heidi is at all of this. 

“Okay,” Heidi says in this very calm voice. She unlocks the sliding door. “Evan, come inside with me, sweetheart. We’ll make some coffee for everyone. Larry and Connor can join us in a minute.”

They head inside and close the door. 

“I’m sorry,” Connor says helplessly. When he looks up at Larry he can see tears streaking down Connor’s thin face. “I didn’t mean to, I'm so sorry…”

Larry is not finished being angry. Not even close. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Connor shrugs helplessly. “We weren’t we just… I’m  _ sorry,  _ I swear, it was an accident.”

“How can you be this stupid? Why the hell would you even come here Connor? Why wouldn’t you come straight home?”

“I- I…” Connor’s still crying. “I fucked up okay? I fucked up I’m sorry I’m so sorry I fucked up.”

“I thought you were  _ dead,”  _ Larry goes on. “When you weren’t in your bed this morning. I mean. Nothing. No call or text, your car was gone. With everything else going on with you, I thought you were… I thought you might have…”

Connor shakes his head. “No. I’m sorry it’s not. It wasn’t. I’m so sorry.”

“Are you sleeping with him?” He demands, something primal and animalistic taking hold in Larry’s chest. 

“What? No!” Connor says. “It’s not like that. We’re friends we’re just-”

“Because I won’t allow this to become another Miguel situation. Getting involved with some lowlife who’s just going to use you. Just going to get you into trouble when you inevitably have to bail him out? I won’t stand for it.”

“It’s not like that!” Connor says fiercely. “It’s not!”

Larry ignores him because he has no intention of just taking what Connor says at face value. “I hope you at least used a condom because god only knows what strains of AIDS are running rampant through Chino and the juvenile detention facilities-”

Connor’s fight seems to go out of him. His head is bowed again. He sniffles pitifully. He says nothing. Just stares at his shoes and holds onto himself tightly. 

Like he did when Cynthia screamed at him at Zoe’s party. Like when she hit him. 

And as suddenly as it came on, Larry’s rage ebbs. Like the tide going back in. 

He sighs. 

“Are you alright?” He asks Connor. 

Connor nods, still not looking at him. He sniffles quietly and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, smearing around the eyeliner he’s wearing. 

It’s such a small and kid like action that Larry’s heart shatters into a million pieces. 

He reaches out and pulls Connor into a tight hug, and Connor keeps crying harder and repeating softly “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so... I really screwed up, I’m so sorry.” 

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” Larry says sternly, letting go of Connor. 

Who sniffles again, “I didn’t mean t-to I  _ swear.  _ I’m so sorry it was my fault please don’t blame Evan he didn’t do anything.”

Larry nods sternly. 

“Well, you’re obviously grounded. We can discuss the rest of the consequences for this little stunt after I get home tonight.”

Connor nods. He has makeup smeared down his face. 

“Let’s go inside. Get some coffee,” Larry says. “And you should go wash your face.”

* * *

Heidi doesn’t notice straight away. She showers and gets dressed for work and knocks on Evan’s door, making sure he hasn’t overslept but heads downstairs to make coffee before actually going to check Evan’s room. 

Evan’s not in it. 

For a moment, she thinks she’s going to pass out. Her heart is pounding and her whole body feels cold. 

Fuck. 

Fuck.

Fuck. 

She rushes back to her room to grab her phone, and she’s about to make a call when it rings. She answers it immediately. 

“Hello?”

“Heidi,” says Larry, sounding completely panicked. “Is Evan there?”

“No,” Heidi says, even more freaked out now. “Is Connor?”

“No,” Larry replies, his voice shaking a little. “His car’s not here, he’s not answering his phone. The last I heard from him was when the concert was starting, he texted me to tell me they were having fun but I don’t know where he is, I-”

“Could they have gone to school early?” Heidi interrupts, her hands shaking. “And just forgot to tell us?”

“He’s not answering his phone,” Larry says again, and he sounds absolutely terrified. “What do I do? Do I start calling hospitals? Did something happen on the drive home last night? Did they even make it out of Long Beach?”

“I don’t know,” Heidi replies helplessly. “I don’t know, last I heard from Evan was when they grabbed dinner before the show.”

“I didn’t wait up,” Larry says, his voice increasingly tight with fear. “Why didn’t I wait up? We let them go to a concert on a school night, one of us should have waited up-”

“The beach house,” Heidi says suddenly. “Maybe… maybe they’re there? Evan likes it there, likes that it’s quiet, maybe they were too tired to finish the drive?”

“It’s three minutes away,” Larry argues, sounding frustrated, but a little less scared. Only a little. “Do you think they could be there?”

“I think it’s worth us checking,” Heidi says. “Before we freak out completely.”

“I’ll meet you there,” says Larry, and he hangs up before Heidi can say anything else. 

She still doesn’t have her shoes on, so she puts them on in a hurry, then goes into Evan’s room and grabs his school bag, just in case. She’s hoping like anything that they’re there, that they just stopped at the beach house to chill out after the concert and fell asleep, because the alternative is just… 

Not acceptable. 

Too fucking terrifying for words. 

Fuck. 

Heidi makes sure she’s got everything she needs for work, then makes a hasty exit, driving down the driveway and out of the gated community to make the short drive to the beach house. Her hands are shaking a little, her heart beating too fast, and she’s so scared. 

She’s so damn scared. 

What if they didn’t make it back from Long Beach? What if they were in a car crash, or something happened at the concert? 

They could both be dead in a ditch right now. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, why didn’t she wait up? 

When she approaches the beach, she spots two cars parked near the house. One of them is Larry’s, the other she recognizes as Connor’s, which… 

Thank god.

Thank god, they’re safe. 

She parks next to Larry’s car, feeling the worry and terror start to turn into annoyance. She’s going to have to have a serious talk with both of them about being more responsible, fucking hell. Heidi gets out of the car and heads toward the house. 

It doesn’t take long before she can hear Larry yelling. 

Screaming. 

Just… completely going off at Connor, in a way she hasn’t heard him do since before David died. 

Fuck. 

It used to be a pretty common occurrence, Connor and Larry having screaming matches. The cops came once after someone filed a noise complaint, which Cynthia complained to David about at length, even though she never outright accused Heidi of making the call to her face. Heidi remembers finding it incredibly awkward to listen to then, and it’s even worse now. 

She gets closer, carefully navigating the sand in high heels, and sees Evan standing next to Connor on the porch, his face pale. He’s in a t-shirt that must be one of Connor’s and his hair is different from how it was when Heidi saw him last. Kind of punk. 

Connor’s hair has been straightened and he’s wearing eyeliner again and he looks absolutely fucking devastated, his shoulders hunched, his head hung, and it takes a moment for Heidi to realize that he looks dangerously close to tears. 

Larry’s still going. 

“... incredibly irresponsible! Do you have any idea how terrifying it is to wake up to find that your child isn’t where he should be? Why would you do this? What is  _ wrong  _ with you?”

“Evan, are you okay?” Heidi demands, looking straight at Evan. Evan’s eyes widen and his shoulders tense and he manages to choke out a stammered yes before Heidi climbs the steps up to the porch and pulls him into a tight hug, refusing to let go for what feels like a very long time. 

Larry’s stopped yelling. 

When Heidi finally pulls away from Evan, she sees Larry looking at both of them, this pained expression on his face. Connor’s got his arms wrapped around himself and he’s looking at the ground, his hair falling in front of his face. 

Heidi hears Connor sniffling.

Her whole chest aches. 

“Okay,” she says, trying to stay calm. She pulls out her keys, then unlocks the sliding door. “Evan, come inside with me, sweetheart. We’ll make some coffee for everyone. Larry and Connor can join us in a minute.”

Evan looks at Connor, his mouth opening a little like he’s going to argue, but then he nods and follows Heidi inside, looking at Connor intently the whole time. Heidi slides the door shut gently, then puts her hand on Evan’s back and leads him through into the kitchen. 

Evan sinks into a seat at the kitchen island, his shoulders slumped. 

Heidi doesn’t sit. She’d like to keep the high ground for this one. 

“You’re s-sending me back to Chino,” he says, his voice so small. “I get it. I f-fucked up, I understand-”

“I’m not sending you anywhere,” Heidi interrupts firmly. “Okay? That’s not how this works. I’m not sending you anywhere. You live with me now, okay? I’m your guardian and as long as Child Services are happy that you’re safe with me, you’re staying.” 

Evan looks at her, his expression guarded. “Okay.”

“So you can’t do dumb shit like this,” Heidi continues, her voice shaking a little. “Okay, Evan? You can’t do dumb shit like stay out all night.”

“I know,” Evan whispers. “It was an-an accident? We-we fell asleep.”

“What were you even  _ doing  _ here?” Heidi asks. “You should have come straight home.”

Evan hangs his head. “I know,” he whispers. “It w-was st-stupid, I’m s-sorry.”

Heidi sits down across from Evan. Reaches out and takes his hand. “Evan, honey,” she says softly. “You and I… it’s shaky ground, okay?”

Evan looks up at her, his expression cautious. He looks like a kicked puppy. 

“I mean, me keeping you,” Heidi clarifies. “We’re on shaky ground. It’s unusual, what I did, taking you in, and given that you’ve got a record… they’re not gonna cut us any slack. The social workers do random visits. What if they’d come this morning? We have to be so, so careful. It’s not fair that we have to be so careful, but it’s the reality of our situation here.” She squeezes his hand tightly. Chooses her next words carefully. “If anything happened and they took you away from me, it would break my heart.” 

Evan looks at her, his eyes a little glassy. He looks like he wants to say something. 

He doesn’t. 

“We should m-make coffee,” he says after a moment. “W-we said we would.”

“We did,” Heidi agrees, and stands up. “I can make some toast if you’re hungry.”

Evan looks around the kitchen. Sees the fruit bowl. Picks up a banana. “I’ll split this with Connor.”

Heidi nods. “Okay.” She sets about putting on a pot of coffee, then looks at her watch. “You can shower and change if you want,” she says to Evan. “There’s still time.”

Evan looks out toward the porch, then back at Heidi. He nods, then quickly heads out of the room, promising that he’ll be quick. 

Maybe five minutes later, the sliding door opens and Larry and Connor come inside. Larry has his arm around Connor’s shoulder and Connor’s quietly shaking. “Is it okay if Connor uses your bathroom?” Larry asks. 

“Evan’s in the shower downstairs, I think,” Heidi says apologetically. “But there’s a bathroom upstairs?” At that moment, she hears a door open and close. “He might be done, maybe go check?”

Connor nods, then heads out to the hall, sniffling and wiping his face. 

Larry watches him as he goes, then lets out this shaky sigh. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, walking into the kitchen. “Just… fuck.”

“They’re okay,” Heidi says firmly. “They’re both okay, they’re just stupid teenagers-”

“I thought he was dead,” Larry says dully. He won’t look at her. “When I couldn’t find him this morning… a part of me was  _ convinced  _ he was dead.”

Heidi’s heart twists painfully. “He’s not,” she tells him. “He’s not, Larry.”

Larry blinks. His eyes are dangerously glassy. “If I lost my kid,” he says, his voice shaky, “I’m not sure I’d survive it.”

Heidi swallows hard. Her eyes are stinging. 

She doesn’t say it, but she thinks she knows exactly what he means.

Her chest feels hollow. There’s this awful, haunting ache inside her, as the reality of the situation dawns upon her. 

Larry is the only other adult who knows that Evan isn’t her nephew. That he’s a kid with a record from Chino who Heidi has taken in. Larry knows that Evan’s not who he’s pretending to be, not who they’re all pretending he is, and that means...

Heidi has known Larry for years. She knows how cutthroat he can be. 

If he wants Evan gone to keep Connor out of trouble, there’s nothing she can do about it. He’ll make a case and he’ll win. Larry could pick up the phone and get Evan taken away from her right now if he wanted. There’s nothing stopping him. 

There’s a part of her that says he wouldn’t do that to her. Wouldn’t do that to Evan. The part of her that still kind of thinks of Larry as a fellow outsider, of the big brother she never had, the person who helped her navigate her way through the dangerous waters of Newport Beach’s social circle. 

But Larry’s not her big brother. Larry was a colleague. He was friends with David. And when David died?

When David died, Larry wasn’t there. Cynthia went off the deep end, got all paranoid about Heidi, convinced herself that it was Heidi’s fault somehow, but Larry?

He wasn’t there. Like she hadn’t mattered at all. 

Heidi knows Larry had a lot going on, with Cynthia and Connor. And she can’t blame him for wanting to focus on his family first. 

It’s just…

Stupidly, she thought she counted as family. 

David always said Larry and Cynthia were family. 

Heidi swallows. Steadies her shoulders. 

This is no time for her to be feeling sorry for herself. 

“I know you’re angry,” she says to Larry, trying to keep her voice even. “That you want to protect your kid. I get that. Just… can you wait? To get all the facts, for everyone to calm down a little?” Larry just looks at her, frowning deeply like he’s confused. “Before you call Child Services. Please just give them a chance to explain?”

* * *

Larry feels a little like he’s been punched. Why would… why would Heidi  _ think  _ that about him? Sure he’s pissed off and sure he’s not wild about this Evan kid coming into the picture and suddenly his kid is out all night again but… he’s not going to try to get him sent away just because he’s angry. 

Jesus, he’s not that heartless. He knows that kid came from an awful situation. He wouldn’t send him back just to keep Connor safe. 

He’d send his own kid away first. Because at least he would know Connor was safe. 

Larry knows there’s a lot of things he can’t control when Connor is out of his sight, but he knows if it came down to it, he could at the very least ensure his son had adequate shelter and food and necessities. 

Heidi has no such luxury. 

And she looks near tears. 

“Heidi… I’m not going to call Child Services,” Larry says gently. 

Heidi doesn’t seem to have heard him. 

“It was probably just a stupid mistake. They’re dumb and young and… I know you want to look out for Connor but they’re both safe? Nothing has happened as far as I can tell so please, just give me a few hours to sort all of this out-”

“Heidi,” Larry says firmly. “I’m not going to call Child Services. What do you think of me? I won’t let them take your kid away.”

Heidi gives him this tremulous look. 

Larry rubs a hand over his face. “This was… this was bad,” he says. “But not…. I think the punishment should fit the crime don’t you?”

Heidi nods mutely. 

He sighs. “Connor’s grounded. Obviously.”

“Evan too,” Heidi says, something hard in her tone. 

“Well then that’s. That’s probably… it.” Larry shakes his head. “I mean obviously Connor’s going to get the lecture of his life-”

“Now that you’ve finished screaming at him,” Heidi says quietly. 

Larry feels that like a knife to the gut. “I… Heidi this was  _ stupid  _ and we both know it wasn’t  _ Evan’s _ idea.”

“No,” Heidi says coldly. “We don’t. I think we need to talk to them.”

“Heidi. Come on,” Larry says, almost laughing. “You‘ve known Connor his  _ whole _ life. You know how he can be.”

“I also know that screaming at him until he cries hasn’t exactly been the most effective strategy over the years,” Heidi says, her voice maddeningly even. 

Larry feels appropriately cowed. “I… shit.”

“I know you were scared, but Jesus Larry. I think the whole of Newport Beach might have heard that.”

“I thought he was dead,” Larry says again. “That’s immediately where my mind jumped to. That he was dead. He scared the hell out of me.”

“So you need to scare him back?”

He hates to admit that Heidi has a point. 

“Fuck,” he says. He doesn’t know what else to even say. 

“Want some coffee?” Heidi says. 

Larry nods. He pulls his phone out to text his assistant that he won’t be in until late. Heidi gives him a cup of coffee and Larry tries to consider how to say the thing nagging at him. “When I got here…” he says carefully. “The boys were. Sort of all over each other. They were asleep on each other.”

Heidi looks surprised but not shocked or disgusted. 

“Do you think that they’re… dating?” Larry says awkwardly. “Do we need to talk to them about, like, condoms and whatever?”

Heidi laughs. She actually laughs like he’s making a joke. “Come on Larry _.” _

So Heidi doesn’t know. 

Larry sighs. Has a sip of coffee. “Connor’s gay, Heidi.”

Her smile fades. “What?”

Larry nods. “He’s gay. The kid who got him into trouble at Hanover? He was Connor’s boyfriend, I think.”

“He… but.” Heidi blinks a few times. “I let him sleep in Evan’s  _ room _ .” 

Larry feels anger flare inside of him. Heidi Herzberg is not allowed to start spouting homophobia about his kid. He won’t stand for it. 

“No that’s… No. Not that I have an issue with… With Connor. Just. It’s just. Evan likes  _ Zoe _ .”

Larry blinks in surprise. “He does?”

“Oh yeah,” Heidi says with a nod. “She asked him to be her escort to cotillion.”

“Oh,” Larry says, feeling like his head is underwater somehow. “ _ Oh. _ ” 

Somehow he feels like Connor won’t be a huge fan of this information. 

“They’re not together,” Heidi says, almost like Larry is stupid to have suggested it. “They’re just… lonely I think.”

Larry nods. That’s… that’s probably it. He’s jumping to conclusions. 

“You’re probably right,” he admits. He sips his coffee again. “I’ll. I’m going to apologize. To Connor. For yelling. I… you’re right. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Heidi nods. “But they’re absolutely grounded,” she says. “No backing out on that one.”

“Agreed.”

* * *

Evan’s always been someone who showers quickly and efficiently, but today it’s a little bit harder to focus because his mind is just… everywhere. 

Why the fuck did he suggest stopping at the beach house? It had been nearly midnight by then, why didn’t he insist they go straight home? 

He knows why. Because he hadn’t wanted the night to end. He didn't want to stop seeing Connor so happy. 

And now he might have fucking ruined that forever, because Connor’s dad just chewed him out in a way Evan’s never seen anyone do without it being accompanied by a punch or a kick or a slap. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, he and Heidi left Connor and Larry on the porch, what if  _ Larry’s  _ hurting him?

No, he tries to tell himself. If Heidi thought that would happen, she wouldn’t have left them alone. 

She wouldn’t. 

Right? 

He washes his hair and his body and his face and tries to wake himself up, tries to make sure he’s properly alert and steady because Connor looked so devastated, so upset and small and young and Evan hates it, hates it so much, so he’s got to be the strong one here. 

He’s got to be steady for Connor. Not let his own fears show. 

Because even though Heidi said she wouldn’t send him away, the voice in Evan’s head is screaming that she’s lying. 

Screaming as loud as it can. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

Evan turns off the shower. Gets out, wraps a towel around himself then looks at the pile of clothes he picked up to change into from his room. 

He didn’t get fresh underwear. 

Stupid. 

He wraps the towel around himself tighter, then heads to his bedroom to grab underwear. He’s heading back to the bathroom when Connor appears in the hallway, his face pale and streaked with tears and eyeliner. 

Evan’s heart clenches painfully. 

“Hey,” he says, moving toward his friend. “You okay?”

Connor shakes his head. 

Evan makes a snap decision. He puts his arm around Connor’s shoulder, then escorts him into the bathroom. Closes the door. 

Connor starts crying again the minute the door closes, and Evan doesn’t even hesitate before reaching out and pulling his friend into a hug. And yeah, it’s pretty gay that he’s still in a towel, fresh out of the shower, but who the fuck cares right now, that’s not what’s important. 

What’s important is that last night Connor was happy, and now he’s crying, and Evan hates this so fucking much. 

“I fucked up,” Connor manages to choke out. “Why do I always fuck things up? Every time, every fucking time I fuck it all up.”

“This isn’t on you,” Evan insists. “I was the one who suggested we st-stop at the beach house. That was stupid.”

Connor freezes. Evan can feel his whole body go tense. 

“No,” Connor says, something urgent in his voice. “No no no, you can’t tell them that. We tell them it’s my fault. If they send me off again it’s not as bad, it’s okay, I can take it.” He pulls away a little. Looks at Evan urgently. “You  _ have  _ to tell them it was my idea, okay?”

“I’m n-not doing that,” Evan says firmly. “I’m not lying to Heidi.”

“It’s not a lie,” Connor insists. “This is my fault, I should have insisted we go straight home, I’m such an asshole. I was the one who said I didn’t want to go home yet-”

“We both fucked up,” Evan tells him bluntly. “Okay? I’m n-not letting you take the fall for this.” 

Connor blinks. Wipes his face with the back of his hand, leaving streaks of eyeliner behind. He looks so tired. “Worst case scenario for me, I get sent to New Hampshire,” he says shakily. “Worst case scenario for you? Foster care. I can’t let that happen to you.”

A part of Evan just wants to shake Connor’s shoulders and tell him to stop being so fucking stupid and self-sacrificing. 

But his dad just yelled at him.

Really fucking yelled at him. 

It’s not going to help if he yells, too. 

“Connor,” he says, trying to keep his voice even and confident. Working as hard as he can to keep his voice from shaking, to keep his stutter from coming to the party and making him sound freaked out. “I love that you want to help. I think it’s… so wonderful? But I’m… not going to lie to Heidi.” He pauses. “She’s not going to send me away.”

Connor sniffs. Looks at him, his eyes pleading. “You don’t know that.”

“Not for sure,” Evan says quietly. “But she said she wouldn’t. And Heidi… has never let me down. I trust her.” He looks at Connor carefully. “So trust  _ me, _ okay?”

* * *

Connor’s brain just won’t work. He knows he should argue against Evan, he knows he should insist that Evan is being stupid and noble and brave and he shouldn’t be he doesn’t have to be Connor will take care of it but he can’t because a fresh wave of tears overcomes him. 

Stupid. Irresponsible. 

His dad blames Evan. His dad probably hates him. He fucks up everything he fucks up everything every single time he fucks it all up. 

Evan pulls Connor into another hug and Connor can’t even deal with the fact that Evan’s only wearing a towel, he’s literally naked right now, naked and pressed against Connor and this morning he woke up with Evan’s head on his chest and then his dad started yelling and. 

Fuck his dad hasn’t yelled like that since… since he decided Connor needed to go away to boarding school. 

Connor doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, why he can’t just take it like a fucking man instead of crying like a little girl but he just didn’t expect it right away and he knows this is his fault he can’t even deny that it’s all his fault and he just can’t stop crying. 

He can’t stop fucking crying. 

“It’s g-gonna be alright,” Evan says, his voice close to Connor’s ear, and Connor can breathe in the smell of his shampoo and his face is pressed into Evan’s bare neck which is connected to his bare chest and they are so close but Connor can hardly breathe, he can’t focus or think or -

He shoves Evan away frantically. 

Evan looks hurt and Connor says, “I’m going to be sick” seconds before he’s leaning over the toilet and throwing up. 

It’s disgusting. 

He’s disgusting. 

But Evan… Evan kneels down beside him and pulls Connor’s hair out of his face while he gets sick, and he rubs Connor’s back and says it’s okay and Connor’s so tired that part of him wishes Evan would just leave so he could choke on his vomit and die already. 

Connor reaches out a shaky hand to flush the toilet. 

“You… D-do you feel any better?” Evan asks him. 

Connor shakes his head. Pulls his knees to his chest and sits there with his arms wrapped around them because he’s not convinced he can stand or that he won’t throw up again. 

“Heid’s not going to send me away,” Evan says, his voice smooth and even. “It’s… it’ll be okay. I…” He bites his lip for a second. “I w-won’t let them throw you out, okay? I’ll… Heidi w-w-won’t let them.”

Connor thinks Evan is absolutely full of shit but he doesn’t say anything. 

Partly because the reality of the whole situation is just hitting him in waves. He’s puking and crying and Evan is fucking naked and they’re both in huge trouble because they accidentally took a nap on the wrong couch. 

Connor starts to laugh, this sort of hysterical and humorless laugh. And he’s still fucking crying.

Evan’s face twists strangely. “Wh-what’s funny?”

“You’re fucking naked,” Connor manages to get out, still laughing, laughing so much his ribs hurt. 

“I didn’t want t-to leave you alone,” Evan says. “Hang on, can y-you like… Close your eyes?”

Connor nods. Puts his hands over his eyes and keeps laughing, keeps crying, his whole body is shaking and his mind is like totally detached and his dad is absolutely done with him now, he’s absolutely finished with him and it’s all because Connor just… 

He hadn’t wanted last night to end. 

It had been so good. Better than any night Connor had had… ever. 

Evan was laughing and smiling and singing along in the car and at the show. The pair of them holding hands as they left the venue, the rush of being part of that crowd. The way Evan talked animatedly about the band, how he had researched them because he cares he cares about Connor he cares so damn much. 

And now Connor’s ruined it. 

“Okay,” Evan says, “I’m dr-dressed now.”

His hair is still wet and sticking to his forehead but Evan is wearing jeans and a t-shirt now, and he sits on the floor beside Connor, so close his knee is resting against Connor’s shin. “Do you need to be sick again?” He asks Connor softly. 

Connor shrugs because he’s not sure. His stomach is in knots and his throat burns. “I can’t… I can’t do anything right,” He says quietly, “And I can’t be the reason you have to go, I just can’t.” 

Evan puts his hands on Connor’s shoulders, getting sort of close to his face even though Connor is disgusting and snotty and just threw up. “Trust me,” He says, his voice firm. “You won’t be.”

Connor takes a few shuddery breaths and his guts totally protest and he’s leaning over the toilet again while Evan holds back his hair and rubs his back and Connor thinks, stupidly, how nice it is to have someone looking out for him when he’s sick like this. 

When he finishes puking, Connor shakily gets to his feet. He rinses out his mouth with water. Then he grabs the bar of soap by the sink and starts angrily scrubbing at his face, trying to erase the evidence of his eyeliner and his tears. He rinses his face with ice-cold water a few times, feeling slightly more like a person. 

Connor shivers. 

And Evan grabs him into another hug. 

He doesn’t know what to do but hug him back. He doesn’t know why suddenly Evan is this tactile with him but he can’t resist it. He's too tired, he's too worn down he’s too certain that everything is ruined. 

“I won’t let them take you,” Connor promises, his mouth pressed against Evan’s shoulder. “I won’t, I won’t let them -”

“I won’t either,” Evan says, holding on tighter, just for a second and then letting go. His hands settle on Connor’s shoulders. “I won’t.”

* * *

Evan and Connor come back into the kitchen together. Evan’s hair is wet, Connor’s face is clean and they’re standing together, side by side, like they’re trying to present a united front. 

“Have a seat, boys,” says Heidi, gesturing to the kitchen island. They look at each other, then both sink into chairs, and Larry and Heidi sit down, too. 

She looks at all three of them in turn. Larry, who looks tired and old and scared. Evan, who is holding his shoulders steady, his jaw set determinedly. And Connor, who’s holding his arms around his middle tightly. 

“Okay,” she says calmly. “So. I think we can all agree that staying out all night was pretty stupid.”

Evan and Connor both nod, making small noises of agreement. 

She looks at Larry, who swallows visibly, then back to the boys. “You scared the hell out of us,” she says. “Larry and I were both so, so scared.” She looks at Larry and tilts her head a little, hoping he’ll get the hint that she’s not about to apologize on his behalf. 

That’s his job. 

“We were,” says Larry, his voice shaking a little. “And I overreacted, because I was scared.” He looks at Connor, something a little desperate in his expression. “I am so sorry for yelling at you like that, bud, I was just… so scared. All I could think about was the worst-case scenarios, I was terrified that you were…”

He swallows visibly again. 

Evan is looking between Larry and Connor with wide eyes and a concerned expression. 

Connor is blinking rapidly, looking like he’s trying very hard not to cry. 

Heidi pushes a box of Kleenex toward him wordlessly. 

“I’m sorry,” Larry finishes, his voice quiet and pained. “I shouldn’t have yelled the way I did.”

“I deserved it,” Connor says, his voice small. “I fucked up.”

“You both fucked up,” Heidi says calmly. “No doubt about it. But I need to know that you both understand why you staying out all night scared us so much.” 

Connor won’t look at her. 

Evan does. He blinks a few times, his expression guarded. 

“Because you actually g-give a shit,” he says after a moment, his voice quiet. “That’s why you were scared. People d-don’t get scared when they don’t care.”

Larry’s eyes widen a little. He looks at Evan with this strange expression, like he’s seeing him for the first time. 

Heidi’s chest aches. 

“Exactly,” says Heidi. She looks from Evan to Connor, who’s still looking down. “Connor, sweetheart, Evan’s exactly right. We care. We want you two safe.” She chooses her next words carefully. “Especially since both of you have been in situations that haven’t been safe.” 

Connor’s head snaps up. He looks at Heidi, then at his dad, his cheeks coloring. 

Larry swallows. He looks at Connor intently. “I’m scared for you all the time,” he says, and there’s something about how the words rush out that makes Heidi think that he’s been sitting on this for a while. “I’m just… constantly scared for you, with everything you’ve been through. Everything that’s happened. And a lot of it is stuff you can’t control. But this? You  _ can  _ control this.” He pauses for a moment. Looks between Connor and Evan. “So tell us what happened.”

Evan looks at Connor, whose eyes are big and scared. Then he looks at Larry. “The show was awesome,” he says, his voice small. “And w-we k-kinda… g-got caught up in the excitement, I guess?” Heidi nods, trying to encourage him to keep talking. “And-and-and we j-just wanted to, like… we g-got gelato and c-came to eat it here and sat on the porch and we… we fell asleep. It wasn’t… we-we-we didn’t mean to be out all night.”

“It was my idea,” Connor says suddenly. “To get gelato.”

Evan looks irritated. “And it was m-my idea to eat it here,” he says stubbornly. 

“Okay,” Heidi says, looking at Larry a little apprehensively. “So we can safely say that it was a joint decision.”

Larry looks… a little ashamed. A little hurt. Heidi can’t quite figure it out. 

She doesn’t know if she really cares about Larry Murphy’s feelings right now, to be perfectly honest. She just… needs him not to call Child Services. 

“Thank you for being honest with us,” she continues, trying to keep her voice calm. “So here’s how we’re dealing with this. You’re both grounded until further notice.” She pauses. “With the exception of cotillion. It’s not fair to punish Zoe for the two of you making a mistake.”

Connor looks at Heidi, clearly confused. “Cotillion?”

It dawns on Heidi then that Evan hasn’t told Connor about Zoe asking him to be her escort. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, this is… probably not the best time to find that piece of information out. 

Evan’s face goes pale. “Z-Zoe asked me to-to be her escort?” he says, his voice shaking. “For cotillion? I-I w-was g-going to t-talk to you about it. A-after the concert?”

“She did?” Connor asks, and he looks… 

Kind of crushed. 

Heidi’s chest aches a little at how crushed he looks. 

She didn’t know. She didn’t have any idea that Connor was gay, she’d never even considered it as a possibility. She’s still kind of reeling from that piece of information. 

And the look on Connor’s face…

Fuck. 

Does Connor have a crush on Evan? Is that what’s happening here?

Dammit.  _ Dammit.  _

That’s…

Heidi’s not going to lie. She wasn’t expecting that. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, it’s just… not something she’d considered. Especially not with Evan. 

It’s pretty clear to her that Evan’s interested in Zoe. But this friendship with Connor is… intense. The two of them connected almost instantly, and they’re definitely close. Really close. 

Heidi thinks back to the two of them cuddling after Zoe’s party. 

Teenage boys aren’t usually that affectionate with each other. Right?  _ Should  _ she be worried?

Evan looks at Connor, his face so sad, and Heidi’s heart twists a little. Aches for the both of them. 

They clearly really, really care about each other. You’d have to be blind not to see it. 

And Connor’s gay. 

But Evan’s not. 

She just hopes they can keep being friends. Hopes they don’t let this come between them, especially with Zoe seeming to return Evan’s interest. 

Evan looks at Heidi a little desperately. “If Connor doesn’t w-want me to go to cotillion, I w-won’t,” he says quickly. “I-I-I d-didn’t say yes to Zoe yet.”

Connor looks at Larry, his eyes a little dull. “I’m gonna have to go, aren’t I?” 

Larry hesitates for a moment, then nods. “It’s your sister’s debut. Your mom isn’t going to let you skip it, no matter how grounded you are.”

Connor looks at the table. Doesn’t look at Evan. “Cotillion would suck less if you were there,” he mumbles. “And at least you’ll be  _ nice  _ to Zoe. Respectful and sh... and stuff.”

“I will,” says Evan, his voice quiet. 

“Alright,” says Larry, sounding weary. “Grounded until further notice, except for cotillion.” He rubs his face. “We need to get you guys to school.”

“I’ll take them to school,” Heidi volunteers. “And I’ll pick them up after school, too.” She looks both boys in the eye. “For the rest of the week.”

Larry nods. “Sounds fair.” 

“Connor’s car will be safe here,” she says. “We can organize getting it back to the house later tonight.”

Connor nods. His face is still down, his hair over his face. He’s not looking at any of them. 

He’s not looking at Evan.

Heidi really, really hopes she hasn’t just made everything worse. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Lying Is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off " by Panic! at the Disco.  
> Fic title is from "Camisado" by Panic! at the Disco.
> 
> Find us on Tumblr if you wanna shout things at us...  
> Tess: ch-ch-ch-ch-cherrybomb.tumblr.com  
> Rose: vinegar-and-glitter-fic.tumblr.com


	21. Promise Me She's Not Your World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shopping for formal wear falls under cotillion jurisdiction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from "Andy, You're a Star" by the Killers. 
> 
> Fic title is from "Camisado" by Panic! at the Disco

Heidi has every intention of making one of Evan’s punishments no beach house. She really does. She just can’t make it stick. 

Because she likes hanging out with Evan at the beach house. Likes how he’s happy and calm when he’s looking at the ocean. 

So weekends at the beach house continue. It means he can’t see Connor all weekend, which Heidi knows he doesn’t like, but thinks is probably punishment enough. 

Honestly, grounding them isn’t really that big a deal. Neither of them really go anywhere. They only hang out with each other. 

Heidi had every intention of driving them to and from school until the grounding was over, but work got too busy, too crazy, so Connor got his car back for school, with strict instructions to go straight to school and straight home. 

She remembers being way more annoyed about being grounded when she was a kid. Raging and screaming at her parents about it. 

Evan just kind of… takes it. 

Honestly, sometimes she thinks he’s kind of enjoying the fact that Heidi’s spending more evenings at home and less at the office. 

She is, too. 

On Saturday, maybe a week and a half after the concert, they eat danishes and drink coffee on the porch looking out to the ocean and Evan tells her, his voice tentative, that Cynthia needs him to come shopping with her and Zoe to pick out a tux. 

“She wants to do it this morning,” he says, a little apologetically. “I, uh, should have said something earlier, sorry.” 

Heidi raises her eyebrows at him. “You wanted me to get you out of it, didn’t you?”

Evan smiles sheepishly. “A little bit, yeah.”

“Sorry kiddo,” she says with a grin. “You signed up for this cotillion thing. That means you’ve got to deal with all the gory details.” 

Evan shrugs a little. Looks at Evan. “Is it, uh, is it okay if you drop me off? I d-don’t really know the buses around here.”

“Of course,” says Heidi immediately. Evan looks a little relieved, but still nervous as all hell. She makes a snap decision. “You know what? I think I’ll come along, too.”

Evan’s eyes widen. “Really?”

“Sure,” she says, as casually as she can manage. “I need to get a new outfit for this shindig, anyway.”

Evan frowns. “I thought you-you and Mrs. Murphy didn’t get along?” 

“We do not,” Heidi admits. “But she does have very good taste in formalwear.” She smiles at Evan. “And having to deal with Cynthia Murphy unsupervised is cruel and unusual punishment, no matter how grounded you are.”

Evan gives her this small, relieved smile. “Okay,” he says. “Thank you.”

When they get to the boutique, Connor and Cynthia are already there. Cynthia’s on her phone. She looks surprised to see Heidi and more than a little annoyed. 

Good, Heidi thinks to herself. 

“It’s very nice of you to drop Evan off,” says Cynthia in this fake-sweet tone, “but you don’t need to stay. I’m sure we’ve got this.”

“I’ve got time,” says Heidi easily. “And I thought that once we’re done here, you could help me find something to wear. The Newport ladies will have my head if I repeat an outfit.”

Cynthia looks at her. Sniffs a little. “Well,” she says, a little snidely. “You always look better if you don’t style yourself.” She gives her this condescending smile. “Honestly, you’d think that after nearly 20 years living here, you’d have a better idea of what’s required in society.”

“I’ve been a little busy with my law career,” Heidi says sweetly. “Not all of us have the luxury of worrying about fashion all day every day.”

“It shows,” Cynthia replies. She looks at Evan critically. “Right. Well, Zoe’s running late, but come on in. God knows we’ll need extra time to get  _ you  _ up to scratch.”

Connor looks extremely irritated, like he’s about to say something in Evan’s defense. Evan catches his eye and shakes his head, a silent plea to pick his battles. 

It works. Connor doesn’t say anything. Just pulls out his phone and starts texting. 

Moments later, Evan pulls his phone out of his pocket. Raises his eyebrows. Looks at Connor and rolls his eyes.

Connor nods to Evan’s phone and gives him this big grin that makes Heidi think of what he looked like when he was a kid. 

Evan sighs, then looks at his phone. Starts texting. 

Heidi tries very hard not to laugh. 

The consultant seems to recognize Cynthia and puts on a bright, polite smile. The guy seems to be terrified but picturing a huge commission at the same time, which is probably a sign that he has a fucking brain. 

“Cotillion,” says Cynthia immediately, gesturing to Connor and Evan. “Evan’s escorting my daughter. Connor’s a back-up escort in case any of the other debutantes have problems getting a date.”

Connor’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “I’m what?”

Cynthia clenches her jaw. “You’re a back-up,” she says curtly. “Teenagers are stupid, even ones who should know better. No doubt someone will end up without an escort at the last minute. You know how to waltz. I taught you proper manners. You’ve been at cotillions since before you could walk. You’re doing this.”

Connor glares. “I did not agree to this.”

“You don’t have a choice,” she says firmly. “I’m the head of the organizing committee. How would it look if  _ my son _ wasn’t willing to help?”

“Like he has a life,” Connor mutters under his breath. 

Cynthia actually laughs at that. “What life? You don’t do anything useful.” 

Heidi can’t help herself. “Cynthia. That’s enough.”

Cynthia rolls her eyes. “You don’t have children, Heidi. You know nothing about this.” She turns back to Connor. “You’re doing this, and that’s final. We need to get you a new tux.”

* * *

Zoe’s running late. She was meant to meet her mom at the boutique twenty minutes ago, but she lost track of time and then got caught in some traffic.

Sabrina taps her fingers on the steering wheel. “I’m really sorry again.”

“It’s fine,” Zoe says quickly, not wanting to get into it. 

Zoe stayed over at Sabrina’s last night. Her parents weren’t home and they both decided they needed a night off from planning for their debuts. They agreed to stay at Sabrina’s and watch shitty movies and covertly order pizza (both of their moms had banned pizza for various reasons). 

But they got sidetracked pretty much immediately because… they had the house to themselves. No Madison watching, no people at school to judge, and basically the second they confirmed that they were alone, the two of them retreated to Sabrina’s bedroom and tore off their clothes. 

Zoe has to admit it was a fun night. They skinny dipped in the Patels’ pool, marveling at the sudden freedom to just do whatever they wanted. They kissed a lot and touched each other a lot. In the house. In the pool. Zoe liked looking at how different Sabrina’s body was in the water. She liked her with wet hair and shiny skin. 

Zoe found herself confessing things she never had to Sabrina while they lounged around in their underwear late that night. “Okay so don’t tell anybody but… I didn’t know what eating someone out meant until last year?”

Sabrina had looked surprised. “Really?”

“Not until I read about it in health class,” Zoe said, her cheeks heating up. “When I was reading about. Fucking AIDS.”

Sabrina laughed. And Zoe laughed. 

And then things weren’t so funny. “Has anyone ever… eaten you out before?” Zoe asked Sabrina, unable to meet her eyes. 

Sabrina shook her head. 

And then Zoe was pulling her hair back into a ponytail and pulling off Sabrina’s underwear and… And then they’d woken up this morning, still half dressed, and Sabrina insisted on returning the favor because it “feels really good Zoe I think you’ll like it” and Zoe totally did like it and now she’s running late to meet her cotillion escort to pick out his tux. 

Shit. 

“I’m sorry,” Sabrina says for like the fiftieth time. “I didn’t look at the clock, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” She says again. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” 

Zoe isn’t sure she means it but she can’t get into this with Sabrina. She keeps trying to  _ talk  _ about what they’re doing but the fact is that Zoe doesn’t fucking know what they’re doing. They’re messing around. Practicing. Having fun. 

But that doesn’t mean anybody needs to talk about it. Or know about it. Or acknowledge it. 

Sabrina drops her out front of the boutique and Zoe goes to get out of the car when Sabrina says, “Wait, Zoe.” 

Zoe looks back. 

Sabrina’s cheeks are rosy. “I… I really liked that. This morning.” 

“Oh,” Zoe says, her face getting hot. 

“I just… You taste good?” Sabrina says and Zoe feels a sudden heat pulse through her, a sudden temptation to lean in and kiss Sabrina but she can’t. 

She can’t be doing that now here not now. 

“I gotta…” 

She gets out of the car as fast as she can and Sabrina drives away fast. 

Zoe takes a few deep breaths, then lets herself inside. 

Her mom is standing there talking to a consultant, and Heidi is standing nearby, interjecting occasionally. Zoe didn’t know Heidi was planning to come. 

Connor and Evan are both hanging back by a display of suits near the window. Evan’s face lights up when he sees Zoe; Connor frowns and folds his arms over his middle. 

He’s been kind of a dick to her since he and Evan managed to get themselves indefinitely grounded after staying out all night after the concert. Zoe’s… she’s not like bummed, exactly, that Connor’s back on his bullshit but she kinda feels like it’s unfair. She didn’t get him in trouble. They’d even had a nice minute or two when she fixed his hair before they went. 

But he’s been awfully cold to her since. 

At least Evan’s smiling at her. He even stands up from the bench he’s sitting on when she walks in. “Hi,” He says with a shy smile. 

“Sorry I’m late,” She says. “I overslept, like, majorly.”

“Sure looks like it,” Connor mutters from the bench where he’s got his arms still crossed against his middle. “Forget to pack a hairbrush?”

Zoe gives him a sharp look, but then ignores him. “So, Evan,” She says brightly. “What are my mom and Heidi arguing about?”

Evan shrugs. “Some s-sort of… tie debate? Bowtie versus necktie?” He smiles awkwardly. “I d-don’t care, it’s your thing. Do you care?”

Zoe tunes into the conversation that her mom and Heidi are having. Heidi’s all for a necktie, saying that bowties are “old school” and “dated,” while her mom is claiming they are “classic” and muttering that this is “a black tie event, Heidi.”

Zoe does actually agree with her mom here. She smiles at Evan and clears her throat. “I was thinking bowtie. More traditional… right?”

Both women shut up. 

Which is exactly what Zoe wanted. 

Evan leans in and stage-whispers, “Y-you gotta teach me how to do that.” He gives her a smile. “Th-they’ve been at that s-since we got here.”

Zoe smiles brightly at him and tries to surreptitiously comb out her hair with her fingers. 

Connor’s looking at his phone and generally pouting. Zoe hadn’t wanted him to come today, but their mom says he needs a new tux since he’s outgrown his old one and pointed out that it would be “silly to make two trips to the same store,” so Zoe had reluctantly given up arguing. 

Connor appears to be texting someone which makes no sense since his only friend is Evan, and Evan is right here. 

He’s so fucking weird. 

Whatever. 

Zoe doesn’t have time for whatever his baggage is right now. She turns her attention to Evan, and Heidi is asking about gloves and shoes and everything and another sales assistant asks Evan to step in front of the mirror so he can measure him. Evan looks a bit awkward, but he does as he’s told. 

“So, uh. This w-waltz?” Evan says to Zoe while his chest is being measured. “I still don’t like. Know how to do that?”

“I got us covered,” Zoe says, smiling. “Some of the other debs and their dates are doing some lessons after school this week.”

Evan frowns. “I-I’m still grounded.”

“I think this falls under cotillion jurisdiction,” Heidi chimes in with a smile. “Evan’s been given furlough for all of this stuff.”

Zoe laughs but Evan doesn’t. He looks super embarrassed. Maybe he doesn’t like legal humor? Zoe gets it because her dad makes dumb jokes like that all the time. 

It’s only then that Zoe realizes the sales associate is taking the measurements for his inseam. Boys are so weird about the most random shit. Like someone touching your inner thigh is gay. 

Zoe frowns to herself slightly, thinking back to this morning. Does someone making you shake like she did earlier make you gay?

_ No,  _ Zoe tells herself firmly. That doesn’t count. It’s just. Practice. Messing around. It’s not like… real. 

The sales associate takes down all of Evan’s measurements and scurries off to grab a few tuxedos from the store. 

“How was Sabrina’s?” Evan asks her. 

Zoe almost jumps out of her skin. “Why?” She asks. 

“You g-guys had a slumber party?” Evan says like she’s being weird and Zoe  _ is  _ being weird. She needs to cool it or she’s gonna blow this whole thing. 

“Oh yeah. It was fine. We watched some movies. Went swimming.”

Evan nods, and Zoe rolls her eyes because she knows that Evan is thinking about her in her bikini now. She could tease him about how she was skinny dipping last night, but she decides that’s too dangerous. Instead she just says, “Yeah almost totally lost my top when I jumped in the pool. Sabrina got an eyeful.”

His cheeks go red and Zoe counts it as a total win. It’s so easy to make him blush.

The sales associate sets Evan up in a dressing room and another goes and grabs Connor to do his measurements. Connor looks stupidly uncomfortable and looks almost pissed off when the guy asks him to please take off his hoodie so they can get his measurements done properly. 

Connor removes his hoodie and frowns deeper. Their mom heads over while Connor’s being measured, her mouth turned down in a deep frown. Connor is like. Really tall and  _ really  _ skinny. 

The associate looks at their mom awkwardly. “You’re probably going to get stuck with some costly alterations,” he says to her. “I don’t have anything in this small of a waist for his pant length.”

Behind them, Evan’s stepping out of his dressing room in black tux, holding onto his uncuffed sleeves cluelessly. He looks at Heidi and mutters that there’s no buttons. 

“Jesus,” their mom mutters to the salesperson. Connor’s face is pale and he looks absolutely mortified as the guy carries on about how finding pants long enough is going to mean sizing up a couple of times. The sales associate hurries off to grab Connor some options and their mother shakes her head, turning to Zoe with a look of utter disgust on her face. “Why couldn’t it have been  _ you  _ who can’t keep a meal down?” She says it loud enough for everyone to hear. 

Zoe feels her face flame. The pizza she ate last night is sitting like a rock in her stomach. Her mom had totally freaked out when she had her fitting for her gown last week. She’s wearing a size seven now and her mom thinks that’s utterly unacceptable. She basically demanded Zoe squeeze into a five by cotillion. 

Connor opens his mouth like he’s going to jump to Zoe’s defense. 

But he doesn’t. 

“Lisa Patel had the right idea with Sabrina, sending her to fat camp this summer,” Her mom goes on. “You better start watching what you eat Zoe, or we’ll have to think about that for you next summer.” 

Zoe feels her eyes prickle with shameful tears. “I’m just… I’ll just…” she hurries away like she’s going to go look at gloves but just wants to be spared her mom’s scrutiny for, like, a minute. 

From behind her, Zoe hears Heidi say, “Really nice Cynthia.”

Zoe stares at the gloves and tries super hard not to cry. A moment later, Evan is by her side, looking angry. “That’s… th-that was so  _ mean,” _ he says to Zoe. She shrugs, not looking at him. “What the fuck? Is-is fat camp a real thing?”

Zoe nods, embarrassed. She can just imagine what Madison would say if that got out. “I’m such a fucking cow.” 

“No you’re not,” Evan says, his tone serious. “You’re skinny and- and you’re beautiful and…” he shuts his mouth like he’s realized what he’s said. 

Zoe looks at him, surprised. “You think I’m beautiful?” She says, her lip quivering a little. 

Evan looks surprised. “W-well yeah. You’re… you’re the prettiest person… prettiest  _ girl  _ I know.”

* * *

Zoe looks like she might cry and Evan honestly wouldn’t blame her. 

That’s just… 

Mrs. Murphy was so  _ mean  _ to her, it’s not fair. 

_ She was mean to Connor, too,  _ a voice in his head nags him.  _ And you went and chased after Zoe. Way to be a  _ friend _ , bro. _

He tries to ignore that voice, even though he knows it has a fucking point. 

It’s just…

Evan needs to focus. Needs to focus on getting this right. Zoe asking him to cotillion is a big fucking deal and he doesn’t want to embarrass her, doesn’t want to make her regret asking. Doesn’t want to let her down in a big public setting. 

He doesn’t want to let Connor down, either. 

He just…

He needs to focus. Because Connor’s his best friend, sure, but Zoe’s the girl he likes, and as much as he thinks he should be ‘bros before hoes’ or whatever, there’s this big huge thing coming up for Zoe and he needs to focus. 

Bros before hoes. That’s fucking ridiculous. 

Calling women hoes is just… rude, anyway. 

And the idea of calling Connor ‘bro’ is completely insane. Connor’s not a ‘bro’, he’s…

He’s Connor.

His best friend. The best friend he’s ever had. 

He’d looked so fucking skinny. Fuck. Evan hasn’t been as good about making sure he eats recently. Hasn’t been checking in as much. He should be better at this, he should be looking after him properly, it’s just hard when he’s grounded and they don’t see each other after school or at weekends anymore. 

And it’s just…

It’s not like anything’s changed. Nothing’s changed, Evan’s not going to let anything change, because Connor’s his best friend and he genuinely loves spending time with him, but it’s all getting a little… blurred. 

Blurred is maybe the wrong word. 

It’s confusing. 

Evan remembers waking up basically wrapped around Connor on the loveseat on the porch. They’d been woken up by Connor’s dad, so he hadn’t exactly had a lot of time to process it, but he can’t get the feeling of those first few seconds before he figured out how screwed they were out of his head. 

It had been… nice. 

Warm. 

Safe. 

He’d had his head on Connor’s chest, and it had felt warm and solid and Connor had smelled good and Evan remembers how his half-asleep brain had just wanted to pull Connor closer, wanted to stay there a little longer, and that’s…

Evan’s not gay. 

This is all very weird and very confusing, because he  _ knows  _ he’s not gay. He  _ knows  _ he likes girls. He shouldn’t have to, like, keep reminding himself of this. 

So he’s gone after Zoe, trying to check in on her and make sure she’s okay, instead of staying with Connor because he and Zoe are… something more than friends. 

Maybe?

She flirts with him all the time. It seems like she  _ wants  _ to be more than his friend. 

She also wants to make out with Sabrina Patel in front of Brian Harris to turn him on or whatever, apparently, which…

He needs to cut her a break for that. 

Sabrina’s not fat, Evan thinks suddenly. She’s not, like, skinny the way Zoe and Connor are, but she’s not fat. She’s curvy and cute and she has, like, museum worthy boobs. 

Not that people put boobs in museums. 

Well, maybe they do in Newport Beach. This place is so goddamn weird sometimes. 

“D-did Sabrina’s mom r-really send her to fat camp?” Evan asks, genuinely curious.

Zoe’s shoulders sag. She looks genuinely upset. “I don’t know,” she admits. “I didn’t really see her over the summer? She did lose a bunch of weight, but… I don’t know, I figured maybe she just, like, grew into it or something?” She shrugs. “But I wouldn’t put it past her mom. She’s kinda… a lot.”

“Worse than your mom?” Evan finds himself asking, then immediately regretting. 

Zoe shrugs again. “I don’t know,” she says, her voice a little far away. She looks at some gloves. Doesn’t look at Evan. “What’s your mom like?”

Evan tries to control his reaction. Tries to stop himself from tensing up, from making it super obvious that the question hurts. 

He tries to figure out a way he can tell part of the truth. 

“Kind,” he says after a moment. “My mom was really kind.”

“Was?” Zoe says, her eyebrows knitting together in concern.

Evan stares at her. Blinks a few times. 

He’s frozen. He doesn’t know what to say. 

“My mom was different when I was a kid,” Zoe says after a moment, her voice barely above a whisper. “She wasn’t always like this.”

Evan thinks back to the weeks leading up to his mom’s death. How sad she’d been. How she’d barely gotten out of bed, barely been able to move, until that last day where it seemed like everything would be alright. 

“I get that,” Evan says with a nod. “I’m sorry.”

“Your mom’s like that, too?” Zoe ventures. “She changed?”

“Yeah,” Evan lies. 

Zoe looks a little relieved. Laughs a little weakly. “For a minute there, I thought I’d really put my foot in it,” she says. “I was worried that your mom was, like, dead or something.”

Evan tries to laugh. It comes out wrong. 

“No, don’t worry,” he lies, and it’s a blatant, blatant lie but it comes out without a tremor. “She’s fine. It’s just… different.” 

He feels like he’s just been stabbed in the chest, but he just keeps on smiling at Zoe. Keeps on pretending, because that’s the only way this is going to work. 

The only way he’s got a shot with Zoe is if he’s pretending.

* * *

Connor wants a cigarette. And maybe to blow up this entire formalwear boutique. He’s just standing there, freezing without his hoodie because the AC is cranked way too high in this store, while Zoe rushes off and his mom and Heidi start exchanging words. Evan follows her and Connor wants to like. Start screaming. 

“What?” His mom says, her voice all pretend innocent. “I just made a joke.”

“Yeah, no. It was funny. I’m laughing, can’t you tell?” Connor mutters. “Am I not laughing hard enough for you?”

His mother ignores him. 

He’s been trying with the food stuff. He  _ has.  _ It’s just been especially hard the last few weeks because he feels his stomach seize up every time he remembers that Evan agreed to go to fucking  _ cotillion  _ with Zoe and didn’t even  _ tell him  _ and also they can’t hang out on weekends anymore because Heidi keeps taking Evan to the beach house and Connor’s not allowed to go and now he feels like he could genuinely set this whole boutique on fire and nobody would even care why. They’d all be too worried about whether Zoe got out okay. 

That was a bitchy fucking thing to say to Zoe, Connor thinks. He should have said something to his mom about it because, like. Zoe’s already plenty skinny. She doesn’t need a fucking complex about it. Girls have it hard enough in that department without their mom being a huge asshole to Zoe. 

But Zoe asked his best friend to cotillion behind his fucking back and he’s pissed off about it and pissed off at the entire world because he’s grounded and miserable so he says nothing. Lets his sister get hurt because he’s that much of an asshole. 

Evan goes after her. Of course. Like a gentleman. 

In the mirror, Connor hates how he looks. He… fuck somehow he’s gotten even taller? His dad made him go to his regular doctor last week because it sort of hurts to walk and sit and stand and he’s officially six foot three and, apparently, really needs to consider trying to eat more so his bones don’t hurt as much. 

Which is fucking… whatever. The doctor says it’s just growing pains and says he should take some ibuprofen and eat more fatty foods. 

Like Connor can possibly afford to get anymore huge. 

He looks like total crap. 

He feels sorry for any poor girl who didn’t get herself a real date if they get stuck with him. Really nice of his mom to not even mention that she signed him up for that bullshit until literally today. Poor fucking girls. They’re all definitely going to be disappointed to learn he’s one of their potential backups. Though at least they’ll all look super tiny in comparison. 

“Here we are!” Trills the unfortunate salesman stuck with him. “I’ll have to pin the pants for you, but why don’t you try these on so we can get an idea.”

Connor thinks that’s fucking stupid. They’re all black tuxes. They’re all going to look the same. “Great,” He mutters, taking the collection out of the consultant’s hands and heading into a changing room. 

With a full length mirror in it, fuck. 

Connor tries not to look as he strips off his street clothes but he can’t help himself. The mirror is inches away. There’s no real way to avoid it. 

He… 

Fuck he looks massive. 

Sure, you can see his ribs easily, and sure his boxers are legit hanging off of him and his hip bones stick out, but his stomach is flabby and ugly and pale. His chest is like… basically concave, which is gross. His neck is like… creepily long. Like a swan’s or something. A giraffe. 

Connor can’t help himself. Once he starts he can’t stop staring. 

He’s so pale. 

If Connor looks down, he has a double chin. 

His arms are doughy and weird and there’s a pocket of fat right under his armpit. 

His hair is dull and dirty and he can’t remember the last time he washed it. 

“Connor,” His mom barks. “I want to actually  _ see  _ these please.”

He tears his eyes away and starts getting dressed. 

The pants are so huge he can’t even keep them up without holding onto them. The shirt bunches awkwardly at the armpits. The suit coat is too wide. 

He steps out of the room, holding his pants up by the waist and the consultant is immediately there with clips and pins to get them to sit right. He tucks the fabric just so and within a few minutes, the tux looks like it actually fits from the front. 

Connor’s legs look crazy long like this. 

It makes him weirdly think about Ryan Ross from Panic! at the Disco, how he was dressed during the concert, how he looked like he was made of like 80% leg. 

It’s not the worst Connor’s ever looked. 

His mom is frowning. “I don’t like it,” She says with a frown. “You should try on the Armani.” 

Connor rolls his eyes and lets the sales associate unclip and pin all of his hard work before going back into the dressing room and changing. 

His mom vetoes that one too. And the next. After the fourth, she tells him to try on something by Gucci. And Connor, in a moment of homosexuality he didn’t even know he possessed, grits his teeth and informs her that he already tried on the  _ Gucci _ . “It was the first one,” Connor says, annoyed. “And you hated it.”

“Well then try on Versace,” His mom snaps and Connor groans and waits for the salesperson to come back with Versace for him and naturally, his mother vetos that too and starts muttering that it would have been faster just to get something bespoke and Connor’s going to tear his hair right out when Heidi jumps in and gently says, “I thought the Gucci looked the nicest.” 

Connor smiles at Heidi.

“If you want my opinion,” The consultant says, even though Connor’s mom’s face suggests that she absolutely does not, “I would agree. Gucci looked the best.”

His mother gives them all withering looks. “Fine. Let me see that one again.”

Connor puts it back on. His mom agrees to it and then Connor waits around while he’s poked and pinned and then shuffles awkwardly to take the tux back off. 

He dresses quickly, and heads out of the dressing room to go sulk near the entrance while Evan figures out his tux and Heidi and his mom squabble about the dresses Heidi tries on. Zoe sort of hovers between the three of them and Connor just sits there and hates them all. 

He hates them. 

They’re all so… pleased about this thing. 

And Connor’s fucking miserable. 

He hates it. 

He’s so fucking mad at Evan and it’s not fair. Why would he say he would go cotillion with Connor’s fucking sister? Why would he agree to go with her? 

Connor knows how stupid it is for him to be jealous. Evan is straight. He doesn’t  _ like  _ Connor. He’s never going to like Connor like that. Connor’s just… what? He’s pissed because Evan sort of half cuddled him a couple of times and now he’s acting like he has any claim to him or his time?

Like what is Connor’s fucking damage seriously? 

He goes and loiters over by the exit, trying to just keep himself away from everyone before he goes off on them for no good reason. He pulls his iPod out and listens to music, skipping a bunch of Linkin Park because that reminds him of Evan and he’s fucking pissed off at Evan right now.

* * *

Evan could honestly hug Heidi at this point. 

She seems to have thrown herself into distracting Mrs. Murphy by trying on dresses. Mrs. Murphy has all sorts of opinions about them and is basically keeping up a running commentary about how Heidi could stand to lose some weight, should think about getting some work done, needs to make sure she doesn’t wear green because it does nothing for her, and so on and so forth. 

He really, really wants to speak up and tell Mrs. Murphy to leave Heidi alone, but that would defeat the point, he thinks. Heidi is clearly trying to take some of the heat off Zoe and Connor. 

Which Evan appreciates so fucking much. 

“I like this one,” says Zoe as Heidi comes out of the dressing room in this kind of gold colored dress that Evan actually quite likes as well. 

Mrs. Murphy immediately screws up her nose. “It would be alright if you were actually tan,” she says dismissively. “But you’re so pale. All those hours indoors.”

“I don’t know if I’m feeling it,” Heidi says to Zoe apologetically, basically flat out ignoring Mrs. Murphy. “I don’t know if I like the sleeves.”

“They make your arms look fat,” says Mrs. Murphy immediately. “You should really try pilates. It’ll do wonders for you.”

“I’ll be sure to slot that in between practicing law full time and actually spending time with my kid,” says Heidi dismissively. 

Mrs. Murphy’s head snaps up. “You mean your nephew?”

“Obviously,” says Heidi, sounding more than a little annoyed. Evan is hit by the realization that Heidi’s good. Really good. 

She didn’t even flinch a little bit at the slip of the tongue. 

His heart twists funnily at the idea that Heidi thinks of Evan as her kid. 

That’s…

He likes that. He likes that a lot. A whole lot. 

There’s more arguing between Heidi and Mrs. Murphy. The sales consultant comes back to Evan and tells him his suit is all ready to go, then starts talking about shoes and ties and gloves and Evan thinks his head is going to explode. 

“I think we’ve got Evan covered,” Heidi says, brushing invisible dust off the gold gown. “Connor, too.” She looks at Mrs. Murphy, and Evan can see she’s trying to smile. “But Cynthia and I might be here for a while.”

Mrs. Murphy crosses her arms in annoyance. “I’m not having you embarrass me,” she says to Heidi. It seems she’s moved from passive-aggressive to just plain rude. “This event has to be perfect.”

“It will be, Mom,” says Zoe immediately. “It was a joke last year when you weren’t involved.”

Mrs. Murphy smiles a little. “You’re absolutely right, sweetheart. That’s why it’s important to come back strong.” She turns back to Heidi. “If  _ your  _ nephew is escorting  _ my  _ daughter, people are going to look at you.” She looks her up and down critically. “I’m going to book you in for a facial. And get you an appointment at my salon. I don’t know who’s been butchering your hair but they deserve to be shot.”

Heidi looks at Zoe and smiles. “It’s Zoe’s big day,” she says in this breezy tone, like nothing Mrs. Murphy has to say about her affects her in any way. “I’m happy to help in any way I can.”

“We need to get you some shoes,” says Mrs. Murphy, still looking at Heidi like she’s trying to find a flaw. “And you desperately need a pedicure.”

Zoe’s phone rings. She answers it, then her cheeks go a little pink and she heads for the door, saying she’ll be right back. 

Evan wonders who’s calling her who’s making her blush. 

Is she, like, hanging out with some guy she likes? Why didn’t she invite  _ that  _ guy to cotillion? 

Evan tries to tell himself he’s being stupid. She’s probably not even blushing over the phone call, she’s just embarrassed about the way her mom is talking to Heidi. 

Heidi looks at Evan. Looks over at Connor, who’s hanging around by the exit, clearly just over the whole thing. She reaches for her purse and pulls out a couple of twenty dollar bills. “There’s a really good smoothie place across the road,” she says, hanging Evan the cash. “You and Connor should go grab one. We could be here for a while.” 

Mrs. Murphy looks irritated. “They’re grounded.”

“They are,” Heidi says. “But I think the last two hours trying on suits is punishment enough. They deserve a bit of a break.”

Mrs. Murphy looks like she wants to argue, but doesn’t. She sighs. “Fine.” She snaps her fingers to get the sales guy’s attention, which is… the most obnoxiously rude thing Evan’s ever seen, oh my god. 

Evan puts the money in the pocket of his jeans and heads across the store to find Connor. He’s listening to his iPod with his eyes closed, leaning against a wall, mouthing along to whatever he’s listening to.

Evan taps him on the shoulder. His eyes snap open and he looks at Evan. “What?” he asks, his tone sharp, pulling out one headphone. 

Evan flinches. “Heidi g-gave me money for smoothies?” he says weakly. “There’s, uh, there’s a pl-place across the road.”

Connor pulls out the other headphone. Hits the button on his iPod, then winds the headphones around it. Shoves the whole thing in his pocket. “Yeah, okay,” he says, and follows Evan out of the store. 

Zoe’s standing outside, still on the phone. Her face is kind of… soft, Evan notices, and she’s smiling this small subtle smile that makes his heart flip flop a little. 

When she sees Evan and Connor, she puts the phone down for a quick moment. 

“Just talking to Sabrina,” she says. “Since you’re basically done, she’s gonna come pick me up soon. I just need to get the okay from Mom.”

“O-okay,” says Evan, smiling back. “Uh, thanks for… thanks?”

“I should be thanking you,” Zoe says, and she’s still smiling. “Where are you guys off to?”

“Smoothie,” says Connor bluntly. “See you.”

With that, Connor stalks across the road, not even waiting for Evan, which is… rude. 

Evan blinks. 

“He’s in a mood,” Zoe says, rolling her eyes. “He’s been in a mood ever since he got grounded.”

“Oh,” says Evan, feeling his chest clench a little. 

Something in Zoe’s expression shifts. “Don’t worry,” she says, sounding deliberately casual. “He’ll get over it. You’re, like, the only person in the world he actually likes. He’s just being a little bitch right now.”

Evan wants to tell her not to call him that, but considering the way he’s acting right now… 

“Okay,” Evan says. He tries to smile. “Say, uh, say hi to Sabrina for me?”

Zoe’s cheeks go a little pink. 

Evan has no idea what that’s all about. 

“Okay,” she says, smiling at him. “Stay in touch, yeah? We’re going to get you waltzing next week, I promise.”

Evan nods, waves her goodbye and heads across the road to the smoothie place. Connor’s inside, scowling at the menu board.

* * *

Connor’s staring down the menu board, frowning, because he can’t fucking drink any of these. There’s like… yogurt and peanut butter and all sorts of sugar in these and his stomach hurts just looking at the ingredients. 

He just wants to go home. He just wants to sleep and hide in his fucking room and avoid everyone for eternity. 

“Hey,” Evan says, coming stand beside him and looking up at the menu. 

Connor gives him a dirty look. “Surprised you didn’t ask my sister to join us,” He mutters sulkily. “Since you two are a thing or whatever now.”

Evan’s face falls. “L-look… About cotillion…” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “I’m really sorry? I didn’t want you to f-find out like that.”

Connor rolls his eyes. “Yeah, sure, whatever,” he says, hunching his shoulders. He has a pounding headache. He sort of wants to punch Evan in the face. 

Evan looks at him, his expression serious. “Connor, honestly, I w-was going to tell you. I just… I wanted to w-wait until after the concert because I…” He trails off, biting his lip. 

“Because what? You knew I’d be annoyed that you’re, like still trying to get with my sister?” Connor says darkly. 

“Sh-she asked me,” Evan says, like he’s pleading, like he’s begging Connor to understand but Connor’s not in any fucking mood. “I didn’t… I wanted us to have a-a good time. I know stuff with-with Zoe is hard, and I… The-the concert was, like, the m-most fun I’ve had in-in-in years and I didn’t want to, like, wreck it?”

Connor crosses his arms over his middle and doesn’t respond. He just stares at the board and his vision blurs a little the longer he looks, the words kind of swimming before him, and Connor curls his toes and fights to stay upright, still frowning. “I don’t… you, like. You lied.” 

“I-I didn’t mean to,” Evan says. “I swear. I’m r-really sorry. I j-just wanted us to have a good night and-and-and then Heidi said something… I would have. I wanted to tell you myself?” He sighs. “I’m really f-fucking sorry.”

Connor shrugs listlessly. 

“And-and I’m sorry about your mom,” Evan goes on, his face concerned. “Th-the stuff she was saying…?”

“Whatever, I’m used to it,” Connor says with a shrug, unable to look at Evan. Partly because he’s just that pissed off and partly because Evan’s face is kind of swimming in front of him and if Connor looks too long he might get even dizzier…

“She w-was pretty awful to Zoe? And-and Heidi too? L-like, is she just like that?”

“Jesus will you just shut up about my fucking mom?” Connor snaps. “I know she’s a huge bitch, I already texted you like ten times but you were too busy making eyes at my sister to notice.”

Evan’s frowning, that much Connor can see. “What are you thinking of getting?” Evan asks him in this quiet voice that sounds almost… angry.

“Nothing,” Connor mutters, reaching out and gripping the counter. “I don’t want anything I’m just gonna go back to the store -”

Evan reaches out and grabs his arm. “When’s the last time you ate something?”

“Jesus, will you just lay off?” Connor snaps. 

Evan grips his arm harder, “No!” His face swims before Connor’s. “You’re k-kind of being an asshole right now and-and today has, like, really sucked so-so I need you to stop being a dickhead and-and-and  _ talk _ to me.”

Connor feels himself sway unsteadily. He feels shame flooding every pore of his body and it’s taking a lot of effort for him to not just, like, black out right here. “It’s been a few days,” He manages. “Since I ate I…”

Evan helps him into a chair and scurries off toward the counter. He returns a few minutes later with two huge smoothies, and all but commands Connor to drink it. 

He doesn’t dare disobey. 

“Look, Connor… I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you right away,” Evan says, his voice firm. “I didn’t want to just dump it on you and I’m  _ really _ sorry, but can you please stop being a pissbaby about this?”

Connor swallows a sip of his smoothie and stares down at the table awkwardly. “I’m sorry,” He mutters. “Just… I dunno. This whole thing just… fucking blows.” 

Evan nods. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even… I-I’m sorry, okay?”

“You act like a totally different person when Zoe’s around,” Connor accuses and Evan recoils like he’s been slapped and Connor knows he’s not being fair he knows why Evan’s not telling people who he really is or where he’s really from, but it still pisses him off more than he can stand. “And we’re not allowed to hang out on weekends anymore because you’re always at the beach house?” Connor says, feeling so fucking small and idiotic for saying anything, feeling so stupid but not being able to stop it, “So I just have to hear her going on and on and on about how she’s taking you and how cute you are and how excited she is and you didn’t even  _ tell _ me -”

“I know. I’m sorry. I wanted to,” Evan says softly. He lets out a sort of… frustrated sigh. “This… this wh-whole thing is, like, a lot? It’s… I sh-shouldn’t have said yes, okay? I know that now, I know, and-and I’m not even good enough for her anyways -”

“Other way around dude,” Connor interjects. “She’s not good enough for you.” 

But Evan’s not listening. “And-and I’m  _ sorry _ I didn’t tell you.” Evan rubs a hand over his face. He looks really fucking tired and Connor hates himself for adding to that. “Let’s just get through this whole stupid event, get ungrounded and go back to normal, okay?

Connor lets out a breath. 

He wants that to be true so badly that he doesn’t dare to argue. “Okay.” 

“And-and fucking drink that,” Evan says, pushing the smoothie forward. “You look like you’re gonna p-pass out.”

They sit for a while. Connor drinks his smoothie as instructed, but it’s difficult, and the texture reminds him of mucous and he has to try hard not to gag a few times. 

He still feels… raw and irritated and bothered by Evan agreeing to go out with his sister. He just. 

Evan’s supposed to be  _ his  _ friend. 

He’s supposed to be Connor’s person, but Zoe just has to bat her eyelashes and Evan goes sprinting off to do whatever it is she wants and he hates how stupidly jealous he is but he just… can’t help it. 

“You know you’re like… ten times the person Zoe is, right?” Connor finds himself saying. 

Evan shakes his head. “No I’m not.”

“Yes,” Connor insists. “You are.” He takes a sip of his smoothie and swallows it like it’s cough syrup. “She’s… she used to be, like, a really genuine person? Like. She was weird and funny and she played music. She wrote her own songs?” He shakes his head. “Now she’s… she’s just like everybody else around here. Vapid and narcissistic and… fake.”

Evan looks stricken. “She’s not.”

Connor rolls his eyes at him, “Trust me. She is. She just… does a better job of faking sincerity.”

Evan frowns at him. 

Connor sighs. “Sorry I was being a dick today,” he says finally. “My mom’s… not an excuse for me to be an asshole to you.”

Evan smiles a little miserably at him. “It’s alright.”

* * *

Heidi isn’t usually one for drinking alone but after that, she definitely feels like she needs one. 

They end up going back to the main house on Saturday night on Evan’s request. She’s a little surprised, because she knows how much Evan likes the beach house, but it makes sense when she sees how close to Connor Evan’s sticking. How shaky on his feet Connor seems to be. 

She can’t get the image of how fucking skinny Connor is underneath his hoodie out of her head. He’s just… skeletal. He was always thin, but this is something else. 

And Cynthia has the fucking audacity to say that this is something Zoe should be aspiring to. 

That is just… 

Basically child abuse, as far as Heidi sees it. Implying that your child should be starving themselves. 

So they’re back at the main house on Saturday night, and Heidi asks Larry if he minds if Connor stays over that night. 

Larry seems a little taken aback. “They’re grounded,” he reminds her. 

“I’ll be there the whole time,” Heidi says immediately. She tries to figure out how to put this. “During the suit fitting… I saw just how bad it is,” she says quietly. “How bad Connor is. I think that keeping them apart isn’t doing Connor any favors.”

Larry’s face falls. He looks at Heidi, something a little pleading in his expression. “Did Cynthia notice?”

Heidi clenches her jaw. “She did,” she says, as evenly as she can. “Made a comment about how it would have been more convenient if  _ Zoe  _ had the eating disorder.”

Larry’s face goes gray. He looks like he might be sick. 

“I’ll talk to her,” he says, his voice shaky. “That is… that is unacceptable, she can’t talk to either of them like that.”

Heidi just looks at him. 

She doesn’t want to be a bitch about this. She really doesn’t. But she doesn’t see how anything Larry says is going to help. 

Connor and Evan get settled in the living room, watching a movie on the flatscreen TV, and Heidi goes to the downstairs office that used to be David’s, because she knows he stashed the good stuff there. She’s going through some of his old hiding places, looking for the aged scotch he was always so partial to, when suddenly she stumbles across something she’s not expecting. 

She pulls out a small package, wrapped in navy paper. There’s an envelope stuck to the front, and her heart leaps into her throat when she sees her husband’s messy handwriting. 

_ Connor - on your sixteenth birthday _

Heidi genuinely has to sit down for a moment.

She sinks to the floor and stares at the package, running her fingers over the writing, over David’s handwriting, like she can someone reach him through it. 

Her eyes sting. 

Before she can stop it, she’s crying, and a thick tear falls onto the envelope, smudging the middle letters of Connor’s name. She wipes her face, puts the package to the side and just… lets herself lose it for a little while. 

Just for a few moments. 

She misses David so much. 

He’d be heartbroken if he saw how thin Connor was right now. Completely heartbroken. 

He’d loved Connor so much. 

So much. 

She wipes her face. Tries to contain her tears. 

Picks up the package and heads into the living room. 

Evan spots her first, his eyes widening in alarm. He’s on his feet in seconds. “Are you okay?” he asks, his tone a little urgent. 

“I’m okay,” she assures him. From the couch, Connor looks equally concerned. She turns to Connor and hands him the package. “I was looking for something in David’s office just now and I found this.”

Connor’s eyes go big as he looks at it, turning the package over in his hands. Evan looks on, his eyes wide, something unreadable in his expression. 

“It’s from David,” he says quietly, a little reverently. “It’s… a birthday present?”

“A late one,” Heidi jokes a little. “Sorry about that.” 

Evan’s hit pause on the movie. He’s looking from Connor to Heidi, frowning a little, like he’s worried, and Heidi’s hit with a rush of affection for him. 

“I just thought Connor should have it straight away,” Heidi says to Evan, trying to reassure him a little. “But I wasn’t expecting to find it, so… it took me by surprise, just a little.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Evan asks Heidi seriously. 

She nods. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Just had a bit of an emotion about it all.” She blinks. “I miss him.”

“I miss him too,” Connor says, his voice so quiet. He turns to Evan. “You’d have really liked David. It sucks you never got to meet him.”

“Yeah,” says Evan, frowning a little. He looks at Heidi and offers a tentative smile. “Anyone Heidi chooses to spend time with has to be, like, awesome.”

Heidi feels her eyes stinging again. “I’m sad he never got to meet you, Evan. He’d have thought you were… as amazing as I think you are. Maybe even more.” 

Connor’s got this fond expression on his face, and his eyes are a little glassy. Heidi focuses back on him. “David loved you, Connor,” she continues quietly. “He loved you so much. He just thought you were… the best, most wonderful thing. I’m sorry it took me so long to find your gift.”

“It’s not your fault,” says Connor, and he’s blinking heavily now. “I, uh… thank you.”

“I’ll let you read it in your own time,” says Heidi immediately. She smiles at them the best she can. “I’ll leave you both to it. Sorry to put a damper on the evening.”

With that, she leaves the boys in the living room and heads back to David’s office. There’s a sweater of his that’s been sitting at the back of his office chair ever since he died. Heidi’s trying to be sensible about it, trying not to wear it out, but tonight she needs to feel close to him. She puts on David’s sweater, sits in his office chair and just… sits for a while. 

If she closes her eyes, she can almost pretend he’s here. 

* * *

Evan looks at the package and then back at Connor. 

“Are you going to open it?” He says quietly. 

Part of Connor wants to say no. Say he’s not gonna open a present from a dead guy, say that shit’s creepy and insist they go back to watching the movie. 

Because he just can’t be sure he’s not going to fall apart. 

Because he… he didn’t expect a gift. 

Like sure, David got him something for every other birthday, but the last year he was alive Connor was a fucking disaster. He was a mess. 

He thinks back to that weird dream he remembers having not too long before David died. About eating a peanut butter sandwich and David tucking him into bed. 

It was partially weird because, like, that was just the sort of dude David was. He’d look after you. When Connor pushed the printer off of Mrs. G.’s desk in second grade and came home with a note from school, David was the one he ran to for help telling his mom. 

David caught him smoking outside when he was thirteen, but he didn’t bust Connor. He bummed a cigarette and asked Connor why he was smoking (and also how he’d gotten a hold of cigarettes because at thirteen Connor was, like, five foot nothing and weighed like ninety pounds). He didn’t seem judgmental or angry. He asked a lot of questions. Told Connor he would probably be better off if he quit while he was ahead. 

Didn’t bust him to his parents. 

He had been Connor’s godfather. He died only a few weeks after Connor started at Hanover. 

His parents refused to let him fly back for the funeral and Connor remembers being so angry with them that he wasn’t allowed to say goodbye. That he didn’t get to go and hug Aunt Heidi and be there because his folks thought he was “too fragile” after what happened at the end of the last school year. 

And Connor had almost just ignored them and bought himself a plane ticket home with the emergency credit card his dad had given him, but he chickened out at the last minute. 

Connor hadn’t wanted to see David dead. 

He’d been too scared. 

Connor swallows hard, looking at the package and then back at Evan. “It’s not fair,” He hears himself saying to Evan. “That you didn’t get to meet him.” He shakes his head. “He would have been, like, all about you.” 

Evan shakes his head dubiously. “I dunno…”

“No he super would have,” Connor insists. “He was, like, so smart? And you’re a genius, so you guys probably could have talked about, like, books or-or the environment or… ethics or whatever.” 

Evan smiles sadly. “He sounds… really great.”

Connor nods. Swallows hard. “Pl-please like. Don’t make fun of me if I…” He doesn’t finish. He doesn’t have to. 

“I won’t,” Evan says firmly. 

Connor gives him a miserable smile. 

He opens the box itself first because something about reading the card right now makes Connor’s chest ache. 

Inside, he discovers two copies of  _ The Count of Monte Cristo.  _ One in English, one in French. Connor laughs sadly. “So David always, like, super wanted to be able to speak French?” Connor tells Evan. “But he… was so bad at it? Like so bad. He sounded, almost, like, Southern when he tried?” He shakes his head. “But he loved French stuff. Especially stuff by French authors, even the super depressing shit.” He smiles and pages through the English copy, his heart skipping a beat when he sees David’s handwriting on one of the pages saying that a particular line always stood out to him. 

Fuck. 

Evan’s looking through the French copy and smiling a little, and then suddenly his face gets red. “Uh. Sorry. Here.”

Connor blinks in surprise. 

Evan’s holding out a $100 bill. 

“It fell out?”

Connor snorts. “He always did that? For-for me and Zoe’s stuff? If he gave us something, he’d, like, hide money in it too. Wait until we found it, like, laughing to himself? Zoe almost totally destroyed a brand new Beanie Baby because she didn’t think to check inside of the tag.” 

Evan smiles. 

And Connor finally feels like maybe he can open the card. 

It has a fucking space ship on the front and it says, “REACH FOR THE STARS” in big blue letters. It’s clearly meant to be for a much younger kid, but it makes Connor laugh because that was the kind of sense of humor David had. 

_ Happy Birthday, Connor! _

_ You’re sixteen today, provided I’ve managed to get you your gift on time. If you do get this late, I’d like to plead my case and explain that as I write this, it’s June, so I’m well ahead of the curve. Things have been crazy and we don’t get to see each other as much as I’d like, but I want you to know that I’m always thinking about you. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about what to get you for your sixteenth birthday and while it’s probably not the perfect gift, I hope you enjoy it.  _

_ I’ve always appreciated that we’re both bookworms, so I thought I’d find a copy of one of my old favorites for you to enjoy. As much as I’d like to, I have never read  _ The Count of Monte Cristo _ in its original French, but your mom tells me you’ve got a much better ear for languages than I ever had. With that in mind, I’ve found you a copy in English to read and enjoy now, and a copy in French for you to keep and read when you’ve got a better handle on the language. So I guess this is also an incentive to actually  _ try  _ in French class.  _

_ I’ve read this book so many times in English, so I’ve left you some notes on some of my thoughts. We talked about how second-hand books always have that  _ je-ne-sais-quoi _ , so I made sure to get you a second-hand copy that’s been well-loved and appreciated by someone else. I see it as making you a part of that book’s history. And since this is an important birthday, I may have hidden some surprises in the book along the way.  _

_ Connor, being your godfather is one of the greatest joys of my life. I’ve loved you ever since you were born, and it’s been an honor to have been a part of the first sixteen years of your life. I can’t wait to see what the next sixteen holds for you, and the next, and so on. You are so smart, talented and creative, and you have big things ahead of you, I can tell.  _

_ I know life isn’t always easy, as much as we’d like it to be. I wish there was more I could do to take away the things in life that cause you pain. I know your parents do, too. All I can offer you is love, support and a shoulder to cry on if you need it. If there is anything you ever need, or you ever feel like you need someone to talk to, our door is always open to you. Heidi and I will always be there. Nothing will change that.  _

_ Happy birthday. All the best for the year ahead, and all the years to come.  _

_ All my love,  _

_ David _

Connor awkwardly wipes his eyes when he finishes. 

Part of him is… a little relieved that David didn’t live to see this mess he’s become. 

Connor feels Evan put his arm around his shoulders and give Connor a tight squeeze, and Connor looks at him tearfully and says, “I… if he were here, I don’t think he’d like me very much anymore.”

Evan frowns. “That’s not true.”

Connor shakes his head, “I’m… I used to be  _ better _ than this.” His voice fails him and his eyes tear up again. “I just… I used to be better.”


	22. You Look So Good In the Clothes of a Poser

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A facial, a juice cleanse, some cufflinks, and a zipper.

True to her word, Cynthia Murphy does indeed insist that Heidi see her hairdresser. And get a facial. And a pedicure. Heidi finds herself ridiculously busy in the week leading up to cotillion because Cynthia will just not leave well enough alone. 

She also won’t stop asking questions about Evan. 

Trying to get information about his family, his background, the school he went to in Seattle. What his standing in society is, where he was planning to go to college, what he wants to do with his life. 

Heidi finds herself striking a delicate balance between being vague and outright lying. The more she lies, the easier it will be to get caught in a lie, but if she’s too vague, Cynthia will get suspicious. 

It’s exhausting. 

Completely exhausting. 

She ends up telling Cynthia that her brother and his wife are in Europe, which isn’t actually a lie. They’d conveniently announced they were moving to Germany in October. Her nephew Aaron, who’s about Evan’s age, is apparently pretty excited about the whole thing. 

People around here are busybodies, sure, but they’re notorious for not fact-checking. 

Everyone’s too worried someone will catch them in a lie that they don’t care to examine everyone else’s all that carefully. 

Everyone lives in a fucking glass house. No one’s prepared to throw stones. 

Cynthia seems to collect a larger group of vapid women every time she insists on dragging Heidi out for a “girl’s outing”, which she has to keep rescheduling her lunch breaks for. It’s incredibly annoying, but what’s even more annoying is that even while working as a public defender, Cynthia Nichols is a big enough name that if she shows up and says she needs Heidi, her boss will just… let her go. 

It is exceptionally irritating. Drives her fucking crazy. But at least it means that Cynthia’s not looking too closely at her work. 

It’s terrifying, just how easy it would be for it to all come crashing down. How easy it would be for everyone to find out who Evan really is. 

The longer they lie, the worse it’s going to be. 

She mentions this to Evan the night before cotillion. Evan freezes, his whole body going tense, then looks at Heidi with big, scared eyes. 

“I c-can’t tell p-people,” he manages to choke out. “They’d h-hate me.”

“You don’t know that,” Heidi tries, but Evan’s shaking his head, his mind apparently already made up. 

“N-not now,” he says, his voice shaking. “Not at cotillion, Zoe d-doesn’t deserve me r-r-ruining everything.” 

Heidi hates to admit it, but he’s right. 

If they’re going to tell people who Evan really is, now is a bad time to do it. 

Still…

Heidi doesn’t like to lie. Doesn’t like to be caught in a lie. 

And a part of her doesn’t think this lie is good for Evan, either. She sees how much he throws himself into being someone who matches the story they’ve built for him. Sees how tired it makes him, how uneasy. He carries himself with so much tension, so much fear. 

The only time he’s not afraid is when he’s with Connor. 

Heidi’s so grateful for Connor. She genuinely thinks he’s helping keep Evan sane through all of this. 

It’s nice to know that there’s someone he doesn’t have to pretend with. 

Evan deserves that.

* * *

The week before cotillion, Sabrina’s mom puts her on a juice cleanse.

“No solid food until we sew you into that dress,” she says sternly, handing Sabrina a glass of something green at breakfast. “You’re not embarrassing me on Saturday. It’s just not happening.” 

“I wasn’t planning on embarrassing anybody,” Sabrina says, taking an experimental sip of the green whatever. It’s truly, truly terrible, but she drinks it anyway. 

“You don’t have to plan it,” her mom says snidely. “It just happens.” She looks at Sabrina, her expression harsh. “You will not blow this for me, okay? It’s a big deal that you’re making your debut here. A huge deal that you’re making your debut with Cynthia Nichols’ daughter. This is going to be the event of the season.” She stops for a moment. “You’re still friends with Zoe, aren’t you?”

“We’re still friends,” says Sabrina. 

Her mom looks unconvinced. “Friends like you say hello to each other in the halls or friends like you eat lunch together and people see you hanging out?”

“Friends like she stayed over a few weekends ago when you and dad were out,” Sabrina reminds her. “Remember? I told you Zoe was staying over.”

She of course doesn’t mention what it is that she and Zoe did while her parents were away. 

Sabrina’s mom pauses, then smiles. “Well, good. At least you’re still getting that right.” She frowns again. “You’re not just hanging out here, are you? You’re making sure you’re spending time at Zoe’s? It’s important that you’re associated with each other. Important that people know you’re friends.”

“Everyone knows we’re friends,” Sabrina insists. “Zoe’s, like, best friends with Madison, but we all hang out all the time. The three of us.”

“Madison Whittington?” asks Sabrina’s mom, and Sabrina nods. She screws up her nose slightly. “Ugh. Her mother Heather is just… so tacky. Always trying to get in with the A-listers.”

Sabrina doesn’t see how that’s any different to what her mom is doing, but doesn’t say that. She does, however, end up at Zoe’s later that week, to find that the whole house has basically become some kind of cotillion shrine. The house is full of Newport Beach’s finest, the cream of society, and they’re all greeting Zoe like she’s some kind of princess, and it makes something in Sabrina’s chest twist a little. 

Zoe’s really… good at all of this. 

This whole society thing. 

Sabrina knows that her mom wants it to rub off on her, but honestly? She doesn’t have high hopes. Sabrina’s not built for this. 

Literally. She’s too big and weird and…

She’s trying really hard not to internalize this shit. Trying really, really hard, because it’s not helpful, it’s not healthy, and she doesn’t want to be any more messed up about her body than she already is. 

Fat camp was actually really good for keeping her views on her body in perspective. Sure, a lot of people were just focused on getting skinny, but there were some interesting workshops on nutrition and healthy body image, which Sabrina really enjoyed. 

She tries to focus on the cool things her body can do, not the way it looks. 

Sabrina’s strong. She’s got great endurance when she runs. She’s not a bad dancer. And when Zoe touches her, she feels beautiful. 

She feels so much when Zoe touches her. So fucking much. 

Sabrina and Zoe get roped into helping put together some kind of table decoration, sitting at the kitchen table tying little silver bows onto snowflake ornaments. The ladies are doing some of it, sure, but mostly they’re just drinking a lot of mimosas and talking shit. 

They keep coming in to ask Zoe questions, to drag her out to join them with their mimosas and shit talking. Zoe shoots Sabrina an apologetic look, but doesn’t insist that she join them, and that’s…

That’s fine. 

Maybe ten minutes after Zoe disappears into the crowd of shit-talking drunk ladies, Zoe’s brother Connor shows up in the kitchen. He opens the fridge, looks at it and frowns. Checks his phone, then pulls out a container of blueberries and counts out three of them. Puts them into his hand, then frowns at them. 

Then he seems to notice that she’s there. 

“Hey Sabrina,” he says, a little awkwardly. 

“Hey Connor,” she replies.

Connor is still holding the container. He holds it out to Sabrina. “Want some?”

Sabrina shakes her head. “Can’t,” she says with a sigh. “I’m on a juice cleanse. For cotillion.”

Something she can’t quite figure out flashes across Connor’s face. “That’s… that’s a thing.”

“It really is,” Sabrina says, shrugging. “Mom is, like, really worried I’ll embarrass her by being too fat for my dress or whatever.”

Connor looks genuinely pained at that. “You’re not fat,” he says, his voice very soft. Softer than she would have expected from Connor, who’s always seemed… harsh. Sharp. Angry. 

She’s known Connor since they were kids. They’ve never had much to do with each other, but she’s always known he was there. 

He never used to be this skinny, she realizes.

It would take, like, three of him to fit into her cotillion dress. Fuck. 

“Mom’s trying to get in with the Newport ladies,” Sabrina says, shrugging. “So my debut is a big deal to her.”

“The whole debutante thing is misogynistic as fuck,” Connor mumbles. “It’s like, parading young women around like they’re livestock or whatever. Showing them off like pieces of meat.” He blinks, then looks at Sabrina, a little curious. “Is Alana Beck going to be at cotillion?”

Sabrina actually knows the answer to this. “She is,” she confirms. “We’ve had, like, dance rehearsals? She’s spent the whole time just bitching about… well, exactly what you just said.”

Connor smiles a little. “Right on, Alana.” He looks at one of the blueberries in his hand like it has the secrets to existence, then eats it dubiously. Chews it slowly. Swallows it. 

Sabrina can’t help but watch him. It looks like he’s fighting some kind of battle just to eat. 

Her chest aches a little. 

“So who’s your escort?” Connor asks before eating the second blueberry. 

Sabrina sighs. “Brian Harris.”

Connor blinks. “Right.”

Sabrina looks around, making sure no one else is in earshot, then looks at Connor. “He’s kind of a creep?” she says, a little hesitantly. “Keeps making all these comments about my boobs, it’s…” She sighs. Rolls her eyes. “But he’s from a good family, so I guess I’d better just shut up and present my hindquarters for inspection or whatever.”

Connor lets out a laugh at that. It’s higher than Sabrina expected. Makes him sound young. 

“Well, I hope it’s not too awful,” he says, his voice still quiet. He hesitates for a moment, then looks at her. “I, uh… if he’s, like, being super creepy at cotillion? I’m kind of… I’m one of the ‘break glass in case of emergency’ escorts, so. Feel free to, like, punch him if he gets too handsy?” 

“Might take you up on that,” Sabrina mutters. She smiles at him. “Think Evan’s up for round two?”

Connor’s expression clouds a little. He shrugs. “I mean, he probably won’t risk a fight in the middle of cotillion, seeing as he’s Zoe’s date and all.” Connor seems unreasonably annoyed about that fact. 

That’s okay, Sabrina thinks. So is she.

* * *

Connor’s really trying to keep his asshole comments to a minimum. Keep his annoyance to himself about this whole cotillion situation far away from Zoe and Evan and their little adorable heterosexual bubble. 

But he’s being dragged into a bunch of this shit and is  _ not  _ happy. 

He got roped into dance rehearsals by his mom on the Friday before the damn thing. 

He can fucking  _ waltz _ , it is absolutely stupid that he’s even here. Nobody is going to need a last minute escort and if they do, they definitely won’t pick  _ him.  _ His mom keeps saying he’s going to end up playing “white knight” for some poor girl whose date falls through, but she’s definitely high if she thinks that they’d rather settle for  _ him _ than go alone. 

On Friday he gets paired with Alana Beck, because her escort doesn’t arrive until morning. 

“Connor!” She greets him enthusiastically and then immediately launches into a critique of the whole farcical situation that is societal debuts. She’s changed her hair. It’s in a lot of tiny braids that hang down to her waist, and she tells Connor that she chose the braids as “a compromise” with her mother, even though they took “over six hours” to complete, because her mother had wanted her to relax her hair permanently for the event. 

“The chemicals they use in permanent relaxers have been linked to cancer,” she tells him seriously. 

“Oh shit, really?” Connor says because he had no idea. 

Alana nods seriously. “Misogyny is a killer.”

“Too fucking true,” Connor tells her. 

They practice waltzing and Alana keeps accidentally trying to dance the guys’ steps and Connor thinks it’s kind of funny really but he just keeps his mouth shut. 

Across the room, Zoe and Evan are laughing together easily and Evan’s hand is sitting too high on Zoe’s back, like he’s terrified he might accidentally cop a feel if he lets it rest properly on her waist. Zoe keeps fixing it and on the last time he catches her at it, she purposefully puts Evan’s hand on her ass and laughs when he turns all red. 

Connor kind of wants to punch him a little. Or Zoe. He wants to punch somebody. Maybe himself. He feels like he could use a punch in the face right now. 

“So, who is your real escort?” Connor asks Alana for lack of anything else to say. 

“Oh, Reginald St. James. He’s a family friend. We’ve known each other since we were little.” She smiles slightly. “Actually you might know him? He’s an alumnus of Hanover.”

Connor sort of made a point to never interact with alumni when he was enrolled there, but he politely shrugs and says the name sounds familiar. 

Zoe and Evan keep laughing. Like they’re fucking mocking him across the room.  _ We have so much more  _ fun  _ without you around,  _ their laughs seem to say.  _ It’s so much easier without you to mess things up.  _

Connor feels fucking gross. 

At the end of rehearsal, Connor watches Brian Harris leer at Sabrina and then, stupidly, he makes eye contact with Brian, hoping that a dirty look will get him to keep his hands to himself and off of Sabrina. 

“You looking at something, Quitter?” Brian calls from across the room. 

God he hopes Brian wants a fight. Connor would  _ love  _ to hit something right now. He would love to  _ be _ hit. He starts to formulate a response to Brian, prepares to mouth off to the asshole but then Evan’s standing at his side and thrusting a small bag of almonds under his nose. 

“Want some?” Evan asks him. 

“No,” Connor snaps. 

Evan just looks at him, his eyebrows up. “If you get in a fight with Brian, you know y-your mom will still m-make you go tomorrow.”

Connor sort of wants to smack the bag of almonds out of Evan’s hand and scatter them all over this ballroom. 

Instead he takes two and shoves them angrily into his mouth. Imagines he’s crunching Brian’s bones to dust with his teeth. His jaw aches with effort but he chews the two almonds and swallows them. 

Evan seems like he’s waiting for Connor to take more and it takes everything in Connor to not just start screaming at him like some kind of psychopath. Instead he takes two more almonds and very very very carefully chews them one at a time. It’s like his mouth doesn’t have enough spit to eat. He feels like he could gag on the nuts and then Connor almost laughs at himself because  _ gag on  _ nuts _ , Jesus.  _

“What?” Evan asks, looking at him like he’s searching out what’s funny. 

“Choking on nuts,” Connor mutters, kind of embarrassed. 

Evan still looks confused.

“Oh, go ask my sister,” Connor says, irritated. He stalks away from Evan and sulks near the exit until Zoe’s ready to go. Humor is wasted on straight people. 

Lately, Connor has been researching colleges with big LGBT populations. Maybe that can be his exit strategy here. Go somewhere super gay. Get away from all these happy straight couples, merrily playing house while they’re still in high school.

Connor shoves his headphones in and goes to wait outside. He doesn’t even care that his mom is around here somewhere; Connor lights a cigarette and sinks down onto a bench. 

He feels like total shit. He just wants this weekend to be over. It’s been a nightmare so far and it’s not even Saturday yet. 

Because apparently Connor has the worst luck imaginable, his mom materials out of thin air and snatches the cigarette from his lips. 

He pulls his headphones out and realizes he’s missed the beginning of her ranting and cursing him out. “Just wait until your father finds out about this!”

Connor shrugs. He’s pretty sure his dad already knows. “Why, what’ll he do? Say nothing just like he does when you get drunk all the time?” He spits. 

His mom raises her hand and Connor can’t help it, he flinches. 

She doesn’t hit him. 

He’s surprised. 

“Knock it off,” his mom says, dropping his smoke to the sidewalk and grinding it out with her expensive shoes. 

She heads inside. 

Someone must have been looking, Connor reasons. 

He’s a lot bigger than his mom. He’s stupid to be scared of her. He’s gotten worse from people at school. 

But he’s shaking a little.

* * *

Evan’s on edge all week. Every single cell in his body is on high alert, all the time, and he’s trying to act like that’s not the case. Trying to act like he’s fine, like nothing is wrong, like this is totally normal he goes to cotillions all the time this is normal and no big deal and everything is fine and he can do this he can do this he can do this. 

He can’t do this. 

Zoe is going to find out that he’s a fraud. 

Going to find out that he’s a nobody from fucking Chino, he’s a criminal that Heidi took in out of the goodness of her heart. 

Fuck. 

Mrs. Murphy would be so fucking horrified if she knew who Evan really was. 

She looks down on him already, he can tell. Thinks he’s not good enough for her daughter, which, obviously, is true, but… she doesn’t know just how garbage he is. 

He’s a fraud. 

He’s faking it, he’s faking everything and someone’s going to find out. 

He just has to hold it together as long as he can. Long enough to get Zoe through cotillion, because this is a Big Deal to her and he shouldn’t have agreed to be her escort, shouldn’t have agreed to this because he’s about to ruin some big important rich teenage girl milestone because he’s a disaster. 

A total disaster. 

A car thief who can’t drive, a liar and a fake. 

He has no business being here. No business being at this event. No business being in this stupid fucking suit. 

On Saturday afternoon, he’s supposed to get ready at the venue, apparently, but that just freaks him out, so Heidi says they’ll get ready at home. Just the two of them. 

It helps with the nerves, he has to admit, having Heidi there. 

After he takes a long shower and shaves, he gets into his undershirt and pants and heads into Heidi’s room to let her take point in making sure he’s fit for public view. The first thing she does is hand him some cologne, which he has never once in his life used. She smiles, then shows him what to do, walks him through making sure he’s using it properly. 

“So a lot of guys wear way too much,” says Heidi conversationally. “Best to err on the side of caution.” 

It smells good. Kind of… expensive, if a smell can even  _ be  _ expensive. 

Heidi kind of sniffs the air and nods in approval. Puts some product in his hair and tames the waves into something kind of… sophisticated-looking. 

“Alright,” she says, smiling. “We’ve got a good base to work with here.” Her smile softens. “Zoe’s going to lose her mind at how good you look.”

Evan shrugs. “I d-don’t know about that,” he says quietly. 

He puts on his shirt. Lets Heidi help with the bowtie and the cummerbund. Looks at the sleeves of this stupid shirt helplessly, because he still doesn’t understand why the fuck they don’t have buttons and no one will tell him. 

Heidi seems to notice. She turns to her dresser and picks up a small box. Opens it to reveal what Evan thinks at first might be earrings. 

“Cufflinks,” she says, taking one out and reaching out to pin Evan’s sleeves together. “I got these for David for our 15th wedding anniversary. They’re crystal.”

Evan swallows hard. 

“I can’t-” he tries to say. 

“You can,” Heidi says gently, pinning up the other sleeve. “They’re nice cufflinks. They should be worn.”

Evan can feel himself shaking a little. 

Heidi puts her hand on his shoulder. “Sweetheart,” she says gently. “It’s going to be okay.”

“I don’t want to embarrass you,” he says in a rush. “There are g-going to be a lot of p-people there and I-I-I don’t want to embarrass you-”

“You don’t,” Heidi says firmly. “You won’t, Evan.” She puts her other hand on his shoulder and looks at him. 

He’s grown a little since he got here, he thinks. He’s looking down on her now. 

He didn’t when he first arrived.

There’s a lump in his throat at the thought. 

“You’re an amazing kid,” Heidi says firmly. “It doesn’t matter where you came from. All that matters is who you are. And who you are is amazing.”

Evan feels his shoulders sag. “I’m not.”

“You are,” she insists. She squeezes his shoulders a little. Smiles at him warmly. “You are an amazing person. People see that. It doesn’t matter where you’re from.”

Heidi pulls away, and Evan goes to look at himself in the mirror. 

He doesn’t recognize the person he’s seeing. 

Who even is this guy with the fancy suit and the styled hair and the cufflinks? What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck?

He wonders if everyone feels like they’re looking at a stranger when they look at their reflection, or if it’s just him.

* * *

The day of cotillion is a whirlwind. 

Zoe is a bundle of nerves from the moment he mom wakes her up early so she can go and get her nails and hair done. 

She opts for a classy French tip manicure. She has to have acrylic tips put on because Zoe has been wearing her fingernails pretty short lately. 

She doesn’t want to think about why. 

The stylist does Zoe’s hair up in an elegant knot at the back of her head. There are sparkly stones on several of the pins out into her hair, and when Zoe gets home her mom gifts her a new platinum necklace with a small diamond pendant from a Tiffany box. 

The stone sits just perfectly at the base of her throat. 

In the other room, her mom argues with Connor to take off his nail polish before tonight so he doesn’t “embarrass everyone in this family in front of the whole community.”

Their mom seems to win the argument because when Zoe next sees her brother, his nails are clean and neatly trimmed. 

It sits weirdly with her to see that. 

It reminds her weirdly of visiting him when he was in the hospital. How everything about him seemed to be slightly cleaned up before Zoe was allowed inside. Fresh clothes, his hair slightly damp from a shower. He hadn’t been wearing it as long then; it only curled around his chin and ears. 

But she doesn’t really have time to worry about it, because then they’re heading off to the club to get ready. There’s a whole staging area in the back with makeup artists and people available to do last minute dress alterations and to solve hair emergencies. 

Everyone is buzzing with excitement as Zoe gets set up at a vanity to have her face done. 

Sabrina is in the chair next to her. She looks a little bit pale. She’s wearing a yellow zip hoodie and yoga pants. The hoodie is unzipped a little so Zoe can just barely make out the suggestion of her cleavage. 

“Hey,” Zoe says to her. Sabrina’s nails are also longer now. She’s got a slightly sparkly champagne color polish on on them. 

“Hey,” she says back softly. “The makeup people are having a hard time matching my foundation,” she says woefully. 

“I’m sorry,” Zoe says. 

“It’s alright,” Sabrina says with a sigh. “I brought mine but… mom’s freaking out.” 

Making sure nobody else is around, Zoe reaches out her hand. And Sabrina immediately takes it. 

“You look gorgeous,” Zoe says softly because it’s true. Her hair is styled in soft curls that cascade down her back. Sabrina has really long hair. It’s beautiful. The color of espresso, dark and rich. Even without a stitch of makeup on, Sabrina is easily one of the prettiest girls in the whole dressing area. 

“I don’t,” Sabrina basically whispers. “My mom’s totally been telling me how much of a cow I am all day.” 

They’re alone in the dressing area. It’s just them. Sabrina looks like maybe she could cry and Zoe hates it. She gets up from her chair and comes to stand beside her. 

“Your mom’s a bitch,” Zoe says fiercely, leaning over so she’s looking directly into Sabrina’s beautiful brown eyes. They are so dark. Her lashes are thick and long and dark and when she blinks, they basically touch Sabrina’s cheeks. 

“I know,” she says shakily. 

Zoe can’t help herself. Casting a careful glance behind herself to make sure nobody is about to come bursting in, Zoe leans in and captures Sabrina’s lips in a soft kiss. 

Sabrina’s eyes go wide and she looks at Zoe, just looks at her. She looks so sad. So beautiful and sad and Zoe kisses her again, and Sabrina responds immediately, her lips so soft and so warm against Zoe’s. 

“You look so pretty,” Zoe murmurs between kisses. “So pretty.”

“Not as pretty as you,” Sabrina says in this hushed voice. 

“You’re right,” Zoe says. “You’re  _ prettier. _ ”

Sabrina’s cheeks go a soft pink. 

Zoe leans in and kisses her once more, because her lips are so sweet and soft and nice and she… she wants Sabrina to feel as beautiful as she looks. 

The door opens just as Zoe and Sabrina break apart. 

Zoe covers it easily. “There,” she says, reaching out and gently sweeping a curl slightly to the right of Sabrina’s face. “Now it’s perfect.”

Sabrina gives her this shy and gorgeous smile. 

The makeup artist seems to have figured out Sabrina’s foundation so she gets to work. Meanwhile the other one gets to work on Zoe, picking out a pallet of taupe and shimmery champagne and lilac to bring out Zoe’s eyes. When her makeup is finished, Zoe takes in her reflection. She looks… like someone else entirely. Someone softer and brighter, with slightly rosy cheeks and perfectly plump lips. 

There is a subtle violet lining her eyes and it makes them look almost like solid gold. 

She shows Sabrina whose jaw actually drops. 

“Wow,” she says. “Stunning.”

Sabrina looks much the same. Her eyes are outlined with a silvery gold and brushed with copper and the mascara she’s wearing makes it look like she has mile long eyelashes. 

She looks amazing. 

Zoe tells her so. 

“Alright girls gotta let the others get ready,” the makeup artist who was working on Zoe says, all but shooing them from the room. Alana Beck heads in wearing chunky vegan boots and immediately demands to know if the products they are using were tested on animals. 

Sabrina and Zoe head out into the fray of girls and boys in various states of readiness. 

Zoe’s eyes catch on Evan, already totally dressed. He’s standing beside Connor, who has pulled his hair into a neat knot at the back of his neck. He looks good in his new tux, Zoe thinks. His legs just stretch on and on under the fabric. Both of the boys have flowers pinned to their lapels. 

She and Sabrina head over. “Hi,” Zoe says breathlessly. 

Evan’s eyes almost bug out of his head. A blush creeps up his neck and cheeks. He’s done something different to his hair. Gelled it back in a way that makes him look… older. More sophisticated. 

He looks damn good. 

“Looking good,” she says to him. 

“Wow,” Evan says to Zoe, his eyes still huge. “Y-you look…  _ wow. _ ”

“I’m not even dressed!” Zoe says with a little giggle. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Zoe catches Connor rolling his eyes. 

Fucker. 

“You still playing backup?” Zoe asks him. 

“Yup,” he says, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Waiting around to see what poor loser might get stuck with me.”

Sabrina pulls a face. 

God he’s such a dickhead. 

“We should go get dressed,” Sabrina says, smiling awkwardly. “You look nice boys.”

Evan smiles at her. Zoe catches the way his eyes linger on the zip of her hoodie and… fuck she would kill to have bigger boobs right now. 

“See you soon, ladies,” Evan says. Connor gives him a  _ look.  _

Sabrina and Zoe head off to the dressing area where their moms are waiting. 

“Oh sweetheart you look beautiful,” Zoe’s mom says to her and Zoe doesn’t miss the glass of champagne clutched in her hand. She’s wearing a chic black number and her red hair is swept up elegantly into a chignon. 

“Thanks,” Zoe says awkwardly. 

Sabrina’s mom is frowning. “That lip color washes you out,” she tells Sabrina. “Don’t worry I have a backup in my clutch.”

“It’s fine mom, just let me put my dress on.” Sabrina disappears behind the curtain. 

“If you can’t get that zipper up, Sabrina, so help me God…”

“Let’s get you dressed,” Zoe’s mom says and they head behind the curtain as well. Zoe’s wearing her crisp white longline bra and matching satin panties. She feels weird about wearing only that in front of her mom as she steps into her dress. 

It’s pretty. 

A light and floaty white strapless gown with a full skirt and a bodice that is covered in tiny handsewn crystals and pearls. Zoe steps into it and pulls it up to rest against her chest while her mom zips up the back. 

The zipper catches about halfway up. 

“Zoe,” her mother’s voice is so cold it sends a shiver up Zoe’s spine. “Why won’t this dress zip?”

Zoe feels like she’s going to dissolve into tears. She’s been  _ so  _ careful about what she eats lately. So careful. She’s only had water and a few grapes today. “I don’t know,” she says frantically, panic building inside her chest. “I don’t know!”

Her mom yanks on the zipper again viciously. 

Zoe can feel it pressing against the skin of her back, it’s teeth biting through the bra. 

Zoe’s going to totally lose it. 

“You know how important tonight is,” her mother hisses, yanking the zipper down and trying again. It gets stuck a second time. 

Zoe feels a hot and embarrassing tear dribble down her face. 

“Don’t you  _ dare _ ruin your face,” her mom snaps. 

Zoe tries to get a hold of herself. 

“Zoe I swear if you can’t debut tonight because you’re too fat to squeeze into this dress,” her mom goes on. 

“Need any help in here, ladies?”

It’s Jenny Kleinman of all fucking people. 

“Yes,” Zoe’s mother says brightly. “I’ll be needing the name of a weight loss program to send my daughter to since she’s been stuffing her face and I can’t get her dress to zip.” Her mom sniffs, disgusted. “And not whatever bargain bin facility Lisa sent that Sabrina to. Clearly she did not get her money’s worth.”

Zoe can’t stop another tear from escaping. “Mom I swear I haven’t been-”

“Stop crying this instant,” her mother commands. “I will not have you making a spectacle of us because you can’t control yourself.”

Jenny Kleinman seems to be  _ loving  _ this. Her eyes are bright and gleeful. She inspects the back of Zoe’s dress. “Ah, here seems to be the problem,” she says with a saccharine smile in the mirror. “This zipper is broken. Cynthia, don’t tell me you bought this  _ off the rack. _ ”

Zoe’s mother looks furious. Zoe wants to die. She actually wants to die right here because she cannot deal with this humiliation. 

The situation is resolved remarkably quickly. Zoe steps back out of the dress and pulls on her hoodie while her mom and Jenny rush off with the dress to have the zipper replaced on the fly. 

Zoe stares at her reflection in the big mirror. Tries to catch her tears as they are forming so she doesn’t ruin her makeup. 

“Z-Zoe?”

Evan’s voice is coming to her from the other side of the curtain. 

“What?” She says miserably. 

“Connor said… he saw your mom go somewhere with y-your dress?” He sounds concerned. “H-he was worried… A-are you alright?”

Zoe pulls back the curtain. She does care that she’s in her underwear and a hoodie. She looks at Evan miserably. “I’m too fat and my zipper broke,” she says. 

He looks horrified. “That’s not… oh sh-shit I’m so sorry.”

“Guess you won’t have to worry about waltzing now,” she says bitterly. 

“Hey, no, no, it’ll be…” he looks around helplessly. “C-can’t they fix it? I saw, like, ten sewing machines?”

Zoe feels her lip start to wobble again because even if it is fixed this whole thing has been totally  _ ruined.  _ She didn’t want him seeing her like this. 

Evan pulls the curtain back the rest of the way and steps into her dressing room. He closes the curtain behind him. “It’s… Zoe it’s gonna b-be fine.”

And then he does something she doesn’t expect. 

He puts his arms around her and pulls her in for a hug. Zoe wants to melt into it and just cry into his surprisingly solid chest, but then she’ll wreck her face and his jacket with her makeup, so instead she takes a few shuddery breaths and tries to steady herself. He smells nice. Like a man, not just a boy. 

“Are you wearing cologne?” She asks. 

Evan laughs slightly. “Y-yeah,” he says. “Heidi said… yeah.”

Zoe smiles. Pulls away. “It’s nice.”

Evan smiles back at her shyly. 

He’s rubbing circles on her back and Zoe feels a lot less… freaked out than she did even a minute ago. Despite how nervous of a person Evan is, his presence is strangely calming. 

The curtain pulls back and her mom is standing there, still looking totally furious. “Evan,” she says, her eyebrows climbing. “This is the  _ girls’  _ dressing area.”

“Sor-sorry Mrs. Murphy,” he says quietly. “I just… sorry.” He gives Zoe an apologetic smile and heads out. 

Her mom gives Zoe a withering look. “He looks like a waiter in that get up,” she says coldly. “And you look like you’re whoring around with the help.”

Zoe feels anger flash inside her. First Sabrina, now Evan. Her mom is in fine fucking form today. “ _ You  _ helped to pick out his tux,” Zoe says acidly. 

Her mother just frowns at her. 

In the end, it ends up okay. The zipper is replaced and Zoe’s dress fits like it’s supposed to. Like a glove. She looks amazing in it. Like the person she’s supposed to be. A proper debutante. 

Her mom fusses with a piece of Zoe’s hair. “Do not embarrass me tonight.”

Zoe vows to herself that she won’t.

* * *

There is a guy looking at Connor. 

It’s not the guy Connor would like to be looking at him, but it is  _ a  _ guy and he’s definitely looking at Connor. 

Weird. 

Does he know this dude? Connor doesn’t recognize him. 

There’s two possibilities: 

One, he’s pissed this dude off sometime in his past, likely when he was too high to remember properly. 

Two, this guy has heard the shit people say about Connor. 

The guy is… well he could probably model if the fashion industry wasn’t so damn racist. He’s got super dark brown skin and almond shaped eyes and high cheekbones. 

Connor’s not  _ dead.  _ Just because he kinda has a weird thing for Evan, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t notice when a dude is objectively beautiful. And this dude is. He’s in a well fitted tuxedo and has these shoes that Connor sort of envies. They’re shiny and black, but the soles are a cerulean blue and they look almost electric. 

Why the fuck is he looking at Connor?

Connor feels weirdly naked, standing around in this tux. His nail polish is gone. His mom made him take out his earrings and pull his hair off of his face. He feels extremely exposed. 

Evan’s fucking with his sleeves for like the hundredth time. Connor sort of wants to tell him to chill but he knows it’s not fair of him to be snappish just because Evan is nervous. 

He’s allowed to be nervous. In some ways, this is as much Evan’s social debut as it is Zoe’s. He’s publicly presenting himself to the world of Newport high society. 

As Heidi’s nephew from Seattle. 

He knows that’s bugging Evan but has long since abandoned trying to convince him just to come clean about who he really is. Last time he said something, Evan basically didn’t talk to him for the rest of the day. 

So Connor’s not going to do that. 

“Is-is that guy looking at me?” Evan asks Connor, his voice all edgy and nervous. 

Connor hasn’t considered that. He shrugs. “It’s probably just someone I’ve pissed off, he’s not looking at you.”

“B-but-”

“ _ Evan _ ,” Connor says seriously. “Nobody is looking at you.”

Evan’s face falls. 

“I mean… I don’t mean in a bad way,” Connor tries to explain. “I mean like. You look great. You fit right in. Don’t… it’s okay.”

Evan fucks with his cufflinks some more. Connor resists the urge to just grab his hand and hold onto it tightly like he did after the concert. 

It’s gonna be a long fucking night. 

He saw Eric, working as a valet again, when his dad parked the car. He smiled at Connor and said, “Hey you’re here!”

Connor never knows what to say to that guy. 

The model looking guy is still watching him. Connor finds himself debating cutting out to go sneak a drink at the bar or something. 

Because apparently he’s becoming his mother. 

There’s a lot to unpack there. 

His new therapist says that all the fucking time. “There’s a lot to unpack there, Connor,” she’ll say whenever he opens his mouth and says something especially stupid. Like when he told her that he knows how stupid he is because some people have real problems. 

Fuck. 

The Greek God with the cool shoes is walking toward them. Evan looks panicked and sends Connor a total S.O.S. look and Connor can’t help him because he’s totally frozen to the spot. He’s expecting to get punched. He’s gonna get punched and cause a huge scene and ruin his sister’s debut and his mom will throw him out and they’ll find him hanging from a belt in whatever boarding school dorm room they ship him off to. 

There’s a lot to unpack there. 

Some people have real problems. 

“Hey,” the extremely attractive dude says. 

To Connor. 

Connor blinks at him stupidly a few times. “Hi?”

“I don’t think we’ve met,” the Greek God says, extending his hand to Connor. “I’m Reginald St. James. But my friends call me Reg.”

Connor takes his hand apprehensively. “Connor Murphy,” he says. “My friends don’t call me anything.”

“Ah, so you’re an enigma?” Reg says. 

“No, I just don’t have friends,” Connor returns. 

And Reg. 

Laughs. 

Evan gives Connor a weird look. Shit right. “This is Evan Hansen,” he says, making introductions because that’s what you do here. You introduce total strangers because that’s what is polite. 

“Ah yes,” Reg says. “Alana mentioned you. You’re her lab partner. She says you have very neat handwriting.”

Evan looks totally bewildered but Connor laughs. “So you’re Alana’s date.”

“Indeed I am. Our dads know each other from Yale. She’s one of my oldest… ah. Acquaintances.” At Connor’s raised eyebrow he says, “Her term, not mine. Apparently having friends is out.” He smirks at Connor. And then. Winks. 

What. 

A sudden third possibility surfaces in Connor’s brain about why this dude has been watching him. 

But there’s no way… right? 

He’s not… interested, is he? No way. 

Nope. Connor dismisses it. That’s not happening. Like when he thought Evan cuddling up to him after the concert, he’s just seeing what he wants to see. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Connor sees his mom bustling across the staging area with a huge white bundle. He recognizes Zoe’s dress. His mom looks pissed as she hands it off to one of the people doing alterations. 

Shit. Is something wrong with the dress?

Shit. 

Connor nudges Evan, who is sort of frowning at Reg while he talks about going to school at Harvard. “Dude,” Connor says, nodding toward the sewing machines. “That’s Zoe’s dress.”

Evan follows Connor’s nod and then frowns. “Oh. Shit.”

“Yeah,” Connor says. He leans in toward Evan, speaking quietly. Evan smells different. Familiar somehow. It reminds Connor of David. “Maybe you should go check on Zo? She’s probably freaking out if something’s up with the dress.”

“Oh,” Evan says. He gives Connor an uncertain look. “You sure you don’t wanna…?”

“Nah, I’ll just piss her off,” Connor says honestly. “Go be her knight in shining armor or whatever.” He points Evan in the direction of the girls’ dressing rooms. 

Evan nods and takes off. 

Reg smiles at Connor. “You got rid of him fast.” He reaches out and grabs two champagne flutes, hands one to Connor. “Alone at last.”

Connor feels his face heat up. “He’s my sister’s escort.”

Reg nods. “So.  _ Not _ your boyfriend then.”

_ No,  _ Connor thinks a bit miserably. 

He drinks the champagne he was handed for lack of anything better to do. “I’m surprised Alana agreed to do this,” he says after a long moment. 

Reg smiles. “Her parents agreed to make a donation to Planned Parenthood if she did.”

“Of course,” Connor says with a grin. “Alana is… amazing.”

“You two  _ acquaintances,  _ then?” Reg asks. 

Connor shrugs, still smiling. “Something like that,” He answers. Takes another sip of champagne. “I kind of… accidentally helped her assemble her fashion show protest just before school started?”

Reg’s eyes light up. “Oh so you’re  _ that  _ Connor.”

Connor blinks. Are there other Connors he isn’t aware of?

“Yeah, I mean, mostly I was just escaping the bullshit that is the fashion show, but I couldn’t leave her all by herself with those signs.” 

“A good man,” Reg says happily. He holds his half drunk champagne aloft slightly. “A toast, to Alana’s tenacity.”

Connor smiles bigger and taps his glass against Reg’s, feeling strangely warm. He figures it’s just because all he’s eaten today are a handful of the almonds that Evan hid in his tux jacket sometime during the last week. He’d better slow down on the champagne or he won’t fulfill his duties as a backup date. 

He surveys the room. Everyone seems to have picked up on a sort of similarly manic energy, the same one that was rolling off of Evan in waves all night, but here with Reg, Connor feels a little removed from all of that. 

“So your sister’s date,” Reg says, sounding thoughtful. “The one who’s not your boyfriend?”

“What about him?” Connor says, feeling sort of defensive. 

“What’s his deal?” He asks. “Is he your sister’s boyfriend?”

Connor shrugs. “No idea. He’s my best friend.”

Reg eyes him up. “Thought you didn’t have friends.”

“Well. I’ve just got the one.” 

“Ah,” Reg returns. He shrugs. “He just… well. For someone who isn’t your boyfriend, but is maybe your sister’s… he seemed a little. Territorial.”

Connor shrugs unhappily. “He’s just… loyal?” 

Reg laughs. “Like a puppy.”

Connor doesn’t like that so much. “Like someone who isn’t interested in playing this whole stupid society game.”

Reg nods. “But we both know you can’t really escape it.” He finishes his glass of champagne. “Don’t we?”

Connor has to admit he’s got a point. 

Reg sees Alana and, apparently reluctantly, tears himself away from Connor. Connor finishes his own drink and wanders away from his post, trying to decide if he’s got enough time before this whole debacle gets started to sneak out for a smoke. 

He never gets to decide because his mother is marching toward him, her face set in an ugly frown that sort of highlights the fact that she needs to have her botox touched up again. She grabs Connor by the elbow and tugs him away from the crowd of people. “Do you enjoy embarrassing me?”

Connor has no idea what she’s talking about, but somehow he suspects that any answer he gives her will be the wrong one. He clamps his jaw shut, grinding his back teeth together, and just looks vaguely off toward the room full of people. 

“I  _ saw  _ you,” She hisses close to his ear, her voice low. “You and that boy. Flirting out in the open, carrying on.”

Connor’s eyes pop wide. Had they been flirting? He wasn’t flirting, he doesn’t think, he doesn’t know how to flirt. “I wasn’t -”

“Don’t lie,” She says, her voice soft but terrifying. “I’ve had enough of you trying to ruin this evening for your sister and I.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Connor insists, still not looking at her. She’s still got her hand wrapped tightly around his arm, and Connor tries to pull free without drawing people’s eyes. 

“Carrying on like that in public,” She goes on, “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Connor clenches his jaw tighter. He didn’t even  _ do  _ anything. 

“You will not ruin this evening for your sister,” His mom goes on, her voice trembling with rage. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this to me.”

“Doing what?” Connor asks stupidly. 

“Acting like  _ this, _ ” She says, grabbing harder at his arm. “If you had any sense you would be embarrassed for yourself. You’re so selfish, insisting that everyone knows what you’re like.”

“What I’m like?” Connor repeats, his voice coming out hollow. 

She hates him she hates him his mother hates him. She hates him so much and it’s so clear by the way she’s looking at him like something she’s found on the bottom of her shoe, she finds him disgusting and vile and she hates him. 

“I can work with the drugs and the partying,” She goes on, angrier still. “Lord knows half of the people here tonight have a coke habit they’re trying to hide. But you. No, no, you can’t even hide it or at the very least make yourself presentable to the world like Karen Lavery’s son and his profitable boutique in New York.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Connor says even though he very well does. Karen Lavery’s son Bram came out as gay several years ago. He’s a fashion designer. It was all anyone could talk about. 

But Connor wants to hear her say it. 

“Everyone knows that Jerry Kleinman is gay,” His mom continues viciously. “He’s fucked every male intern at the firm for the last twenty years. But he knows better than to do it  _ publicly _ . He’s smart enough to play the game and keep Jenny around. And if you can’t be smart enough to keep  _ your  _ head down, you could at least make wiser choices about the types of people you throw yourself at -”

“Mom -” Connor says, his voice shaking now, his heart pounding too hard in his chest. 

“I just want what’s best for you and you resent me for it,” She says, like  _ her  _ heart is the one that’s breaking. “That boy, and Heidi’s pathetic stuttering nephew. You could at least have the decency to go after someone with  _ class _ .”

Connor swallows hard. He feels sick. 

“I’ve given you every opportunity, gone to bat for you time and again with your father, and this is how you repay my kindness? By stubbornly refusing to fit in, by making a mockery of me!” She squeezes his arm harder. “We both know that you’ll never be anyone, but you could at least pretend until you’re out of my house.”

“I didn’t even want to come tonight,” Connor says quietly, his voice coming out rough and jagged. “You’re the one who -”

“You aren’t above what we do here just because you have these disgusting proclivities, Connor,” His mom says, and she’s basically shaking him now. “You will not embarrass me anymore tonight, do you hear me?”

Connor doesn’t respond. 

He feels like he’s watching this conversation happen from across the room. 

“Am I making myself clear?” His mother barks. 

Connor blinks and he’s back in his body, back looking down at his mother’s face. Her lipstick is smudged on her front tooth. He doesn’t tell her. “Crystal,” Connor says in a small voice. 

“Good.” His mom drops Connor’s arm and hurries away. 

Connor looks around helplessly to see if anyone else notices his guts spilling out onto the floor, his heart bleeding and open in his chest. Nobody even seems to have realized he wasn’t there anymore. 

Fuck. 

If he disappeared tomorrow, nobody would even notice or care. 

He should have disappeared a long time ago. 

Connor takes a shuddering breath. Heads into the men’s bathroom where he washes his face. Looks at the mirror for a long time. 

Like this, he almost fits in here. 

Almost. 

In his tux, his hair slicked back, he could be one of those guys who excels at schmoozing and small talk and golf and fucking his wife. 

But he’s not. 

His reflection proves it. He’s gone too far to slide back now. 

So he’ll just have to face it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "What I’m Trying To Say" by Stars. 
> 
> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! at the Disco


	23. Have Some Composure, Where Is Your Posture?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Give me envy, give me malice, give me your attention.

“Someone needs to switch Cynthia Murphy to seltzer,” murmurs one of the Newport ladies whose name Heidi can’t quite remember right now. There are so many of them, and they’re all dressed the same and they all have the same haircut and the same goddamn nose. 

“Oh, she’s in fine form tonight,” says Lucinda Pratt in hushed tones. “Jenny says she lost it at her daughter over a broken zipper.” 

“Not to mention how tight a grip she had on her son’s arm earlier,” says yet another blonde Stepford wife type. “You could tell she was just giving him absolute hell.”

“What would you expect?” says Heather Whittington, her voice dripping with disdain. “You should hear some of the things my Tommy has to say about Cynthia’s boy. He’s a total embarrassment to the whole family.” 

“They made the right call sending him away,” says another woman.

Heidi clears her throat and looks at the group, who all immediately go silent. 

Moments later, they’re moving off to the bar like a flock of snobby flamingos. 

Heidi hates these events so much. 

So fucking much. 

She could handle them when David was alive. They’d come to cotillion every year when David was still alive, because Cynthia always organized it. She’d always insist on a waltz with David at some point. _For old time’s sake._

David was Cynthia’s escort when she was a debutante. 

She’s heard the story a thousand times.

Honestly, Heidi doesn’t get the whole thing. Doesn’t get why it’s important. David tried to explain it but didn’t seem to really be able to capture the appeal. 

Apparently when he escorted Cynthia, she’d just broken up with him for the third time that year, and she spent the whole night flirting with Tony Harris. 

_Old time’s sake._

Fuck that. 

Cynthia is definitely drunk, though. It’s painfully obvious. She’s stumbling around in this fancy dress, precarious in her high heels, and she’s laughing loudly and flirting blatantly with Aaron Patel, who looks incredibly uncomfortable about the whole thing. 

Larry’s kind of hovering around, like he’s trying to keep an eye on her but also keep his distance, which… honestly, Heidi completely gets. 

Fuck. 

Cynthia’s been drunk for the past year, everyone knows that, but this is a step up. She’s not usually so… sloppy.

It all appears to be starting. The lights dim a little. Aaron Patel manages to extract himself from Cynthia’s grasp and goes to stand in the waiting area for fathers. Larry joins him, looking at his wife with concern, watching her like a hawk. 

Cynthia goes to the bar and gets another drink. 

Heidi seriously considers going over there and cutting her off. 

She doesn’t, however, because she knows it wouldn’t end well. 

There’s an area where the escorts are waiting, a little to the side. Evan’s standing there, a little to the side, separated from Connor who’s in conversation with a handsome looking young black man who seems a little older than Evan and Connor. Evan keeps frowning and looking at the man, who doesn’t seem to notice. He’s too busy talking to Connor, and it seems to be an okay conversation. 

Connor’s smiling, at least. 

Evan is… definitely not. He looks nervous and worried and sad and young and Heidi’s heart aches for him, a little.

When Connor turns to say something to Evan, Evan’s whole expression changes. He plasters on a smile, tries to relax his shoulders, and for a moment he’s a totally different kid. Confident and sophisticated and… a whole different person. 

It’s almost scary, the way he can switch like that. 

The minute Connor turns back to talk to the man, Evan’s shoulders tense again. His face falls and he looks… so young. 

Heidi makes a decision. She heads over as subtly as she can, trying to make sure that she’s in Evan’s line of sight. Maybe it’ll calm him down a little. 

It seems to work. The minute he spots her, he seems to visibly relax. He offers her a smile and a small wave, this adorable little hand motion, and Heidi waves back, feeling a lot better about things.

* * *

Brian Harris is glaring at him. 

Full on death glare. 

If looks could kill, Evan would have dropped dead by now. 

It’s making him nervous, because the last thing he wants is to get into a fight right now. He’s absolutely fucking terrified of getting into a fight and ruining this whole night. 

But Brian smells like whisky and has a flask and is glaring at him, muttering to some guy next to him, and Evan can tell that something’s going to go down. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, it’s just his luck, fuck, he is about to ruin everything. 

Cause a goddamn scene at this stupid fucking fancy party. 

Evan looks over at Connor, trying to maybe get his attention, get his help with this, but Connor seems to be a little preoccupied now. 

With Reg. 

Reg, who goes to Harvard and has perfect teeth and a nice smile and cool shoes and is looking at Connor with obvious interest. 

Reg, who is making Connor laugh, making him smile, even though the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

They’re talking about how much they both hate skiing. 

Evan’s never even seen snow before. He has no fucking _idea_ how he feels about skiing. 

Fuck. 

“Hansen,” says a gruff voice. “You and me. Outside. Now.”

Fuck. 

He’d stopped paying attention, and now Brian Harris is right up in his business. 

“I think we’re both a little busy right now,” Evan says, fighting to keep his voice even, affecting a bored tone. 

Brian sneers at him. “You’re a fucking freak,” he spits out. “You don’t belong here and you stole my fucking date.”

Evan just stares at him. Inside, he’s freaking out, but he seems to have tapped into some kind of zen or calm or whatever. “Since when was Zoe your date?”

“She would have asked me,” Brian slurs, “if you hadn’t fucked everything up. You don’t fucking belong here, asshole, so why don’t you and Quitter just fuck right off?”

“Not gonna do that,” Evan replies, and fuck, it is so weird to hear his voice right now. How steady it is. 

He’s like a whole other person. 

Brian narrows his eyes. Steps back and takes a swing at Evan. 

In a move that surprises everyone, even him, Evan catches Brian’s fist in his hand.

Holds onto it with a tight grip and doesn’t let go. Brian looks furious and moves to try and punch him with his other hand, but he can’t quite manage to get his balance enough for it to land. 

Brian looks… small, all of a sudden. 

He’d seemed so big when Evan first got to town. 

Evan knows he’s put on a bit of weight, knows he’s bulked up a bit, but… 

Well. He wasn’t expecting this. 

“You’re drunk,” Evan says, his voice firm. “You’re drunk, and you’re being an idiot.” 

“Fuck you,” says Brian, lunging again for Evan, but the effect is almost comical, given that he’s all but being held in place. 

There’s a big guy in a suit there all of a sudden, taking Brian by the shoulders and muttering an apology to Evan. One of the other escorts nearby looks at Evan, his expression clearly impressed. 

“Nicely handled,” he says. “That guy’s a dick.”

“Who’s his date?” Evan asks, frowning a little. “He’s in no shape to escort her.”

“Me,” says a soft voice. Evan turns to see Sabrina Patel standing there in a white dress, her expression a weird mix of disappointed and relieved. “He’s been drunk since he got here,” she says, her shoulders sagging. “I mean, I know I wasn’t his first choice to escort, but still…”

“I got it,” says Connor, who Evan hadn’t even noticed had approached. Reg is at his side, and he’s eyeing Evan up with this calculating expression, like he’s trying to figure him out. Connor offers Sabrina a smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t leave you hanging. And between you and me, I’m a way better dancer.”

Sabrina smiles at Connor, this big toothpaste commercial smile. 

Evan finds himself unreasonably annoyed by it. 

She’s wasting her time, he thinks to himself. Connor’s gay. 

Given the way he’s looking at Connor, Evan thinks that Reg might be, too. 

Which is… fine. It’s fine. It’s probably, like, nice for Connor to have someone around he’s got something in common with. And god knows it must have been a huge pain in the ass for Connor to have to deal with Evan’s weird crush on Zoe so Evan’s got no leg to stand on here, but…

Who the hell is this Reg guy anyway?

Alana’s escort, apparently. 

Hanover alumni, Harvard sophomore. 

Stupidly pretty, and interested in Connor. 

Harvard’s a long way away. It’s not like Reg is going to be around all the time or anything. 

Evan’s being weird about this. He needs to just… knock it off. 

Focus on the job at hand. 

Focus on not embarrassing Zoe. Because Zoe’s his date tonight. Not Connor. 

Not that Connor would be his date, it’s just…

Fuck. 

He’s being so weird, fuck, he needs to fucking concentrate. 

It’s weird as fuck to describe some dude as ‘stupidly pretty’, too. He needs to get his _shit_ together, fucking hell. 

“Hey,” says Connor to Sabrina, looking around the room. “They go in alphabetical order, there’s time before they get to the Ps. Wanna do a quick run of the waltz in the hall? Just so it’s not, like, the first time we’ve ever done this when we get on the dance floor.”

Sabrina looks so fucking grateful. “I’m not much of a dancer,” she says. “And Brian kinda, like, just used it as an excuse to feel me up.”

Connor nods. “Gross. Okay. Well, no offense, but I have no interest in feeling you up, so… quick practice?”

Sabrina nods. “Okay.”

The two of them head off into the hall. Reg watches them go with obvious interest, then turns to Evan. “So,” he says casually. “Are you much of a dancer?”

Evan steadies his shoulders. “I can hold my own,” he lies through his teeth. 

Well. It might not be a lie. He doesn’t, like, completely suck. 

“Nice,” says Reg, smiling a little. He tilts his head. “So Connor. He’s your best friend?”

“Yeah,” says Evan immediately. 

Reg hmms thoughtfully. “He single?”

“Far as I know,” Evan replies, resisting the urge to punch this guy. 

Reg fixes him with a look. “Well. You would know.”

Evan looks him in the eye. “I would,” he says steadily. 

Reg smirks a little. Looks like he wants to say something.

Doesn’t. 

Evan fights back his annoyance. Stands there for a bit awkwardly with Reg, until someone comes to grab him and, like, take him to where he’s supposed to be or whatever. 

Then it’s just him. 

Connor’s out in the hallway with Sabrina, and Evan’s just standing here, feeling like a fraud. Like a complete and total fake.

* * *

Reg apparently _is_ interested. Or at least bored enough to pay attention to Connor. He casually mentions his involvement in a few LGBT organizations out East, name drops having met Larry Kramer, and all-too-casually asks Connor if he plans to attend Pride in San Francisco this summer. 

And somehow Connor starts talking about skiing. 

He doesn’t know why. Reg is making him nervous and stupid so first he says something about how he hates all the fake snowflakes in the room because it is a balmy sixty degrees outside and he starts talking about how he misses snow which is sort of a lie because it loses its appeal after a few months of it lingering on like a bad cold and then…

Skiing. 

“Oh, I _hate_ skiing,” Reg says. “Broke my arm when I was eleven skiing in Aspen. Worse winter of my life.”

Connor smiles and laughs a little. “Aspen is the worst,” Connor agrees. 

“The entirety of Colorado should just be released back to the wild,” Reg jokes and Connor laughs. “Let the bears and wolves take it over.”

“Wolves for the mayor of Denver,” Connor says back. “Sounds like fun.”

Reg starts responding, his voice gleeful, when Connor hears Evan’s voice. He sounds _pissed_. “Since when was Zoe your date?”

“She would have asked me,” Brian Harris slurs, his eyes narrow, his face ruddy and red, “if you hadn’t fucked everything up. You don’t fucking belong here, asshole, so why don’t you and Quitter just fuck right off?”

Seriously how the fuck did Connor’s name get dragged into this? He’s stayed the fuck away from Brian all night. Does Brian just blame Connor for every insignificant thing in his life or something? When he breaks a pencil does he mutter “Damn it, Quitter” to himself?

“Not gonna do that,” Evan says back and his voice is like. So calm. Unyielding. Like… diamond hard. 

Which is sort of precisely how Connor’s feeling because something about that voice Evan’s using goes right fucking through him. 

Brian stumbles back and takes a swing at Evan, and Connor’s preparing himself to jump in, to get involved and beat Brian’s face bloody for daring to touch him, but then Evan’s hand reaches out and he catches Brian’s fist in his hands. 

Like something out of a fucking Kung-Fu movie or something. 

Connor doesn’t know if he has ever been so turned on in his _entire life._

Brian keeps swinging, but Evan’s hold is tight and steady and it makes the moves entirely ineffective and Jesus if Evan were even the tiniest bit gay Connor would be dragging him off to find a closet to make out in, cotillion be damned. 

Fuck he really needs to get his shit together. 

Evan’s just… so hot like this. 

“You’re drunk,” says Evan, his voice still smooth and strong and unflinching. “You’re drunk, and you’re being an idiot.” 

“Fuck you,” Brian tries, still swinging, but it’s like watching a puppet try to fight its strings, it’s totally useless and Evan doesn’t even really look bothered, he just looks _bored_ and _fuck_ Connor really hopes that nobody is looking at his crotch right now. 

Fights should not bring out this reaction in him. 

Brian’s dragged off by his dad and a few of the other Newport dads, who mutter apologies to Evan as they take him out. 

“Who’s his date?” Evan asks, turning around. He’s frowning, because he cares, because he’s a decent fucking person he’s a good dude and he cares and he’s sexy as hell and seriously if anymore blood rushes to Connor’s dick he is _going_ to pass out. “He’s in no shape to escort her.”

“Me.” Connor’s head turns to see Sabrina Patel approaching. She has this sad expression on her face. “He’s been drunk since he got here. I mean, I know I wasn’t his first choice to escort, but still…” She trails off, and she looks so fucking crushed and Connor wishes someone would fucking do something because Sabrina is nice and doesn’t deserve this. 

Someone should do something. 

Zoe’s going to be so pissed if her best friend can’t debut with her. 

Wait. _Shit_. 

Connor’s someone. 

He’s literally here to be a backup escort. 

...If he escorts Sabrina, maybe his mom will get off his back. 

“I got it,” Connor says, stepping up and smiling at Sabrina. He can do this. This is something he can do. “Don’t worry, I won’t leave you hanging. And between you and me, I’m a way better dancer.”

Sabrina gives him this huge relieved smile. Connor smiles back wider. He always thought she was nice. 

He can do this. It’s not a big deal. Escort a girl. Make sure his sister’s not miserable, get his mom off of his back a little. 

Evan’s frowning. Connor’s not really sure what his deal is. He’s been weird all night, ever since Reg showed up. 

Oh. 

Connor feels his heart plummet. 

Right. 

Because a guy… Because a guy’s paying attention to Connor and Evan’s grossed out by it. That’s probably it. Connor can be gay in _theory,_ but in practice? 

He’s probably grossed out and disappointed like Connor’s mom is. 

Well. Probably just as well, seeing as Evan’s got such a huge thing for Zoe anyway. It’s stupid of Connor to expect him to still want to be friends once he makes it happen with Zoe. 

“Hey,” Connor says to Sabrina. “They go in alphabetical order, there’s time before they get to the Ps. Wanna do a quick run of the waltz in the hall? Just so it’s not, like, the first time we’ve ever done this when we get on the dance floor.”

Sabrina looks like she could cry, she’s so relieved. “I’m not much of a dancer,” Sabrina says softly. “And Brian kinda, like, just used it as an excuse to feel me up.”

Connor nods, feeling bad for her. She doesn’t deserve that shit. That’s… awful. “Gross. Okay. Well, no offense, but I have no interest in feeling you up, so… quick practice?”

Sabrina nods. “Okay.”

They head out into the empty hallway and run through the waltz. The first run, Connor sort of awkwardly hums the song they practiced to in the rehearsals the day before. Sabrina seems super nervous and a little unsteady on her feet. “You okay? He asks her. He’s not _that_ bad at dancing. 

“Just… dizzy,” Sabrina confesses with a frown. “I haven’t eaten anything in like. A week.”

“Here,” Connor says, pulling out the bag of almonds Evan has stashed in his tux’s pocket. 

Sabrina takes a few gratefully. She pops some in her mouth and then gives Connor a weirdly lopsided smile. 

"What?”

“I was just thinking about how embarrassing it would be if I choked on nuts at my debut.”

He cracks up laughing. Sabrina’s okay, he decides. 

When Sabrina feels steadier on her feet, they run through the waltz once more. “Okay,” Connor says, trying to smile. “You good? You feeling okay about it all?”

“I am,” Sabrina says and Connor smiles.

* * *

Connor is a good dancer, Sabrina finds out. 

He has good rhythm. Leads well. Knows what he’s doing and makes the whole thing kind of effortless on Sabrina’s part, which is good because she’s not exactly strong at this. 

He’s also not trying to touch her ass or staring down her top, so she’s counting that as a win. She’s dizzy as fuck, though, and genuinely feels like she’s about to pass out, so she’s focusing less on the dancing and more on not… swooning or whatever. 

“You okay?” Connor asks after a while, frowning slightly. 

Sabrina feels her vision blur a little. “Just… dizzy,” she confesses. “I haven’t eaten anything in like. A week.”

Connor immediately reaches into his tux pocket and produces a bag of almonds. “Here,” he says, offering them to her. 

Fuck. Solid food. 

Sabrina takes a couple of nuts and chews them carefully. The last thing she needs is to choke. 

On nuts. 

Oh god. 

She can’t help it, she smiles at the thought. 

“What?” asks Connor, looking confused. 

Sabrina doesn’t know what possesses her to tell him. “I was just thinking about how embarrassing it would be if I choked on nuts at my debut.”

Connor looks at her for a moment, then cracks up laughing. It’s that same high laugh that makes him seem like a kid, and Sabrina thinks it’s nice. 

It takes a while, but they have another go at the dance. “Okay,” Connor says once they’ve done a bit of a practice. “You good? You feeling okay about it all?”

“I am,” Sabrina says, and she’s a little shocked to realize she actually means it. 

It’s so weird, being out here with Connor. She doesn’t think she’s ever really spent one on one time with him like this. There was that brief moment in the Murphys’ kitchen the other day, but that was nothing compared to dance practice to no music in an empty hall. 

Connor’s being… really fucking nice to her. 

Really nice. 

Considering all the things Zoe says about her brother, it’s… surprising. She hadn’t expected Connor to be so nice. 

Maybe Zoe should give him more of a chance. 

“Thank you,” Sabrina says, looking him straight in the eye. “It’s really decent of you to help me like this.”

Connor’s cheeks color. “My mom said I had to do the whole white knight thing,” he mumbles, clearly embarrassed. “Plus, you’re, like… you’re one of Zoe’s best friends? And I don’t want to ruin the whole cotillion thing for her.” He clears his throat. “She’d be super bummed if you didn’t have an escort and couldn’t do the whole thing.” He smiles a little. “And, you know, you should get to have your frilly meringue moment or whatever. You look… really lovely.”

Sabrina weirdly feels like crying. Connor’s eyes widen in alarm. He looks like he’s about to apologize, but she gets in first. 

“I didn’t really get a choice in this whole debut thing?” she confesses. “My mom worked super hard to get enough society brownie points so they let me do this, but… it wasn’t for me. It was for her. For her reputation.” 

It’s the first time she’s ever said that out loud.

It feels good to say it. 

Connor looks at her. He blinks. He looks… sad. 

“I get it,” he says after a moment. “I get… that. Not exactly that, but… my mom’s pretty fucking concerned about her reputation, too.” His cheeks color even more, the tips of his ears going red. “I embarrass her? A lot? I’m not…” He sighs. “I’m not, like, good at the thing where you pretend you belong, and she knows that and kind of… hates me for it?”

“Your mom doesn’t hate you,” Sabrina says immediately, because it’s what you say. 

Connor doesn’t argue, but doesn’t look convinced either. 

There’s a loud noise from the ballroom. Connor looks at Sabrina, then they peek in through the back to see that Alana Beck is standing there with her escort, having seemingly produced a megaphone from thin air. 

“Debutante balls are outdated, misogynistic and degrading, not to mention detrimental to the mental health of young women! We are not here to be paraded around like cattle, women are not for your consumption!”

“Whoo!” Connor calls out from beside Sabrina. She turns to see that he’s grinning widely, the look on his face genuinely delighted. 

It takes less than a minute for someone to wrangle Alana off the stage and out of the building. Sabrina can see how embarrassed Alana’s mom is from here. 

Connor looks at Sabrina, still with this big smile on his face. “Alana’s _awesome_ ,” he says, something fond in his voice. 

“She is,” says Sabrina, a pang in her chest. “We were, like, best friends when we were kids.”

Connor’s smile fades. He looks like he remembers. “You were,” he says, nodding. “I remember, you were always together.” He looks a little pained. “You guys drifted apart?”

Sabrina swallows. “No,” she admits. “Not really.” She can’t look at Connor. “Do you, uh, do you remember in middle school when Alana came out?”

“Yeah,” says Connor, his voice cautious. 

“My mom told me I couldn’t be friends with her anymore,” Sabrina confesses quietly. “I… I shouldn’t have listened to her, but my mom is kind of…” She lets out a shaky breath. “She won’t be ignored.”

She finally looks at Connor to see he looks genuinely upset. “Yeah,” he says after a moment. “I get that, too.”

* * *

Zoe is nervous. 

Alana Beck has made an absolute spectacle of this event already so people will be watching more carefully to make sure nobody else attempts something as embarrassing. 

Sabrina has disappeared. 

She said she was going to check in with Brian and hasn’t come back. She doesn’t see Evan anywhere and she’s pretty sure her heart is going to leap right out of her chest. 

Her mom had made the jump to scotch when Zoe last saw her. She had kissed Zoe’s cheek (well more like bumped her cheek against Zoe’s because she couldn’t risk their makeup) and told her to make her proud. 

Like the pressure isn’t enough already. 

Zoe’s knees are shaking a little. She’s terrified. The two minutes she is on the stage will have huge implications for her future. 

Why didn’t she just wait until summer?

She’s not ready. She’s not ready to come out to society. She’s sixteen. Barely. She’s not a young woman, she’s a kid playing dress up. A few weeks ago her hair was streaked with blue. 

What is the matter with her? Why did she think this was a good idea? 

Zoe’s genuinely debating making a run for it when she spots her dad in his tux heading toward her. “Hey sweetheart,” he says with a big, soft smile. He leans in and kisses her on the cheek. A real one, not a strange cheek bump. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she says miserably. 

“Can’t believe how grown up you are,” he says suddenly. His voice is tight and rough. “It seems like yesterday you were making up songs about cake at your communion party.”

Zoe frowns. “That was Connor’s party,” she says softly. 

“Oh. Right.” He frowns unhappily. 

Zoe rolls her eyes. 

“You ready for this?” Her dad asks, offering her his arm. Zoe loops hers through it. Zoe realizes just how much she’s been avoiding him lately. His hair is shorter. He’s had it cut. 

“Don’t let me fall, okay?” She says suddenly. 

Her dad smiles at her, this soft and kind of sad smile. “I’ve got you. Don’t worry.”

And then it’s time. 

Zoe grips her dad’s arm tightly. She hears, “Presenting Zoe Murphy.”

She pastes on a smile and her dad leads her out to be presented to the crowd to a polite smattering of applause. Zoe’s eyes seek out her mom. She’s standing up at a table. From this distance, Zoe thinks her eyes might be tearful. She dismisses it as a trick of the light when she looks back again. Her mother would never cry in public. The only time Zoe remembers it happening was when she got a little misty eyed at David’s funeral. 

Her dad leads her to the center of the dance floor. He kisses her hand. Zoe smiles at him. 

And then Evan is standing in front of her. 

He looks totally different. Confident and smiling with perfect posture and gloves on. 

He bows. 

Zoe curtsies. 

There’s more clapping as Evan offers his arm and leads her toward the other debs. 

She catches him smiling at her. She smiles back. “Y-you look amazing,” he whispers as he deposits her with the rest of the girls. 

“Thank you,” she whispers back. 

It’s not so bad. 

Nearly over in fact. 

Not so bad. 

Sabrina’s presented a moment later on her dad’s arm. She looks amazing. Her dress is easily one of the most expensive in the entire room. 

Her dad leads her to the center and Connor appears to escort her. 

What?

Brian is supposed to be her escort. That’s what they planned. 

This is not what they decided. 

Why is Sabrina beaming at Connor like that? What the _fuck?_

Zoe leans over to Evan. “What happened to Brian?” She asks him. 

His face clouds over. 

“Tell you later,” he mutters in a low voice. 

Connor bows and totally unnecessarily kisses the hand Sabrina extends to him. Zoe can hear her laugh quietly. 

Even in his brand new tux, even without the nail polish and with his hair pulled back, Connor looks like a skinny idiot next to Sabrina. Why the fuck is he doing this? Is he just determined to wreck this evening for Zoe? Brian is going to be fucking pissed. 

Connor escorts Sabrina across the room and Zoe is livid. She tries to catch Sabrina’s eye but she’s not looking at Zoe. She’s looking out at the crowd and smiling, hesitant at first but then brighter and wider. Zoe half expects her to wave like the fucking queen or something. 

Why would she pick _Connor_ as a last minute escort? There were at least five other guys all waiting around just in case. 

But Zoe can’t really worry about it for long because then the first dance is announced and Evan’s leading her toward the dance floor. 

“You got this?” Zoe says. She meant it as encouragement but it comes out a question. 

Evan’s smile falters slightly. “Y-yeah.”

The song starts and Evan seems to know what he’s doing. His steps are perfect and precise and exactly how they practiced. They’re positioned right near the band playing their accompaniment, so Zoe can hardly hear anything but Evan’s got his hand on her waist and he seems sturdy and determined and it’s alright. 

Zoe relaxes a little. 

She thinks she can hear Sabrina giggling across the room as she dances with Connor. He’s obviously leading and she’s happily being led and Zoe wants to scream but she doesn’t know why but she is furious. The song comes to an end and there some applause and people are starting to disperse but Evan doesn’t let Zoe go so they keep dancing a little, less formal but still dancing and Zoe gives him a smile, about to say how glad she is that he agreed to be her escort. 

And then Zoe hears a commotion coming from the bar. Her mother is basically shouting. 

“...embarrass _myself_? When would I have time to embarrass myself when everyone else around me is doing it for me?”

Zoe stutters to a stop. The whole dance floor has heard it. The band keeps playing and Zoe looks at Evan who looks horribly confused and she can only hear snatches of what her mother is shouting. She hears her name and “my husband” and a huge pit opens up in her stomach. Most people stop dancing and stare toward the bar. Across the room, Sabrina and Connor are both looking at each other, stone faced and pale. 

The band keeps playing and everyone watches on as Cynthia Murphy makes a spectacle of herself and slaps Heidi Herzberg across the face.

* * *

Heidi had forgotten how damn _long_ cotillion was. It takes fucking forever to present all the debutantes, and she loses interest once Zoe’s had her moment in the spotlight and Evan’s escorted her. He does very well, Heidi thinks. Carries himself with confidence, doesn’t look nervous at all. 

She knows it’s a front. She knows how nervous he is. 

Still, he’s doing a very good job. 

Anyone who didn’t know better would think he belonged. 

That’s… a strange feeling. 

David was like that. This strange mixture of insider and outsider. He never felt like he fit in, and maybe when he was a kid he didn’t, but as an adult, it all seemed so effortless, especially to Heidi. He knew this place inside out. He knew what to do and what to say and who to talk to and who not to talk to in a way that Heidi still doesn’t have a handle on after nearly twenty years. It all seemed easy. 

He loved this community. Loved the people. Even if there were things he hated about it. 

A part of Heidi knows that David would hate the way Cynthia’s been behaving since he died. Another part wonders if he’d just make an excuse for her. The way he always did. 

Heidi never wanted to be the person who was jealous about her husband’s ex. She never wanted to be that person. And most of the time, she wasn’t. She knew David loved her. Knew that his feelings for Cynthia were platonic. 

But Cynthia just… 

She never seemed interested in letting go. 

Which made no fucking sense, and still doesn’t. She broke up with David in high school, multiple times. She and Larry were married by the time Heidi showed up. She was pregnant with Connor when Heidi and David announced their engagement, and Connor was born two months before the wedding. 

Heidi knows David was faithful, despite the rumors going around about Zoe being his kid when she was in middle school. Knows, deep in her gut, that David was always hers. 

Cynthia just never saw it that way. 

Not long after Zoe and Evan, Sabrina Patel comes out with Connor as her escort, which is a bit of a surprise. Heidi had heard he was doing the whole ‘in case of emergency’ escort thing, but hadn’t actually expected him to end up escorting someone. 

Connor looks completely different in his tux with his hair pulled back. 

He’s still too skinny, but the tux is cut in a way that makes it less obvious. It just makes him look very tall, like he’s basically 80% leg. 

It’s a good look for him, Heidi decides. 

Sabrina looks nervous, a little stunned, like she’s not really sure what she’s doing, and Heidi notices that Connor takes the lead in getting her where she needs to be once she’s on his arm. 

Heidi didn’t even know they really knew each other, Sabrina and Connor. 

She chances a look over at Cynthia, who’s at the bar, blatantly not even looking as Connor does what’s expected of him in polite society. 

As he does something his mother forced him to do. 

Heidi fights down the urge to walk over and give Cynthia a piece of her mind. 

There are… so many debutantes. So many. They just keep coming, an endless sea of white tulle, and it’s all very nice and very safe. The only thing that was vaguely interesting the entire night was when Alana Beck pulled out a megaphone from under her dress and started giving a speech about how outdated cotillion was. 

Heidi has to admit, she wanted very badly to applaud. 

Finally, fucking finally, the kids are all doing a waltz. Evan’s got his arm steady on Zoe’s waist, his shoulders held back straight, mimicking the actions of the others around him, the kids who’ve been nagged about their posture since they were tiny. 

He’s… very good at that. 

He’s a very good mimic. 

Heidi tries to ignore the worry that thought brings. 

Connor and Sabrina are surprisingly good, Heidi notices. Smooth and practiced, which is strange considering that she knows Connor is a back-up escort. Connor leads well and Sabrina seems grateful and she’s actually smiling, seems much more relaxed. 

Heidi chances a look at Lisa Patel, who seems to be trying to start up a conversation with Cynthia. Probably about how her daughter and Cynthia’s son are doing well dancing together or whatever. 

Lisa Patel has always hated her, Heidi is well aware. She’s local, having grown up in Orange County, but it wasn’t until she married Aaron that she managed to fight her way up the social ladder to be tolerated by the cream of society. Aaron’s family comes from money, - it’s not California money, so there’s a level of suspicion, but it’s still money, and that’s what these people care about. 

It must drive Lisa absolutely insane that she’s spent most of her life trying to find a way into society, but Heidi waltzed right in and married one of Newport Beach’s most eligible bachelors without any leg work. 

Cynthia is drinking what looks like scotch. She laughs at something Lisa says, this harsh, almost mocking laugh, then lurches forward and tips the entire glass down Lisa’s cleavage. 

Lisa freezes, her eyes going wide. 

She looks like she can’t figure out what to do. 

Fuck. 

Heidi steadies her shoulders. Heads over to see if she can do some damage control. 

“Lisa, hi,” she says with a smile. “I’ve got some wet wipes in my purse if you wanted to try to get some of that out.”

Lisa looks murderous. “That’s kind,” she says, in a voice that implies it absolutely is not, “but I’ve got this, thanks.”

She strides off, and Heidi turns to the bartender. “Can I get a glass of water for my friend here?” she asks quietly. 

Cynthia turns to look at Heidi, and Heidi gets a proper look at her up close. 

Her stomach churns. 

She’s never seen Cynthia this drunk. Never. Her hair is falling out of its elaborate updo, her makeup is smudged and she’s just… 

Sloppy drunk, Heidi realizes with a sinking feeling. 

This is bad. She doesn’t usually let herself be seen in public like this. 

Fuck. 

“Oh, look who it is, everyone!” Cynthia announces to the people surrounding them. “It’s Heidi Homewrecker! Isn’t it so nice of her to come along and bring her trashy nephew to put his filthy hands all over my daughter?”

Heidi can barely contain the rage that rises up in her. She takes the water from the bartender and offers it to Cynthia. “Okay,” she says immediately. “Let’s go get you some fresh air.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Cynthia says firmly, and the crowd is starting to notice because not only is she being super loud, she’s still Cynthia Nichols, millionaire heiress who owns half the fucking real estate in town, thanks to her dear departed daddy. “I organized this whole event, I’m not going anywhere. _You_ should go. You don’t belong here.”

The formal dancing is over, Heidi notices in dismay, and the debutantes and their escorts are starting to disperse into the crowd, and a scene is the last thing anyone needs right now. 

“Cynthia, come on,” she says quietly. “You don’t want to embarrass yourself.”

“I don’t want to embarrass _myself_?” Cynthia repeats loudly. “When would I have time to embarrass myself when everyone else around me is doing it for me?” She takes a long swig of her scotch, then continues. “My family is a fucking joke and they’re all trying to humiliate me. Connor refuses to be normal, insists on being a faggot just to spite me. And Zoe, who’s supposed to be the normal one, won’t stop stuffing her face and whoring herself out to your retarded nephew.” 

Oh, hell no. There is no way Heidi’s letting that stand. She goes to say something, but Cynthia continues on. “And my _husband_ is all of a sudden spending all of his spare time with _you_.”

What. The. Fuck.

Heidi is _done_ playing nice here. “Excuse me?”

Cynthia jabs her in the chest with her middle finger. It feels like the whole ballroom is watching by now. “You’re a whore, Heidi Herzberg. You came into town and stole David away from me and now that he’s dead, you want my husband? You’re not having him. He’s mine.”

“I don’t want your husband,” Heidi says immediately. 

“Then why are the two of you constantly talking?” Cynthia demands. “Constantly having lunch and catching up? What the fuck is going on with you?”

“We’ve been friends and colleagues for nearly twenty years,” Heidi says, her voice even. “And this is not an appropriate place to be having this discussion. Not while you’re this drunk.”

“He was mine first,” Cynthia slurs. “David was mine first, and then you came along and you _stole_ him and you let him die.”

Heidi is not going to cry. She is not going to let this woman make her fucking cry. 

“Cynthia,” says a quiet voice. Heidi sees that Larry’s trying to intervene. “Sweetheart, let’s get you some air.”

“Don’t you fucking tell me what to do!” Cynthia snaps. “You’re just some nobody from New Hampshire, don’t even think for a _second_ you get to tell me what to do!”

“Is there a problem here?” says one of the security guards, frowning a little. 

Cynthia lets out this incredulous laugh. “You’re joking, right? What use is it paying for security if you’re going after the wrong people and you can’t keep a sixteen year old from doing some kind of bullshit political protest?”

“Ma’am, I need to ask you to calm down-”

“I am the one _paying_ you, you idiot!” Cynthia hisses. “I organized this event, it wouldn’t even be running without me.”

“Cynthia,” Heidi says firmly. “You’re making a scene. Get some air.”

Cynthia turns to face her straight on, her face ugly with fury. 

Heidi barely has time to react before Cynthia’s hand collides with her face. 

Cynthia is not pulling her punches, it seems, and her engagement ring is so huge that Heidi can feel it colliding against her cheekbone, can feel the sting and suspects that she might have actually drawn blood. 

The security guard has her arms behind her back in seconds and escorts her out of the room. Cynthia’s kicking and screaming and shouting abuse and everyone is looking, every single person here is looking and fuck, fuck, this is bad, this is really, really bad. 

Larry looks at Heidi, his face white. “I am so sorry,” he says, then follows after the security guard and his screaming wife. 

“You’re bleeding,” says a concerned voice, and Evan’s at her side, and he seems to have grabbed a cloth napkin and some ice from somewhere because soon he’s guiding her to a seat and holding ice to her cheek gently, and he looks so, so concerned and Heidi wants to tell him it’s fine, tell him to stop worrying, but…

She’s shaken. 

She’s genuinely shaken. 

She looks around the room. On the left side of the room, Zoe’s heading to the patio, clearly trying to get away from the chaos that’s just occured. 

On the right hand side of the room, Connor’s saying something to Sabrina, then quickly walking toward the men’s room, his head low, like he’s trying to make sure no one sees him. 

Evan doesn’t notice either of them. He’s too focused on Heidi, holding the ice to her face and looking at her with big, scared eyes. 

“Zoe went out to the patio,” she says quietly. “You’re her escort. I think she might need a bit of emotional support right now.”

“You’re bleeding,” Evan repeats, looking even more freaked out. 

“The ice is helping,” Heidi says softly. “It’s okay, Evan. You go. I’m alright.”

Evan doesn’t budge.

“Evan,” she tries again. “Sweetheart.”

“You’re _hurt_ ,” Evan says weakly. “I…”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Heidi assures him. “What just happened must have been pretty tough on Zoe. Go talk to her. Cheer her up a bit.”

Evan blinks. Looks so hesitant. 

But nods. This tiny nod. 

Before he gets up, he throws an arm around Heidi and gives her a quick hug. “I won’t be long,” he promises, then stands up and heads out to the patio.

* * *

Connor’s ears are ringing like he had been the one who got slapped in front of everyone. His mom just… she just slapped Heidi in front of everyone, she got taken out of here by security, she… 

He needs to go. 

Sabrina is looking at him, her eyes huge, and she asks if he’s okay but obviously, _obviously_ he is not okay he refuses to be normal, insists on being a faggot just to spite his mother.

“Look, I gotta -” Connor mumbles, not able to even look at her.

She tries to say something else but Connor takes off. He needs to go he needs to go he needs to go. 

He spots the mens’ restroom and decides it’s the safest place to be right now because dudes don’t fucking follow each other into the bathroom. Connor locks himself in a stall, breathing unevenly, still stunned. His hands are shaking. 

_“Connor refuses to be normal, insists on being a faggot just to spite me.”_

He’s done a lot of things just to spite his mother, it’s true. 

Worn eyeliner and nail polish. 

Dressed in all black, refused to wear the clothes she’s bought for him. 

She’s at least half right. 

Though he’s never, like, deliberately done any gay shit with her in mind. 

_“Connor refuses to be normal, insists on being a faggot just to spite me.”_

The words echo around in his head, repeating and reverberating, like a slap, like a bell ringing because you can’t unring a bell once you’ve rung it. You can try to stop it ringing, you can dampen the noise, but it still reverberates out. 

Connor’s face is hot and embarrassed and wet and he hates himself for caring about this so much. Hates himself entirely. 

His mom is embarrassed of him. 

She’s gone and embarrassed herself now too. Because of him, at least in part. 

She’s ashamed of him. She hates him she hates him she hates him. 

Connor’s mouth keeps tugging into a frown. He bites his lip to try and stop it, but it keeps happening, like an eye twitch, like a tremor. 

Like him liking guys. 

He’s tried to stop it. God knows he’s tried. 

Fuck he even tried tonight. He danced with Sabrina Patel, acted as her knight in shining whatever, kissed her hand and escorted her like a gentleman is supposed to do but. 

Like an eye twitch. Like a tremor. Like the sun coming up or the tide rolling in or the hot tears that manage to escape and settle on his cold cheeks, there are some things you just can’t control. 

Connor’s running out of things he can control. 

He unpins the flower stuck to his lapel. It’s sharp enough. He promised Evan, but Evan’s not fucking here, he’s gone after Zoe probably. 

He scratches the inside of his wrist until the skin is hot and stinging. Until little beads of blood rise to the surface. 

It’s not enough. 

He’s running out of things he can control. 

Connor hangs his jacket on the back of the door. Unties his tie. Stuffs his cufflinks into his pocket and then rolls up his sleeves. 

Sticks his fingers down his throat until he gags, until he’s heaving, because there’s one fucking thing he still has a say in here and and it’s this. 

This is what he’s reduced to. 

This is all he can control. 

He feels a little better once he’s done. Shakier but more solid. Wiped clean of all of the messiness and rage inside of him. 

There’s a soft knock on the stall door. 

For a moment, Connor’s heart leaps. Someone came after him? Someone came to find him? In the seconds before he opens the door, Connor is certain it’s Evan, positive he’ll see his best friend who will say something kind and take care of him and…

It’s not Evan. 

It’s Reg. His face looks ashen and worried and he looks a bit awkward when Connor stares him down. “You alright?” Reg asks softly. 

“Do I look alright?” Connor mutters. 

Reg gives him a sad smile and holds out a glass of water. “I’m so sorry about what happened.” 

Yeah. Connor’s sorry too. 

He takes the water. Drinks as much as he can before his hands are too shaky and unsteady to hold onto the glass anymore. Reg takes the glass back and Connor thanks him softly. He didn’t have to be _decent._ Connor almost wishes that he weren’t. 

“I’m just gonna wash my face,” Connor says, heading to the sink. He splashes cold water on himself until his cheeks and eyelids and lips all feel cold, then he wipes it all dry with a paper towel. Some hair has fallen back onto his face. He doesn’t care. He rinses out his mouth. 

“Here,” Reg says. He’s holding out a stick of gum. 

Connor’s confused for a second. 

“I heard you,” Reg says, sounding apologetic. “I didn’t mean to intrude, I…” 

“It’s okay,” Connor says. 

Reg frowns deeply. His eyes look darker now. Sadder. “I was more of a go-to-the-gym-and-run-seven-miles-for-every-fry sort of guy,” He says. “But I suppose throwing up saves some time.”

Connor stares at him. 

“We all have our things.” 

Connor takes the gum and starts chewing. His jaw feels exhausted from the effort, but Connor pushes through. 

Reg loops an arm around Connor then, solid and warm, and Connor doesn’t shrug him off or lean into it. He just stands there, his brain still ringing, _“Connor refuses to be normal, insists on being a faggot just to spite me.”_

“Do you want to get out of here?” Reg asks him then. “I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. You name it, we’re there.”

“Even Aspen?” Connor jokes weakly. 

“If you really want that,” Reg says with a smile. He squeezes Connor’s shoulder, pulls him in a little bit closer. “Were you out then? To people around here?”

Connor shrugs, shaking his head. “I guess I am now.”

Reg nods sympathetically. “Let’s go somewhere. I’m serious. This whole thing has been a nightmare. We should get you out of here.”

Connor sighs. “I can’t think of anywhere to go.” He can’t think of anywhere he’d even be allowed after tonight. And technically speaking he’s still grounded. 

“We’ll find something,” Reg says. “Come on. Go somewhere with me. It’s got to be better than here, right?”

* * *

Zoe’s on the patio, sitting on a bench looking out into the night. It’s not cold, exactly, but Evan can see that she’s shivering a little, which makes sense given that she’s in a sleeveless dress. She has her arms wrapped around herself protectively. 

It reminds him of Connor. 

“Hey,” he says gently as he approaches. He slips off his jacket, then puts it over her shoulders. She mumbles a thank you, then shifts so he can join her on the bench. 

Evan stands next to her and follows her gaze. 

They’re high up enough that they can see the ocean. 

Evan can’t hear the waves, but he can see them. 

“So my mom spent all this time telling me not to embarrass her,” Zoe says after a moment, her tone flat. “And then she goes and does this. Gets completely wasted in front of everyone.” 

“I’m s-sorry,” Evan says quietly. “This was supposed to b-be your night.”

Zoe looks at him all of a sudden. Her eyelashes are wet, tears threatening to spill, and her nose is a little pink. “I thought this would be good,” she confesses. “I thought that making my debut would make my mom happy, make her… less fucking miserable. But it just made everything worse.”

Evan swallows uncomfortably. “She’s, uh… she’s clearly having a hard time with… something,” he says, trying to be diplomatic even though he has, like, zero sympathy for Mrs. Murphy and her rich white lady problems. 

Especially since she called Evan _retarded_ in front of a room full of people. 

He doesn’t especially feel like bringing that up right now, though. 

Zoe blinks. The tears do fall now. “She’s been a mess since Uncle David died,” she says, her voice small. “But that’s not an excuse for how she talked to Aunt Heidi.”

The familial language kind of stops Evan in his tracks. “You call them Aunt and Uncle?”

Zoe’s cheeks flush. “I did when I was little,” she mumbles. “Connor stopped when he was, like, 13 and I just went along with him, I…” Her shoulders sag. “Both my parents are only children. Heidi and David were the only aunt and uncle I had.” She looks at Evan, something helpless in her expression. “I’m so sorry. Your aunt didn’t deserve that. Is she okay?”

“She’ll be fine,” Evan says, even as his own heartbeat still hasn’t calmed down from the terror and anger of seeing Heidi injured. “She wanted me to come check on you.”

Zoe blinks again. There are tears flowing down her face properly now, smudging her makeup. “She did?”

“Yeah.”

Zoe takes in a shaky breath. “I thought she hated me.”

Evan shakes his head. “No,” he says quietly. “She doesn’t.”

“I was a total jerk about her,” Zoe says forlornly. “After my birthday party-”

“She doesn’t hate you,” Evan says firmly.

He doesn’t think Heidi has the capacity to hate anyone. 

Zoe lets out this sad laugh. “I can’t believe she did that. My mom would never cause such a scene in public, she’s completely losing her grip.”

Evan feels something in his chest clench. “She’s been drinking,” he says quietly. “That much is obvious.”

Zoe screws up her nose. “Everyone drinks around here.”

“Does she usually drink that much?” Evan asks, as gently as he can. 

Zoe hesitates. Her shoulders sag. “She never used to.”

Evan nods. Lets out a small sigh. “Maybe… maybe she needs some kind of help with that,” he suggests carefully. “I’m not an expert, but. I’ve seen it before?”

Fuck. 

Fuck, he shouldn’t have said that, because Zoe’s eyes are wide and questioning and Evan is a fucking idiot, because now she’s going to think he’s a total psycho. 

He’s just…

He’s seen addicts in his time. Got pulled out of a foster home because of the mother’s coke problem when he was ten. 

Evan didn’t realize it when he was little, but he’s pretty sure his mom self-medicated, too. It didn’t make her angry, though, just… sad. 

She was always so, so sad. 

“Everyone around here ends up in rehab eventually,” says Zoe bitterly. “Connor’s been to rehab.”

Evan tries not to let it show that this is news to him. 

Zoe’s looking at his face intently. Evan just nods, like he knows, and the searching look on her face fades a little. 

She looks… so sad. 

Evan puts his arm around her and they just… sit for a while. Evan’s mind is running wild, all over the place with thoughts. 

Connor was in rehab? Did Evan know this? He knows that Connor did a lot of drugs freshman year, but he’s not sure he knew about rehab. It doesn’t change anything, of course, Connor’s still his best friend, one of the most important people in his life, it’s just…

He didn’t know. 

Connor knows basically everything about Evan. Is the only person around here who does. And Evan didn’t know. 

Evan’s always liked that Connor’s real with him, that he doesn’t pretend, doesn’t play at being someone he’s not, but tonight…

Tonight, Connor’s done a damn good job of fitting in, with his slicked back hair and unpainted nails and tuxedo that makes him look like he’s basically all leg. He looks like he belongs, looks like he fits in and Evan knows that’s because he does. Because he was born into this. He might not fit in a hundred percent of the time, but he’ll always be better at it than Evan. 

Evan kept catching glimpses of Connor dancing with Sabrina, all through the stupid waltz, and it had made his stomach twist a little, because he’d just looked so natural. 

And Evan had felt like an outsider, like he was observing the whole thing from behind a pane of glass. 

Like any moment, someone would come and escort him out, because he doesn’t fucking belong here. 

“Can I get you anything?” Evan asks Zoe after a moment. “Water or something?”

Zoe shakes her head. “No, thank you,” she says quietly. “I think I just need to be alone for a while.”

Evan nods, getting the picture. He needs to check on Connor. Thanks to the band, Evan didn’t hear half of what Mrs. Murphy was saying, only the bit where she was calling Evan retarded and accusing Heidi of sleeping with Larry, but he knows how bad things have been between Connor and his mom. 

This has got to be hard for him. Evan should check on him. 

He stands up to leave. 

Zoe grabs his hand. 

He looks at her questioningly. 

“I can be alone with you here,” she says, her cheeks flushing a little. “Stay?”

Evan hasn’t got the heart to refuse her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Time to Dance" by Panic! at the Disco.
> 
> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! at the Disco.


	24. I’m Sleeping My Way Out Of This One With Anyone Who Will Lie Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few kisses. Nobody here is in love.

It becomes obvious Connor isn’t coming back pretty soon, and Sabrina doesn’t exactly want to hover around the dance floor like an idiot, so she wanders around the edge of the room for a while, trying to find Zoe. 

Last she saw, Zoe was dancing with Evan, and they were near the band, so maybe Zoe didn’t hear what her mom said. 

Sabrina really, really hopes she didn’t hear it. 

She makes her way around the edge of the room slowly, occasionally stopping to talk to people who want to talk and make boring conversation. She wants to blow them off, but she can feel her mother’s eyes on her from across the room, staring her down, and she doesn’t dare make a scene. 

Zoe’s nowhere to be seen. 

Sabrina considers heading back to the dressing room to see if Zoe’s ended up out there when something catches her eye. She looks out to the patio to see a familiar head of blonde hair. 

She moves closer, only to realize that Zoe’s not alone. 

Zoe’s wearing Evan’s jacket. He has his arm around her. 

As Sabrina watches, Zoe lays her head on Evan’s shoulder. 

That…

Fuck. 

That hurts, why does that  _ hurt?  _

It…

It genuinely feels like she’s being stabbed, standing here looking at Zoe curled up against Evan, and why does it hurt, why does it  _ hurt _ , Sabrina should be  _ happy  _ for her. 

Zoe’s been obsessed with Evan since he first arrived just before school started. 

Sabrina… 

She needs to be a better friend about this. Be a friend, just a friend, not anything fucking  _ weird _ , not all tied up in knots about how Zoe kisses her when no one’s watching, touches her, makes her feel beautiful. 

Sabrina’s not stupid. 

She knows that this isn’t…

That she and Zoe aren’t...

It’s just fun. That’s what Zoe keeps saying, it’s just fun. 

They’re not…

She’s not…

Sabrina hurries away before they see her. Heads for the dressing area, feeling like she’s dangerously close to tears, when all of a sudden her mother has her arm. 

“What happened to Brian?” her mom demands. “Why wasn’t he escorting you?”

“He was drunk,” Sabrina explains. “Connor stepped in-”

“Connor’s mother just made a huge scene,” her mom hisses, clearly angry. “It’s all anyone can talk about. How does it look that you were escorted by her son? That you’re friends with her daughter?”

Sabrina genuinely feels like she could scream. 

Just open her mouth and start screaming and never stop. 

“It’s not Connor’s fault,” she says icily. “Or Zoe’s. Mrs. Murphy is responsible for herself.”

“And she ruined your debut,” says Sabrina’s mom. There’s a vein in her forehead that looks like it’s going to explode. “All that work, all that money, and Cynthia Murphy has to make a scene and ruin the whole damn evening.”

Sabrina’s stomach hurts. She’s dizzy and she’s hungry and the almonds she ate earlier did nothing for her and she thinks she might faint. 

She blinks and holds herself steady until the moment passes. 

Her mom is still ranting and raving and talking about how everything’s ruined and Sabrina just…

She cannot right now. 

“I need the bathroom,” she mutters, and heads as far away from her mother as she can get. 

Sabrina heads to the dressing area. Packs up all her shit in the bag she brought with her. Debates getting changed but honestly, she’s nowhere near steady enough on her feet right now. 

Dammit. 

_ Dammit.  _

She hasn’t eaten in nearly a week and everything hurts and she’s cranky and shaky and she’s so angry at her mother for being a vapid social climber. So angry at Cynthia Murphy for saying such fucking hurtful things about her children. 

So angry at Evan Hansen for having his arm around Zoe and giving her his jacket. 

Sabrina throws on her own soft worn denim jacket, grabs the bag that’s full of way too much shit and heads out of the dressing room and out to the front of the building. 

She stands there for a while, next to the valet. 

The valet used to go to her school. She can’t remember his name. 

He looks at her. “Everything okay?” Then his gaze shifts and he looks over her shoulder. Sabrina turns around and spots Connor coming out of the building with Alana Beck’s escort. 

It takes her a moment to remember that she’s met this guy before. He’s older now, sure, but that’s definitely Alana’s friend Reggie. He was always at all Alana’s birthday parties, even though he was a few years older than them and so smart he skipped a grade, then sent off to a fancy boarding school out east. 

“Reggie,” she calls out, then immediately regrets it because there’s no way he remembers her. 

He looks at her for a moment, then his face breaks into a smile. “I remember you,” he says, his voice fond. “Sabrina, right?”

“Right,” she replies, smiling back. 

Reggie turns to Connor and grins. “I thought she looked familiar,” he says warmly. “I used to see Sabrina at Alana’s all the time when we were kids.” 

“Small world,” says Connor. His voice is faint and kind of far away. 

He doesn’t look good. 

Doesn’t look good at all. 

Kind of… distant and far away. 

It’s… fucking terrifying, honestly. 

Reggie’s smile fades. He looks at Sabrina, takes in her denim jacket and her bag. “You heading out?”

Sabrina feels herself deflate. “I have no idea what I’m doing,” she admits. “My mom drove me so it’s not like I can go anywhere, I just… really don’t want to be here.”

Reggie frowns and nods. “Agreed.” He seems to notice the valet then. “Eric,” he says, flashing that brilliant smile again. “Eric Roliardi, right?”

Eric smiles back. “Hey Reg,” he says. “Long time, no see.”

“I hear you’re the man to see around these parts,” says Reggie easily, pulling out his wallet. Sabrina looks at Connor, a little uncertain, then back to Reggie and Eric. 

“I don’t deal in anything hard,” says Eric, looking around to make sure no one else is in earshot. He shoots Connor a significant look that Sabrina can’t quite read. “If you’re looking to party, I can’t help.”

“I think we could all stand to unwind a little,” says Reggie smoothly. “What do you have?”

Eric looks at Connor, then at Sabrina, then back to Reggie. “Girl Scout Cookies.”

“Perfect,” says Reggie, like it’s been decided, then hands Eric a thick stack of what looks like $20 bills. Eric blinks, then reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and hands Reggie a small baggie. 

It takes a moment for Sabrina to figure out that Reggie’s buying weed. 

Like, longer than it should. 

She’s such a fucking idiot. 

Also, she had no idea that Girl Scout Cookies is apparently code for weed now. 

“Pleasure doing business with you,” says Reggie with a huge smile. “Do you think I could grab my car? Pretty sure we’ve had all the waltzing we can take.”

Eric looks at Connor, something sympathetic in his expression. “Is everything okay with your mom?”

Connor visibly flinches. “What?”

Eric turns a little pink. “It’s just, uh… she punched the security guard? The cops were here.” He clears his throat. “Your dad got his car, I think he followed her down to the station? It was… they tried to keep it all discreet, but a lot of people saw it. I’m really sorry.” 

Connor’s face drains of color. For a horrifying moment, Sabrina’s sure he’s going to cry. 

“That settles it,” says Reggie, slinging his arm around Connor’s shoulder. “We gotta get this man out of here.” 

Eric nods. Offers a smile. “I’ll get your car for you now.” He disappears off, and Reggie kind of squeezes Connor’s shoulder. 

Connor doesn’t really react. Just kind of dully stares at his shoes. 

Sabrina suddenly thinks that maybe she’s the one who’s going to cry. 

“Newport Beach parties are never dull,” says Reggie wryly. There’s a beeping noise, and he reaches into his pocket to take out his phone. Flips it open and looks at it. “So Alana’s at her parents’ beach house,” he says, looking at Connor and Sabrina. “Think she’s trying to lay low for a while. How about the three of us swing past a drive through somewhere, get a bite to eat, then go get stoned on the beach?”

“I’m in,” says Sabrina immediately. 

It genuinely sounds like the only thing that might have a shot at making tonight suck a little less.

* * *

Zoe and Evan are sitting outside, her head resting against his shoulder, when Heidi appears before them. She has a nasty red cut on her face. 

“Zoe,” she says gently. 

Zoe doesn’t want to look at her. Doesn’t want to hear what she’s got to say. 

“Your dad texted. He’s… at the police station with your mom.” She sighs heavily. “They arrested her for public intoxication and… assault. She hit one of the security guards when they took her out of the building.” 

Figures. 

Zoe can’t help but think that her mom deserves that. 

“He said I should take you and Connor home. He’ll call when he has an update,” Heidi says. 

“Okay,” Zoe responds. She’s not moving from this spot until she has to. “Where’s my brother?” She asks. He’s not with Heidi. 

Heidi’s face is tight with worry. “Nobody’s seen him. He… he might have taken off.”

Figures. Asshole. 

“I-I’ll look for him,” Evan says quickly. He moves like he’s going to get up but Zoe has wound her arm around his waist and she doesn’t let him go. 

“He’s probably fine,” Zoe says dully. “He does this.”

Evan and Heidi don’t look convinced. 

Zoe doesn’t really care. 

Heidi bites her lip. “Maybe we should all just go home and… we’ll call him on the way?”

“We c-can’t leave him,” Evan says stubbornly. Zoe’s still hanging onto him tightly. He can’t go. He can’t or she’ll fall apart. 

“Zoe’s right,” Heidi says. “He’s probably fine. He’s probably just… getting some space.” She looks at Evan. “I think we should get you two home. I can come back for him…”

Evan opens his mouth like he might protest. Zoe clings tighter to his waist, trying to communicate without words that she won’t let him go, she  _ can’t _ let him go. 

He closes his mouth. “Okay,” he says unhappily. He turns his head toward Zoe. “You ready?”

She nods. 

Evan helps her to her feet. 

Keeps his arm around her as they start walking toward the front. Heidi speaks to Eric Roliardi and he says he’ll be right back with her car. 

“You haven’t seen Connor Murphy, have you?” Heidi asks as Eric climbs out of her car. 

“Oh. Yeah. He left with Reg and some chick.” Eric seems to realize maybe that’s not what he ought to be saying. “With one of the other girls? She had like. Super dark hair and… she’s kinda. Curvy?” 

Sabrina’s the only person anyone around here would describe as curvy. Zoe frowns at that. Why are Connor and Sabrina hanging out now? That makes… no sense. 

“Alright,” Heidi says, giving Eric a smile and a big tip. “Thank you.”

“I’ll c-call him,” Evan says as he’s helping Zoe into the back of Heidi’s car. He surprises her by climbing in the back with her. They buckle their seatbelts and then Evan’s hand finds Zoe in the dark. He gives it a squeeze. 

Calls her brother on his cell while they drive away. There are still hundreds of people inside the club. Laughing and dancing and talking. 

Talking about Zoe. And her family. 

She squeezes Evan’s hand back. Like a lifeline. It’s a short drive back to their little gated community. Nobody is on the road right now. Most of the houses are dark and Zoe thinks a thief could have a field day on cotillion night. Really score themselves a big payday if they bothered to break into any one of these houses. 

They pull up Heidi’s driveway. “Zoe,” she says. “Why don’t you go home and change? I’ll set the guest room up for you tonight..”

Zoe shakes her head. “No thanks Aunt Heidi.” The “aunt” slips out. She’s not sure why. “I just… I really think I want to be alone right now.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t love the idea of you in that house all by yourself.”

“I’ll be alright,” she says softly. “I’m just going to go straight to bed I think. Today has… it’s been really tiring?”

Heidi’s face softens in the rearview mirror. “Alright honey. You’ll call or come over if you need anything right?” 

“Of course,” Zoe lies. 

Heidi nods. “Evan’ll walk you to the your house then.” 

Evan looks a little surprised. Heidi raises her eyebrows at him in the mirror. He says nothing. Just gets out of the car, comes around to the other side and opens Zoe’s door. 

Helps her out. 

She’s still wearing his coat. 

It smells like the cologne he was wearing. 

He immediately puts his arm around her and leads her down the driveway. Across the sidewalk, and then up her driveway. 

“I’m r-really sorry about tonight,” Evan says softly. 

“It’s okay,” Zoe says, pulling her shoulders in slightly. Trying to make herself smaller. 

“It’s not though.”

Zoe shrugs. “You were a great escort,” she says instead. “Really. Thank you for doing that. I know you hated it.”

“I didn’t,” Evan tells her. “I… it was fine.” 

They reach her door. Evan lets go of her waist. 

They stand and look at each other for a long, quiet moment. 

“You look really beautiful tonight,” Evan says suddenly, the words rushed and awkward. His face is dark with a blush in the dark. “I think you were the… the pr-prettiest girl there.”

“Really?” Zoe asks. She knows she looked good tonight but she wants to hear him tell her. 

“Y-yeah,” Evan says. “You always are. You’re like. Th-the most beautiful girl I’ve ever m-met.”

He’s standing really close to her. 

His eyes are big and earnest and he looks really good like this. All dressed up and worried about her. 

Zoe makes a decision. 

She takes the smallest step forward. Wraps her arms around his neck. 

“I really like you,” she says. “You’re like. The most… genuine person I’ve ever met.”

Evan’s eyes flicker with something she doesn’t understand. “I’m… it. I always s-sort of feel like I’m faking it?” He says. His hands are on her waist. “S-sorry, that’s weird to say, s-sorry.”

“Isn’t everyone always faking it?” Zoe asks. She’s genuinely asking. She doesn’t know anybody who isn’t on some level. 

“Maybe they’re just. Better.”

“Maybe,” Zoe says. 

They’re so close. Chest to chest practically. Evan’s blushing. 

Zoe tilts her head up slightly and Evan meets her halfway. They kiss, soft and brief and tentative at first. 

And then he’s pulling her closer even though there’s basically no space between them. 

They kiss again. Still soft, still unsure, and Zoe parts her lips a little to kiss him more deeply. 

He’s taller than she is but not by much in these heels. 

He doesn’t seem to totally know what he’s doing. 

But she keeps kissing him anyway, leading a little, wondering who he’s been kissing in Seattle who doesn’t use tongue. 

They break apart. Smile at each other awkwardly. 

Zoe kisses him once more. Closed mouth. Soft. 

“Thanks again for… everything.”

She shrugs off Evan’s jacket and hands it to him. 

He looks stunned. 

“Goodnight,” Zoe says. 

She kisses him again. 

“Goodnight,” Evan says back. And then kisses her again. 

It’s a little awkward and imperfect, but Zoe just needs something fucking normal to happen tonight. She kisses him one last time. 

“Goodnight.”

* * *

So here Connor is, riding shotgun in Reg’s car, heading to Alana Beck’s parents’ beach house with a bag of weed in his pocket. 

That had been an awkward conversation. Him insisting that Reg give it to Connor. 

His pretty face settling into a hard line. “Good point.”

“What’s going on?” Sabrina asking, her made up face pinched in confusion. 

Connor sighing. “In case we get pulled over,” Connor muttering. “I’m white _. _ ”

He wonders stupidly why his parents never got themselves a beach house. Seems to be something of a status symbol around here. An unnecessary one. They live like three miles from the beach. 

If he thinks about how stupid beach houses are he doesn’t have to think about how his mom got  _ arrested.  _

Even Connor’s never embarrassed her that much. He got picked up by some cops just after freshman year (he was wandering around without shoes on at four in the morning, started yelling general abuse outside of the Kleinmans’ house, high on coke and some oxy) and they dropped him off at home and told him not to do it again. He’s not even sure his parents know about that. They probably  _ do,  _ because everyone here knows everything, but the officers knew his dad from around and let him off without so much as a warning and his folks never said a word. 

Fuck. 

Sabrina’s in the back, shimmying out of her dress and into the clothes she wore to the venue earlier. She begged them not to look, and Reg smiled and said, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, we’re all gay here.”

Sabrina’s mouth had dropped open. 

Reg didn’t clarify. 

Connor wonders if he could pull the door open and jump out of the moving car. He wonders if it would hurt. 

If he would want it to. 

He saw Evan and Zoe cuddled up together as he and Reg were leaving. All snuggled up under the twinkly lights. Because Evan went after her. Checked on  _ her.  _ They probably left together. 

_ Good for them _ , Connor thinks bitterly. They should have gotten the hell out of there. 

His mom got  _ arrested.  _ Arrested. 

Connor feels his phone buzzing in his tux’s pocket. He doesn’t even look at who is calling. He just turns off his phone. 

He doesn’t want to talk to anyone. 

Connor never wants to talk to anyone ever again. He wants to shut up permanently. 

His mom got arrested. 

She got  _ arrested.  _

Reg pulls down a secluded road and then they’ve arrived. The beach house has massive windows and all of the lights inside seem to be on. 

“Alright people,” Reg says with a smile. “Let’s do this thing.”

Alana greets them at the door with a huge smile. “Were people talking about my protest?” She asks Reg the moment they step inside. “I’ve never been removed from a venue before, that’s pretty good right? Made an impression?”

Reg’s smile softens a little. “Sure did,” he says. “But unfortunately Mrs. Murphy stole your thunder a little.”

Alana’s smile falls. “What happened?”

Reg and Sabrina relate the story to her, omitting the bits about Connor’s mom calling him a faggot in front of everyone. It’s nice of them but unnecessary. She’ll know by tomorrow. 

Everyone will know by tomorrow. 

Alana settles Connor with a sympathetic smile. “I was just going to build a fire outside?”

“Good call,” Reg says with a grin. “We’ll need some fire.”

Turns out none of these geniuses assembled knows anything about actually making weed smoking happen, Connor learns. They’re totally unprepared. No pipes or rolling papers. 

“Were you just like. Planning to  _ eat _ it?” Connor asks, a little annoyed. 

Reg gives him an awkward smile. He probably has people who prepare his weed at Harvard. 

Lucky for them, Connor is relatively prepared. He dismantles a cigarette and fashions it into a joint with a little bit of effort. Alana complains about big tobacco but Connor ignores her. 

“I’m just saying that cigarettes are a genuine public health problem. And don’t even get me started on the marketing of menthols to minorities.”

“Okay,” Connor says, some annoyance bleeding through. “I won’t.”

Alana looks mildly affronted. “At least weed is natural,” she sniffs. 

“Tobacco is a plant,” Connor mutters. “Look I’m not defending cigarette companies-”

“Could have fooled me,” Alana says under her breath. 

“But you don’t have any rolling papers,” Connor goes on as if she hasn’t spoken. “So it’s this or we toss this in the fire and pray for a contact high.”

Alana shuts up. 

Connor is given the honor of the first hit because he’s the one who has made it possible for them to even smoke. 

He hasn’t been smoking as much lately. 

Like. Evan’s on probation. It would be super awful if Connor got him into trouble by smoking up. 

Plus also when he’s baked, Connor has a tendency to eat everything in sight. He gets awful cottonmouth. 

Whatever. 

Connor passes the joint to Alana. He half expects her to pass because she’s  _ Alana Beck  _ who only ever gets in trouble if she’s practicing some kind of civil disobedience. 

But she takes it and takes two small hits. But not before confirming that none of them have oral herpes. 

She passes the joint to Reg. He smokes like a pro, no coughing. He smiles at Connor as he exhales. He’s got a good smile, Connor thinks. A really good smile. He could be a Disney Prince. 

Reg passes to Sabrina. She looks at the joint a little uncertainly. “This is  _ just  _ weed right?” She says. “Because I’ve smoked some bad shit in the past… laced with something. Not a good time.”

“Don’t you worry sweetheart,” Reg says, and Connor’s happy to note that the sweetheart doesn’t even sound condescending. “Eric’s good people, and he’s fastidious about his product.”

Seems to be enough of an explanation to Sabrina. She takes two hits and passes it back to Connor. 

Connor relaxes a bit now that he’s stoned. 

Being high around people is a little weird. He’s more of a solo smoker these days. It’s kinda nice though, all of them sitting around the bonfire and getting stoned. 

After they finish the joint and everyone has settled into a sort of mellow and nice haze, Reg gets up suddenly. He looks at Connor. “I’m gonna go stick my feet in the water.”

“It’s gonna be freezing,” Connor tells him. Because it is. It’s not like cold tonight but he knows the water will be. 

“I’m gonna go stick my feet in the water,” he repeats. He kicks off his shoes with the cool blue soles and starts rolling up his pants. 

He gives Connor a  _ look.  _

And then Connor’s doing the same. Shoes off, socks peeled off, his pant legs rolled up. Reg smiles big and loops an arm around Connor’s shoulders as they make their way down the beach.

The water is freezing. 

It feels a little like Connor’s just waking up. From a nightmare. From a horror movie. 

He goes in a step deeper. The waves lap at his ankles. 

“You still in touch with anyone at Hanover?” Reg asks. A lot of his confidence and swagger seems to have faded away now that they’re alone. He seems more open, like he was in the bathroom. 

Connor shakes his head. “Nope.”

Reg looks surprised. “Not even Miguel Alvarez?”

Connor takes M’s name like a punch. “No,” he says. “He stopped taking my calls once I got expelled.”

Reg nods. “That was decent of you to do,” he says as the waves crash against their ankles again. “Stupid. But decent.”

Connor shrugs. 

“When did you break up?” Reg asks. 

“Breaking up implies that we were ever actually together,” Connor mutters. 

“Ah,” Reg says. 

“Am I that obvious?” Connor asks. He needs to know. 

Reg shakes his head. “No. But people talk.” He smiles kind of sadly. “I hear he’s not having the best time at school now that you’re gone. It’s kind of an open secret, you taking the fall for him.”

Of course it is. 

Maybe that’s why M stopped calling him. 

He doesn’t want to make it… worse. 

More likely, though, is that he never felt the same way Connor did. He never cared the same way Connor cared. 

When Connor was packing up his things that night he said words you can’t take back. 

Three of them. 

But Miguel didn’t say them back. 

Because he doesn’t love Connor. Nobody fucking  _ loves  _ Connor. He’s just. A means to an end. Someone to mess around with.

That’s clearly what Reg is looking for after all. 

Connor doesn’t even blame him. 

Maybe he should be more like that. More interested in the now, in what’s right in front of him. 

Reg is standing a couple of feet away. Connor kicks some water at him and he yelps. “This is  _ Gucci! _ ” He says, scandalized. 

“So is this!” Connor says with a laugh. 

Reg grabs Connor by the wrist. Tugs him closer. 

Connor’s taller but not by much. They’re within a few inches of each other’s heights. 

“We don’t have to do anything,” Reg says softly. “This can be whatever you want it to be.”

Connor nods slightly. 

He’s trying to screw up his resolve. 

But Reg does it for him. Leans in and kisses Connor. Even though he heard Connor puke earlier. Even though he knows how much Connor’s mom hates him. 

Connor kisses him back. 

Their lips fit together strangely. Unfamiliar somehow. Reg tastes like weed and champagne and he smells like a bonfire. 

He’s a good kisser. His lips are really soft and he holds onto Connor’s face like he’s important and Connor finds himself wondering how many other guys he’s done that with. Made them feel special, short term. 

He kisses well. Well enough that Connor instinctively pulls him closer. Lets him wrap his arms around Connor’s waist. 

He could get lost in this. 

A night on the beach, stoned and kissing someone beautiful. 

But Connor’s heart isn’t really in it. Sure this  _ extremely  _ beautiful guy wants him but. He doesn’t know him. 

Most likely doesn’t want to. 

And more importantly, Connor’s not sure he wants him to. He doesn’t know if he wants to be known by Reginald St. James. Hanover alum, Harvard sophomore. High society pretty boy. Connor doesn’t belong with people like that. 

He’s known that for as long as he’s been able to think for himself. That he doesn’t belong. 

He pulls away. 

Feels himself blush. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says softly. “I can’t…”

“Because you like someone else,” Reg summarizes evenly. 

“I’m sorry.”

Reg shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Don’t worry about it.” He smiles again, still that big beautiful Greek God-worthy smile. “But if you just wanted someone to help you feel better tonight…? We could head inside. Have some fun.” He grins. “Not to brag or whatever, but I’ve heard I’m good. I could take your mind off of him for a little bit.”

Connor considers this. Something with absolutely no strings. Scratch an itch that gets worse every time Evan looks at him slightly too long, every time his hand brushes Connor’s by accident when he’s handing him things or walking side by side. An itch that’s been building maddeningly for months now, a need to be touched for someone to just fucking  _ want _ him. Building and building, ever since Evan first blew into the scene, growing more and more insistent each time he’s held onto Connor or grabbed his hand or looked at him with such affection in his eyes. 

Connor shakes his head. He’s not actually interested in the sort of comfort Reg is offering. He actually likes it when things have strings. 

Maybe if he weren’t such a mess, this would be easy. He’d go inside and fuck this guy and wake up tomorrow feeling less empty inside, less broken and worthless. 

But that’s not who he is. 

“I’m sorry,” Connor says. 

Reg nods. “No worries, man. Like I said. This can be whatever you want it to be.”

* * *

Alana looks over at Reggie and Connor, standing in the ocean, then back at Sabrina. “They seem to be getting along.”

“Yeah,” says Sabrina, not sure how to respond. 

It’s suddenly dawned on her that everyone she’s hanging around with right now is gay. 

She’s, like,  _ surrounded by gays  _ right now. 

Christ, that sounds so stupid and simple and narrow-minded and bigoted. She’s not her mom, she doesn’t care about that shit. 

People are just… people. 

And it’s not like she can safely say that she’s not at least a little bit gay. Not after whatever’s going on with her and Zoe. 

Who knows what’s going on with Zoe. 

Sabrina keeps thinking about how Zoe kissed her. At cotillion. When no one else was around. 

How it was… different. Soft and sweet and…

Someone could have walked in. Someone could have seen. 

But Zoe did it anyway. 

What does that mean, what the  _ fuck  _ does that mean?

Alana’s still kind of watching Reggie and Connor, Sabrina notices. Eventually she looks back at Sabrina, something challenging in her expression. 

“I think they’d be cute together, don’t you?”

Sabrina considers. “Yeah. They would.” She smiles a little. “Reggie was always super nice when we were kids.”

Alana tilts her head, her expression questioning. “You remember him?”

Sabrina nods. “Yeah.”

Alana nods. Pulls her jacket a little tighter around her. Looks at Sabrina intently. “I didn’t realize you and Connor were such good acquaintances.”

“We’re not,” Sabrina says, feeling a little helpless. The weed has made her loose-lipped, apparently, because she’s honest with her answer. “I’m not sure what I’m doing here? Like… you and Connor aren’t really my friends. Not that I don't want to be friends with you, we just… don’t really hang out.”

Alana looks at her. Blinks. Nods. “Why did you come along, then?”

Sabrina always liked how Alana gets straight to the point. 

“I didn’t want to be alone,” she says simply. “And Zoe was with Evan getting all cuddly on the patio, so… wasn’t like I could hang out with her.”

Alana’s gaze doesn’t falter. “Would you rather be with Zoe?”

Sabrina doesn’t even hesitate. “I’d always rather be with Zoe.”

Alana’s expression shifts. “Okay.”

Sabrina feels like she’s said the wrong thing. “She’s, like, my best friend?” she tries to explain. “I know I’m not hers, because Madison is her best friend, not me, but she’s… awesome? And she’s so smart and so funny and she’s really talented, you have no idea how talented she is, she kind of hides it? But she’s incredible, she’s so completely amazing and people don’t always see it the way they should.”

Alana blinks a few times. Looks at Sabrina with this strange expression, like she’s looking right through her.

Sabrina’s not expecting Alana’s next question. At all. 

“Are you in love with her?”

Sabrina stares at Alana for a long moment. 

“What the fuck?” she asks, laughing a little. 

Alana doesn’t stop looking at her. “It sounds like you’re in love with her.”

“I’m not,” Sabrina says immediately. “Obviously. I’m not… I’m not like  _ that _ .”

“You mean you’re not like me,” Alana replies, her face clouding over a little. She looks over to Reggie and Connor, still in the water. “Like us.”

Sabrina feels her chest clench. “I’m not… I don’t mean that there’s anything wrong with you-”

“There isn’t,” Alana interrupts firmly. “There’s nothing wrong with any of us. You can’t just decide what your heart wants.”

That lands like a punch to the face. 

It hurts. 

It hurts the way seeing Zoe and Evan together tonight hurt. 

It…

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” Sabrina says, trying really hard to make this better, somehow. Make this less weird. 

Alana’s expression softens a little. She looks at Sabrina. 

“I know,” she says, something a little sad in her eyes. She sighs. “I know it wasn’t your idea for us to stop being friends in middle school, either.”

Sabrina’s heart drops to her shoes. “You do?”

Alana nods. Frowns. “Your mom called my mom, and…” She lifts her chin defiantly. “My mom sat me down and talked to me about it. Said that there would always be small people with small minds who didn’t have the capacity to understand anything outside their own experiences.”

That… 

Ouch. 

Fuck. 

“I’m sorry.”

Alana’s face softens a little. “She also said that some people just need some time to grow. And that it’s hard when authority figures in your life are trying to keep your mind small.” She blinks a few times. Offers a small smile. “We were kids, Sabrina. I don’t blame you.”

“I’m so fucking sorry,” says Sabrina, feeling her eyes sting. “I… I shouldn’t have-”

“We were kids,” Alana says again. She steadies her shoulders. “But we’re not anymore. We literally were just presented to society as young women, as problematic and misogynistic as that is. We’re not kids anymore, and it’s time we started thinking for ourselves.” 

“Yeah,” says Sabrina, trying desperately not to cry. 

Alana bites her lip. Tilts her head a little. Frowns, like she’s considering something, then finally speaks. 

“I figured out I was a lesbian because of you.”

Sabrina blinks. 

That’s…

Okay.

“You did?” she asks. 

Alana nods. Looks at her intently. “I did. I had the biggest crush on you.” She pauses, then continues. “Does that make you uncomfortable?”

Sabrina shakes her head immediately. “No.”

“My feelings for you have ebbed,” Alana says immediately, in this very matter-of-fact way. “I have other priorities in my life right now that don’t involve any form of romantic or sexual attachment.”

“Good to know,” says Sabrina, for lack of anything else to say. 

“I don’t think it would have been useful to tell you in middle school,” says Alana, still in that matter-of-fact tone. “I didn’t know how you’d respond. But…” She frowns a little. “I heard some of the moms talking about you. Talking about fat camp and juice cleanses?”

Sabrina’s face burns with shame. 

“Yeah,” she manages to choke out.

Alana looks at her. “Their attitudes are incredibly damaging to your emotional, mental and physical wellbeing,” she says bluntly. “Beauty standards are unrealistic and harmful to all women, especially teenage girls.” 

“I know,” says Sabrina, her voice small. 

Alana’s gaze doesn’t falter. “Women are more than their physical appearance. More than a number on a scale. Beauty is relative and difficult to define and as a society, we need to break the mold completely and celebrate all bodies. All types of beauty.”

“Sure,” says Sabrina, wishing Alana would stop talking all of a sudden. 

“With all of that in mind,” says Alana, something in her expression shifting, “I think you should know that I think you’re one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever met.”

Sabrina’s eyes fill with tears immediately. 

“Yeah?”

Alana nods. “Yeah.” She looks at Sabrina. “It doesn’t mean I’m interested in you. I don’t have the time a proper relationship would require, and I don’t think that our goals currently line up in a way that would make this a healthy partnership.” She smiles a little. “Also, you’re not _ like that. _ ”

“I’m not,” says Sabrina. 

She wonders if it’ll feel true if she keeps saying it.

* * *

Evan’s called Connor’s phone thirty times. 

At least. 

He’s not answering. It’s going straight to voicemail. 

Heidi’s too pale. She’s washed off her makeup and changed into a t-shirt and sweats, and the bruise and cut on her face look even more obvious. She looks exhausted. 

Evan just had his first kiss with Zoe Murphy. 

His first kiss ever. 

He’s pretty sure he was bad at it. 

To say he’s freaking out would be an understatement. 

Evan makes hot chocolate for him and Heidi, and they sit in the living room for a while. Every now and then, Evan tries to call Connor again. 

Straight to voicemail. Every time. 

“Eric said he went somewhere with Sabrina,” says Heidi gently. “I think he just… needed some space?”

“I just want to know if he’s okay,” Evan says helplessly. “He saw his mom get kicked out of the place, that must have sucked.”

Heidi blinks. She looks… so sad. 

“Did you hear what Cynthia said?” she asks, her voice quiet. “About Connor?”

Evan feels his whole body go cold. “She said something about Connor?”

Heidi’s face falls. She nods. 

“I only heard b-bits,” Evan admits, his voice shaking. “Heard her call me r-retarded, and talk about y-you and Mr. Murphy.” He swallows hard. “What did she say about Connor?”

Heidi looks like she could cry. Or punch something. 

“Well, she called him a faggot in front of everyone,” Heidi says after a moment, her voice trembling with anger. 

Evan’s heart is pounding too fast. He can feel the blood rushing in his ears, feel the familiar fire of anger working its way through his body. 

“She did what?” 

Fuck. 

Fuck, what the fuck, why the fuck would she do that?

He’s never exactly liked Mrs. Murphy but right now he feels like he could tear her to pieces. 

Heidi looks so sad, so angry, so incredibly frustrated. “Some space to figure that out might help,” she says, frowning. She sighs. Her phone buzzes, and she picks it up, flips it open and looks at it. There’s relief on her face. “That was Zoe,” she says. “She texted Sabrina. Connor’s fine, they’re with Alana Beck and her date.” Heidi smiles a little. “Alana won’t let him do anything stupid. I think we don’t have to worry.”

“Connor’s grounded,” Evan points out a little weakly. “Shouldn’t you, like, go get him or something?”

Heidi sighs. Looks conflicted. “I think Larry has other things on his mind right now.” She picks up the phone again and starts to compose a message. “I’m asking Zoe to ask Sabrina to tell Connor he needs to be home by 1.” 

Evan looks at his watch. “It’s after midnight.”

Heidi nods. “I think giving him some time is a good idea. Let him process things a bit. We know he’s somewhere safe.”

Evan doesn’t know if he agrees with that, but he doesn’t want to argue. 

They finish their hot chocolate. Heidi looks more and more exhausted as time passes. Like she’s going to fall asleep right there on the sofa. 

“You should get some rest,” Evan says after a while. “I can wait up for Connor.”

Heidi blinks heavily. “You don’t have to do that.”

“You need to rest,” Evan says firmly. “I got this.”

Heidi looks reluctant, but also completely dead on her feet. She frowns. “You’ll tell me?” she says firmly. “If he doesn’t come home?”

“I will,” Evan promises, and Heidi heads to bed. 

Evan sits on the couch for a while. 

Calls Connor’s phone again. 

Gets his voicemail again. 

He goes to his room and changes out of his tux. Puts on sweats and a hoodie, grabs the book he’s been reading and his cigarettes and lighter then heads downstairs. 

Then he heads out the front door and to the bottom of the driveway. Parks himself on the fence thing under a street lamp and…

Waits. 

This probably wasn’t what Heidi had in mind, he knows. 

But he’s not going anywhere until he knows Connor’s safe.

* * *

Sabrina comes and sits beside Connor near the fire. “Hey,” She says. 

“Hey.”

“You sister texted me,” Sabrina says. “Your parents still aren’t home, and I guess… I guess Heidi Herzberg said you should be home by one.”

Connor rolls his eyes. 

Heidi Herzberg is not his mom. He doesn’t have to listen to her. 

Sabrina gets up and heads back into the beach house. 

But he can’t help wondering what’s happening with his mother. Who got arrested tonight. 

Despite how his mother treated him earlier, he still needs to know what’s happening. Needs to know if there’s any update. 

Connor knows better but he turns his phone on anyway. He needs to know. He needs to know. 

His phone powers up. 

And he has… 

Over 45 missed calls. Ten voicemails, all less than a few seconds long. 

A few texts. 

All from Evan. 

All but one.

One from his dad, short and just relating what Connor already knows. 

That his mom was arrested, that he’s at the police station. 

But Connor can’t focus on that. He can’t make himself look at that. 

Because Evan called him 45 times. 

Forty five fucking times. 

Somehow, that hurts. That hurts more than Connor can understand because why would he be calling like this when he didn’t come looking for Connor at cotillion, when he went to the event with Connor’s sister, when he doesn’t fucking  _ want _ him?

Connor’s phone starts ringing again in his hand. 

It’s Evan. Again. 

Connor feels his heart squeeze painfully. 

And he switches off his phone again. 

Connor can’t. He just… he just can’t. He can’t deal with Evan caring right now. Not tonight, not this minute. 

He puts his phone away. 

He heads back into the house where Reg is laughing and teasing Alana. They’re talking about how he helped her strap the megaphone to her upper thigh before Alana was presented. Sabrina’s laughing and smiling. 

Reg sees Connor’s face and he removes himself from Alana and Sabrina, coming over to Connor and looking genuinely concerned. “You okay?”

Connor kisses him. 

He doesn’t care that Sabrina and Alana are watching. He doesn’t care about what he said before. 

Reg gives him a questioning look when they break apart. “I thought…”

“You said this could be whatever I wanted,” Connor says breathlessly. “And I… I gave it some thought and…”

Reg smiles. “Okay then.” There’s no more discussion needed. Reg smiles at him brightly and kisses him in front of Alana and Sabrina. And then he’s taking Connor’s hand and leading him away from Alana and Sabrina, down the hall. He hears Alana’s voice calling that they had better make sure to be “sensible about protection.” But she doesn’t follow after them. She doesn’t try to protest that they are being vile or disgusting. She doesn’t act like it’s dirty or wrong. 

Reg leads them to a bedroom and Connor heads inside and Reg shuts the door, kissing him harder. Kisses his lips and his cheeks, nibbles lightly on Connor’s naked ear. Tells him that he’s “absolutely gorgeous,” which Connor knows is a lie but he doesn’t call Reg on it. You’re supposed to say stuff like that to someone you’re about to sleep with, Connor thinks. 

And Connor is going to sleep with him. Even though Reg keeps saying this whatever he wants it to be, they both know what they’ve come into this room to do. 

Reg does something Connor doesn’t expect in the middle of them tearing off each other’s clothes. He reaches out and tugs Connor’s hair out of it’s neat knot. Lets it fall around his shoulders. 

Connor feels strangely seen. Like Reg doesn’t want Connor all polished and shined up, he just wants him however he is. Long messy hair and too skinny hips and breathing too fast to be totally comfortable. Reg wants Connor, exactly as he is. 

Even if it’s just for a little while. 

Connor kisses him again and again. Reg pulls away and kisses Connor’s neck, mumbles that he likes how long it is, and Connor feels his face flame. But he tilts his chin, gives Reg more access, doesn’t even protest when he knows that the way Reg is sucking at the sensitive skin will leave a mark. Good. Connor wants Reg to bruise him. Mark him. Claim Connor as his, if only for tonight. 

Reg kisses him like he’s not afraid of him. Like he’s not afraid of breaking him or of being hurt by him. 

Connor decides that he likes that. He really likes that. 

Reg lets his hands trail down Connor’s bare back, to the waistband of his boxers, and Connor likes that too. 

He can want this, Connor decides. 

He likes strings, but… He needs this. 

A distraction. 

He kisses Reg hard, and Reg tangles his fingers in Connor’s hair. Connor hasn’t done this in a while. He’s unsure about what to do with his hands and embarrassed by the sounds that escape his throat, but Reg doesn’t seem to mind. 

He isn’t lying about being good at this. He’s careful. Despite how unprepared he was to smoke weed, he’s got them covered with condoms. Literally. 

He doesn’t seem disgusted by Connor’s skinny frame or the way he shivers with each touch. How sensitive Connor is because he hasn’t had anyone to touch in months and it shows. He kisses Connor a lot, says kind things to him while they get ready and Connor finds himself idly glad he hasn’t been eating so they don’t need to worry about that. 

Reg is gentle but not too gentle. He pulls Connor’s hair and kisses him fiercely but he’s not a jerk and insists that Connor’s in control here. Insists he’s in control the entire time. He asks and checks in a lot. More than M ever did at least. That’s all Connor has to compare it to. 

It doesn’t really compare. 

He braces his hands against Reg’s chest. He has a really nice chest. Solid and muscular and the bedroom is pretty dark, only the moonlight showing through the window, and Reg’s skin is so dark that he looks almost blue in the moonlight. 

"Fuck,” Reg breathes at one point. “You’re really  _ fucking  _ good at this.”

Connor thinks about what his mom said. About him being gay to spite her. 

Maybe he’s being extra gay right now because of that exact reason. 

Whole lot to unpack there. 

They take their time on each other. They don’t rush. They go slow and steady and Reg is really good. He’s good at this. Very good. Connor loses himself a little, his eyes closing in pleasure plenty of times. It’s  _ good.  _ He feels  _ good  _ so fucking good and after the fucking night he’s had, Connor thinks he deserves to feel good. 

When they’re finished, they just lie there for a while. Reg pulls Connor to his chest, and Connor lets himself be held. He cards his hand through Connor’s hair. Connor sighs contentedly. He feels exhausted but oddly lighter than he did earlier. 

“Was that okay?” Reg asks. “You’re kind of shaking.”

“Sorry,” Connor says quietly. “I kind of do that after I…”

“Come?” Reg says, a smile in his voice. 

Connor feels a little warm, a little embarrassed. 

“So he’ll sleep with a stranger, but he won’t say ‘come,’” Reg says, his voice light and a little bit teasing. “You truly are an enigma, Connor Murphy.”

“If you say so,” Connor says, cuddling closer. They lay around tangled up under the sheets for a while. Until Reg looks at the clock and notes that it’s after 2:30. 

“I should get home,” Connor says, embarrassed. “I don’t… Technically I’m grounded.”

Reg laughs a little. “Oh high school. I don’t miss it.”

But he doesn’t complain much. They get dressed and then Reg pops downstairs to ask Sabrina if she needs a ride. She agrees and hugs Alana goodbye and then the three of them troop to Reg’s car. 

They drop Sabrina off. 

And then it’s just the two of them. 

“I know tonight was a shitshow,” Reg says, pulling into Connor’s parents’ driveway. “But I had a good time with you.”

“I had a good time with you too,” Connor says, smiling a little. 

“Next time I’m in town, maybe I’ll call you?” He says. 

“Okay,” Connor says. 

He gets out of the car. Reg surprises him and gets out too. Puts his arm around Connor’s waist. Leans in close to his ear and says, “You’re too good for this town you know. You can get out of here. But you have to want it.”

Connor doesn’t know what he means. “I… I’m not sure you can ever really get out. Even if you leave.”

Reg leans in. Tucks a piece of hair behind Connor’s ear. “Well. I think you can. For what it’s worth.” He kisses Connor again, soft lips gentle. Connor melts into it a little. Part of him isn’t sure he’s ready to let this part of the night go. 

But Reg gets back in the car. Drives away. 

It’s only then that Connor sees Evan. Realizes he’s been there, between their houses, watching. “What are you doing here?” Connor asks, his voice a little cutting. He doesn’t want Evan to be here right now. Evan who called him nearly 50 times and went to cotillion with Zoe. 

“Waiting for you,” Evan says. He sounds exhausted. His voice is rough, like he’s been smoking too much. “Are you okay?”

* * *

One am comes and goes. 

Then two am. 

By two-thirty, Evan’s smoked his entire pack of cigarettes and his hands are shaking too badly to turn the pages of his book. 

Where the fuck is Connor?

Evan should have stayed at cotillion until he found Connor. Should have demanded Heidi ask Zoe to ask Sabrina where they were and insisted Heidi go get him. 

He should have gone after Connor instead of Zoe. 

What if Connor’s hurt? 

What if he hurt himself?

What if he’s off doing something stupid and reckless?

Evan can’t stop thinking about Mr. Murphy yelling at Connor when he found them at the beach house the morning after the concert. 

_ “You could have been dead for all I knew!” _

Something about the look on Mr. Murphy’s face when he said that…

Haunts Evan a little. 

More than a little. 

Evan fucked up here. He knows he did. He fucked up. He should have checked on Connor, should have made sure he was okay, and now he’s fuck knows where and maybe Sabrina’s covering for him and he’s run off to do something, maybe he’s…

Alana’s date. 

Reg. 

Connor’s with Reg. 

That…

Evan doesn’t like that. Doesn’t like that at all. Reg is a  _ dick. _

_ Reg is fine, _ a voice in his head sneers at him.  _ He’s the kind of person Connor is supposed to be with. The kind of friend Connor’s supposed to have. They’re from the same world, they actually fit. You’re the outsider. You’re the problem.  _

Evan’s sitting here, thinking about Reg and Connor like some kind of freak, when tonight he kissed Connor’s sister. 

He and Zoe kissed tonight. 

It’s hard to hang onto, hard to keep a hold of in the chaos of the evening, the overwhelming waves of fear that keep crashing over Evan. The thought keeps slipping away, keeps disappearing, unable to stay steady against the force of that fear for Connor. 

But it happened. 

It happened. 

It was… nice. Evan’s sure he did it wrong. Sure it wasn’t good enough. He’d let Zoe guide him, let Zoe take the lead because she’s done plenty of kissing, she’s beautiful and popular and everyone wants her and…

She kissed Evan. 

She asked Evan to be her escort. 

She chose Evan. 

_ Only because she doesn’t know you, _ the voice in his head tells him disdainfully. _ She doesn’t know a thing about you. If she saw who you really were, she wouldn’t even look at you. _

Evan is a liar and a fake and a fraud. 

And Connor’s not home yet. 

It’s nearly 3am.

He’ll give it until three, he promises himself. If Connor’s not home by three, he’ll wake Heidi up. Insist she go look for him. He just…

He just doesn’t want to embarrass Connor by, like, ruining his fun if he’s off partying with Reg or whatever. 

At five minutes to three, Evan hears the gates to the gated community open. Hears a car approaching and feels his heart sink. 

It’s gotta be Connor’s dad. He’s going to freak out when he finds out Connor’s not home. 

But Evan doesn’t recognize this car. It’s bright red and stupid fancy and clearly expensive and it pulls up at the bottom of the Murphy’s driveway. 

Connor gets out of the passenger seat. 

He’s not wearing his tie. The buttons of his shirt are undone at the top. His hair is loose, his clothes are a little rumpled and his lips and cheeks are pink. 

There’s a hickey on his neck, Evan notices. 

Connor doesn’t look at him. 

Reg gets out of the driver’s seat. Glances at Evan, then focuses back on Connor. 

They’re standing just out of earshot, talking in low voices that Evan can’t hear. 

He tries not to stare. 

Reg’s tie is gone, too. He looks equally rumpled. He’s smiling at Connor, has his arm on his waist. 

Evan can’t tear his eyes away as Reg reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind Connor’s ear, then kisses him gently. 

His stomach feels weird. 

He feels… weird, he doesn’t like this, he doesn’t like seeing this guy kiss Connor. Does he just not like seeing guys kiss? He doesn’t want to be a homophobic asshole, he doesn’t want to hurt Connor, he just…

He doesn’t like seeing this. 

Can’t watch it anymore. 

He stares at his shoes for a bit. Waits until Reg gets back into his car and drives away. 

Doesn’t look up until he hears the car go. 

Connor’s standing there, looking at him, this unreadable expression on his face. 

“What are you doing here?” Connor asks bluntly. 

“Waiting for you,” Evan says, too tired to cushion it. “Are you okay?”

* * *

“I’m fine,” Connor says in a flat voice. “How are you?”

“Connor,” Evan says, something pleading in his tone. “Your mom-”

“We both already knew she was a bitch,” he says like it doesn’t matter. “So. No surprises there.”

“ _ Connor, _ ” Evan repeats. 

“ _ What _ ?” Connor snaps. 

“You-you were supposed to c-come home at one,” Evan says lamely. Like it’s all he can come up with. 

“Oops,” Connor mutters. He digs in his pockets for his cigarettes. Goes to find his lighter and realizes he must have left it behind. “Can I have a light?”

Evan looks annoyed but he tosses Connor his lighter. Connor lights his cigarette and then hands it back. “You’re not okay,” Evan accuses. 

“I’m fine,” Connor says. He blinks a few times to try and determine how much he’s lying. A bit. Whatever. “You didn’t have to wait up for me,  _ mom _ .”

“Don’t do that,” Evan pleads. “I was. I was worried.”

“Why? I already know Sabrina told Zoe where I was. She told you.”

Evan doesn’t deny it. 

“So how was the rest of your night?” Connor asks caustically. “Did you and my sister have the perfect sparkly evening you were after?”

“Obviously not, “ Evan says, his brow furrowing. “We came straight home.” 

“Shame. My parents dropped a few grand on that dress. Is it just me or did Zoe look like a cotton ball in that thing?”

“What is the  _ matter  _ with you?” Evan says desperately. 

“I’m chill,” Connor says with a shrug. He’s not going to get into this with Evan. “What’s wrong with you?”

Evan chews his lip. 

Connor decides he’s not interested in hearing his answer anymore. He turns to go. 

“I kissed Zoe,” Evan announces. 

Connor flinches. 

“Well. She kissed me. Or- or. We kissed. Me and Zoe.”

“Mazel tov,” Connor drawls unhappily. 

“I just… I… it was my first kiss?” He sounds so confused and conflicted and Connor hates it. He hates it but he can’t even look at Evan right now. 

“Do you want me to bake you a cake?” Connor mutters darkly. “‘Congrats on sticking your tongue down my sister’s throat?’ What do you want me to say?”

“I didn’t want you to-to find out from someone else,” Evan says softly. 

Connor wants to punch him. He actually wants to punch him. He could take Evan, he thinks. Sure he’s skinny and Evan’s stronger, but Connor could take him. He’s scrappy. He’s angry enough. 

He whips around to face Evan. “And you thought, what, that I’d be even remotely interested in that information after everything else tonight?” Connor says, his tone icy. 

“Well… I-I…”

“Fucking save it, Evan,” Connor goes on. “I really don’t fucking need this tonight. Like. My mom’s been arrested for being a drunken idiot and she, just, like,  _ outed  _ me to everyone I know. Do you really think I need to hear all about you and my sister continuing on with your ridiculous heterosexual courtship? Like bravo for being  _ normal,  _ I guess, but I really don’t fucking care.”

Evan looks crushed. Totally crushed. 

Connor takes a shuddering breath. Suddenly he feels like he could cry. 

Why did he even come home? 

“You’re my b-best friend,” Evan says. “And I kn-know you’re hurting but you do  _ not  _ get to be an asshole to me.”

Connor feels his eyes prickle with tears. He blinks and looks away. “You heard what my mom said then?”

Evan nods. “Not all of it but…”

“I’m sorry. About what she said about you.”

* * *

Evan blinks. Feels his chest tighten.

“Th-that doesn’t m-matter,” he manages to choke out, because it doesn’t, he can’t let it matter, that’s not what’s important right. “I-I-I’m worried about you.”

“Not that worried,” Connor mutters. “You ran off after my sister. Didn’t even think about me.”

Evan flinches. Feels his face burn. 

“I d-did think about you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I w-was going to find you b-but Zoe was upset and she… she d-didn’t want me to leave.”

Connor just glares at him, his face hard. “You went after her first. You picked her.” Before Evan can reply, he continues. “And hey, it worked out well for you, right? You got a  _ kiss _ out of it. Nicely played.”

Evan has the distinct impression that Connor’s… mocking him. 

Takes in Connor’s lack of tie and the hickey on his neck and his generally dishevelled outfit and feels… weird and cold and hollow. 

He doesn’t know what Reg and Connor were doing, exactly, but it probably wasn’t just  _ kissing. _

Evan’s such a fucking loser. 

Connor’s off doing fuck knows what with stupidly pretty college guys and Evan’s freaking out over a kiss. All bent out of shape over a stupid little kiss that he wasn’t even very good at. 

“I’m sorry,” Evan says, hating how his voice is just… quiet and timid and weak. “Zoe was… I wanted to go f-find you. I w-waited for you, I-I-I…”

He gives up trying to say whatever it is he’s trying to say. 

He doesn’t even know. It’s not like he can fix this. 

It’s not like…

He puts his hands in his pockets. Looks at the ground. “You… y-you’re probably t-tired, I-I should l-let you sleep.”

“Sure,” says Connor flatly. 

Evan blinks. He feels like he might cry. 

“I’m j-just glad you’re safe?” he says weakly. “I… I am s-so fucking s-sorry, I-I d-didn’t… I don’t…” He takes in a deep breath. Tries to steady himself. “I’m s-sorry about your mom. About n-not finding you. About Zoe. All of it.” 

Connor doesn’t move to go. Just stares at him. 

Evan blinks. His eyes sting. 

“I f-figured I’d fuck it all up, anyway,” he mutters to himself, looking at the ground. 

It’s quiet. 

Connor takes a few steps toward him. 

Sits down next to him on the edge of the low fence by the bottom of the driveway he’s been perched on since he started waiting for Connor. 

Evan isn’t sure what to say. 

He hates it. 

This isn’t… this isn’t how it normally is with Connor. 

And he hates it.

* * *

“Um, I’m sorry, but I’m pretty sure this is  _ my  _ pity party,” Connor mumbles. Takes a drag of his cigarette. 

Evan looks shocked. 

He sits down beside Connor. “You’re right. Sorry.”

Connor sighs. “Fuck I’m sorry okay? I’m all..” he gestures vaguely. He feels too shitty and small to keep arguing. His eyes sting some more. “My mom fucking hates me… and I know it’s not like. A surprise but…”

“I should have checked on you,” Evan says. “I probably c-called you like a hundred times?”

Connor almost quirks a smile. “I know dude. I saw.”

Evan lets out a breath. “I never know what I’m supposed to be doing. I fuck up everything.”

“No, sorry, still my party,” Connor says. Evan laughs sort of weakly. Connor rubs a hand over his face. “Fuck sorry that’s… selfish. That’s… fuck.  _ I’m  _ fucking this up okay?” 

“You’re allowed to-to be all…” Evan gestures vaguely back at him. “I’m sorry. I sh-shouldn’t have just like. Dumped that stuff about m-me and Zoe on you.”

Connor shrugs. “It’s cool,” he lies. “I’m happy for you, man. I know that’s, like, what you wanted or whatever.”

Somehow that makes Evan look sadder. Which is the opposite of what Connor wants. 

“You ask her out yet?” Connor presses on, hating himself. 

“No,” Evan says, sounding alarmed. “I th-thought. The uh. The timing?”

Connor nods. “Yeah. Probably best to wait.”

Evan looks at him for a long moment. Connor’s suddenly very aware of what he looks like. His messy hair and the hickey he caught sight of in his reflection on the ride home. How he can smell Reg’s cologne on him. Evan’s sitting so close, he wonders if Evan can smell it too. 

He feels a little unnerved by how Evan’s looking. How he’s frowning. 

“Are you okay?” Evan asks him. 

Connor shrugs. He sniffs awkwardly. “Probably not,” he admits. “Like I haven’t even heard from my dad except to say he was at the police station?”

“I’m sorry,” Evan says again. “That… r-really sucks.”

Connor nods. He’s stupidly crying now. He’s sort of afraid he won’t be able to stop. He pulls his knees to his chest, his entire body sore, and folds his arms on top of them and just cries. 

Evan wraps an arm around Connor’s shoulders. Connor just cries. He hates that Evan keeps seeing him like this, seeing him break down. Evan rubs his back and talks to him softly, reassuringly, saying it’ll be okay even though both of them know he can’t possibly know that. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been an asshole,” Connor whispers. “I don’t. I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?” Evan asks. 

“Have a friend who actually gives a shit,” Connor says. He blinks a few times. “Have a friend at all.”

Evan nods. “Me either.”

They stay out there for a while longer. The sky starts to turn a watery gray. Connor starts shivering. He’s exhausted. He’s been out all night. 

“You should go to bed,” Evan tells him softly. 

Connor nods. 

He has to coax his body into standing. Evan ends up offering his hand and helping Connor to his feet. They say goodbye at the foot of the driveway. Connor wearily heads up the driveway and into the dark house. 

Zoe’s fast asleep on the sofa in her pajamas. Her hair is still all curled. She’s got a blanket wrapped around her, a throw pillow under her head. 

She wasn’t waiting up for him, Connor tells himself. That’s just him seeing what he wants to see. 

He goes upstairs to change into some sweats. Washes his face in his and Zoe’s bathroom. 

Heads back downstairs. Grabs the throw off the back of the loveseat and wraps it around himself, then sits at the end of the couch where Zoe’s asleep. He’s going to wait up until his parents get home, Connor tells himself. 

He doesn’t last. 

The next thing he remembers is his dad, still in his tux, his eyes tired, shaking his shoulder. “Hey bud,” his dad says, his voice scratchy and tired. Connor looks over to see his mom is perched on the loveseat. She looks pale and sort of ill. Beside him, Connor sees Zoe sitting up, looking beyond tired and young and scared. 

“I think we all need to talk,” his dad says. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "7 Minutes in Heaven (Atavan Halen)" by Fall Out Boy. 
> 
> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! at the Disco.


	25. One Awkward Silence, Two Hopes You Cry Yourself To Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home is where the mezuzah is.

The last week of school before winter break is… weird. 

Everyone’s kind of stir-crazy, basically already checked out, but they’re all still at school, which is… definitely different to Evan’s old school in Chino. 

The week before any vacation was basically treated like an extension of vacation at Evan’s old school. It’s weird that there are actually people here. 

Even if they won’t stop talking about Cynthia Murphy getting arrested at cotillion.

It’s big news, it seems. 

Big enough news that Evan even hears some of the  _ teachers  _ talking about it. 

Fucking hell. 

Zoe and Connor appear to have slightly different approaches to dealing with it. Zoe shows up to school every morning with a full face of makeup and a cute outfit and holds her head high. No one dares say anything about her mom to her face. 

Connor, on the other hand…

Evan knows Connor is downplaying how bad things are when Evan asks, but he’s not blind. People keep talking to him, jeering at him about his mom, giving him hell, and it is taking every bit of self-control for Evan not to just lose his shit and start punching people. 

Instead, he walks Connor to class at every possible opportunity. Sticks to him as closely as he can, trying to see if he can prevent some of the bullshit. 

Word about Evan facing off with Brian Harris at cotillion has gotten around. If he’s around Connor, people leave him alone. 

Evan can tell that Connor hates it. 

Hates it a lot. 

Connor’s on edge all week. Snaps at Evan a lot. Isn’t eating. 

Evan doesn’t know what else to do. 

He just… can’t let people talk to Connor that way. 

He can’t. 

A few days before winter break, their English teacher asks both Connor and Evan to stay behind after class. Mr. Stevens seems decent enough, sure, but Evan’s got this sudden fear that he’s going to, like, demand details about Mrs. Murphy’s meltdown. 

“I wanted to talk to the two of you about attending a national creative writing workshop in early January,” says Mr. Stevens, his voice bright. “In Washington D.C.”

Evan knows he’s staring. 

Knows he must look like such an idiot. 

But… 

What the fuck?

What the _ fuck? _

He looks at Connor, who looks interested. “Is that the James Madison Young Writers’ Workshop?” 

Mr. Stevens smiles. “That’s the one. We’ve got a couple of seniors going already but extra registrations just opened up for juniors. Based on your work so far this year, I put your names forward.”

Evan genuinely can’t get his head around this. 

“So, wait, what is it?” 

Mr. Stevens nods. “It’s a three day workshop in Washington D.C. for high school upperclassmen who show promise in creative writing to hone their skills. There’ll be creative writing lecturers from Ivy League universities there to help critique your work and give you feedback on where to go next.”

“It’s pretty prestigious,” Connor says, and he’s starting to sound genuinely excited. “I heard about it at Hanover. 

“It’s an excellent opportunity,” Mr. Stevens agrees. “Our school has a standing invite for selected seniors each year. Occasionally it opens up to juniors, like it has this year.”

Evan blinks. “So we don’t have to, like, apply?”

Mr. Stevens shakes his head. “The school has a good enough reputation that they’ll accept our students based on staff recommendation.” 

That’s…

Fuck, that’s weird. 

A thought occurs to Evan. “Does this count as an extracurricular?” he asks. “I, uh…”

“I talked to the principal,” says Mr. Stevens. “Based on your excellent grades and my recommendation, he’s willing to let you attend.” He pauses for a moment, then continues. “We will, however, need a parent or guardian chaperone.” He looks at Evan. “He suggested that your aunt might be able to accompany you.”

Evan blinks a few more times. He’s just…

Fuck. 

This is…

This is a lot. 

“I’ll ask her?” he says, a little hesitantly. 

“All you can do,” says Mr. Stevens. “Take tonight to think about it, but if you could let me know tomorrow what you’ve decided, that would be appreciated.”

Connor seems genuinely pleased about the whole thing, Evan notices on their drive home. He chats happily about how he knew some upperclassmen at Hanover who’d attended this workshop. 

“I read some of the stuff they’d written when they got back and it was awesome,” he says enthusiastically. “Just… it’s a really cool opportunity? Working with college professors when you’re still in high school? And, like, real authors. Plus, it looks awesome on your college application.”

“S-sure,” says Evan, feeling his face get hot, his palms get sweaty. 

College. 

What the fuck, he’s not…

Heidi keeps saying he should be planning for college, but who is he kidding?

Who the fuck is he kidding? He’s not going to college. How the fuck is he going to pay for college?

Heidi’s already doing so much for him. Too much for him. 

He can’t fucking ask her to pay for college. 

Even if he gets some kind of scholarship, it's not going to help. He has…

Evan has literally nothing going for him, there’s no  _ way  _ he’s going to…

_ No, _ he tries to tell himself.  _ You’ve worked hard. You’re working hard, and Heidi wants you to have a future.  _

Heidi’s his legal guardian. She wants him to do well, wants him to succeed. 

Except…

He’ll be seventeen in April. A year later, he’ll be eighteen. And once he’s eighteen…

Heidi won’t feel obligated to take care of him anymore. 

He’ll be on his own. 

The thought leaves him feeling kind of cold. Hollow. 

What’s the point of going to this fancy school, this fancy writers workshop, all these big fancy events when it’s all just temporary?

Connor looks at him, frowning a little. From the look on his face, something’s changed. Evan can’t figure out what he’s thinking. 

Evan wants to ask what’s wrong, but he can’t find the words. 

He thinks about Connor and Reg kissing in the driveway. 

Reg went to Hanover. Might have even gone to this fancy writing workshop, too. 

He belongs in this world, just like Connor. 

But Evan…

Evan’s only temporary.

* * *

School is a joke. 

Connor’s a laughing stock. People keep mocking him in the halls. Affecting high voices, saying, “Quitter refuses to be normal, insists on being a faggot just to spite me.”

Like his own mother would call him Quitter. 

They could at least be  _ accurate.  _

Connor’s been keeping track. The likelihood of him getting called a fag is up 47% this week. 

He was always better at stats than trig. 

Even the teachers are talking about it. 

The  _ teachers.  _

The only thing keeping him going is this upcoming trip to D.C. His dad signed the permission slip without even glancing at it. Connor might have asked him to spend a month in Amsterdam as a rent boy, and his dad probably would have signed off on it. 

If Connor just stays focused on D.C. he will get through this week. 

Evan’s being weird about the trip. He keeps saying Heidi is swamped at work and he’s not sure yet if he can go, but Connor suspects something else is up. 

He doesn’t press it though. 

Zoe and Connor aren’t speaking. Not that they were exactly speaking before the mess at cotillion but now they are definitely not speaking. She spent the night at Sabrina’s twice this week,  _ on school nights _ , and his dad hasn’t said a fucking word. 

The house feels weirdly empty and quiet without his mom. 

She had begged and pleaded with his dad to wait until after the holidays, but Larry wasn’t having it. He’d looked at her, disgusted, and said, “Why? Are you planning to make a fool of yourself at the office Christmas party too?” 

There’s no damage control this time. The story is out, no matter how much Zoe insists at school that her mom is just off visiting family. Each retelling gets more and more tragic. She’s with family. Orphan cousins. With special needs. 

Zoe’s laying it on too thick and everyone fucking  _ knows.  _

Evan should really give her some tips on how to lie effectively. 

He doesn’t say this to Evan because he’s already so quiet and weird with Connor right now. 

They seem to have come to a silent agreement not to talk about Zoe and cotillion. 

Connor takes a little bit of satisfaction in the fact that his mom is staying in the same rehab facility his parents sent him to after freshman year.  Because, according to his dad, it’s the best. And it fixed Connor. He’s not off snorting coke anymore. 

So Connor tries to focus on the D.C. trip. 

Reg texts him sometimes, but not a lot. Connor feels a little embarrassed about the whole thing. How he basically threw himself at this guy because he was sad. 

Pathetic. 

Equally as pathetic is the fact that despite the fact that they’re barely talking, Evan keeps showing up to walk with Connor to classes. 

Like he’s some kind of bodyguard. 

And it really irks him that it seems to  _ work.  _ People don’t seem to want to risk saying anything in front of Evan. Everyone knows how he stopped a drunk Brian Harris from even throwing a punch.

Alana Beck has also been tailing Connor during the day. Finding him in the library. Checking in. 

That’s what she keeps saying. 

“Just checking in.”

Connor doesn’t have a lot to check in about. 

He keeps thinking about it again. 

_ It.  _

Taking himself out of the equation. He worries Alana can see it on his face.  She keeps mentioning some mental health campaign she’s working on.  Connor wants to tell her that she ought to just. Pick a cause.  But he doesn’t. He doesn’t really mind her company. 

At the end of the week, Evan tells him that he and Heidi are going to Temple for the first night of Hanukkah. 

“Oh. Yeah Heidi’s Jewish,” Connor says. 

“Me too,” Evan practically whispers. 

“You are?” Connor didn’t know that. 

“Well… my-my mom was so…”

Connor nods. He finds that he hates realizing there’s something about Evan he doesn’t know. “That’s cool. Happy Hanukkah then.” 

Evan smiles a little. 

Connor notices he still doesn’t seem okay talking about his mom. 

He doesn’t know how to feel about that, other than sad. He thinks about what Evan said on the beach. That if he tried, he’d start screaming and never stop. 

Connor can relate. 

It’s how he feels whenever someone brings up  _ his  _ mom. 

Which isn’t fair. 

She’s still  _ here.  _

He’s sort of glad that rehab doesn’t let you have visitors the first week. If his dad makes him go, Connor isn’t sure he could face her. 

Zoe went with their dad to drop her off. 

Connor refused. 

He went to school. Didn’t even say goodbye.  _ See ya never, mom.  _

Connor hates himself for that. 

But she hates him and. He just can’t see her. He doesn’t want to. She hates him and he hates her for it.

* * *

Sabrina talks to Alana Beck now, Zoe’s noticed. 

It’s like she _wants_ them to get caught. 

Sabrina’s mother is  _ not  _ impressed that Sabrina has refused to stop being her friend. Zoe ignores her glares and stays over at the Patels two nights that week.  Because she wants to be close to Sabrina. 

Sabrina reacts badly to Zoe saying she and Evan finally kissed after cotillion. 

“Well are you dating now?”

Zoe shrugs. “He hasn’t asked me out or anything. I don’t know.”

“Well then. Maybe we should stop…” Sabrina says, frowning. “I’m not… if you’re with Evan then we shouldn’t…”

Zoe does not want that. Sabrina is the only thing keeping her sane right now.  She goes down on her three times that night. Like Zoe’s got something to prove. Maybe she does. She doesn’t know. She just knows she can’t let Sabrina disappear on her. She can’t take that. 

Sabrina tastes good too. 

Zoe tells her. 

Tells her how pretty she sounds when Zoe pushes her right to the edge.  All helpless and whining and biting her lip to keep quiet. Zoe likes it best when Sabrina can’t keep totally quiet. When she whimpers and begs until Zoe finishes her off. 

“You’re going to get us in trouble,” Sabrina complains at lunch that week. “I almost fell asleep in math.”

Zoe keeps her up the next night too. She has no shame anymore. 

Maybe she has _some_ shame. She tells everyone who will listen that her mom is taking care of relatives. Nobody outside of her family knows what really happened. 

Evan’s quieter in study hall than normal. He seems spooked about something. He keeps getting these wide eyed terrified looks on his face. 

She doesn’t know how to fix it. She can’t fix anything. She’s someone things are fixed  _ for _ . She can’t do the fixing. 

She can’t do the fixing. 

Connor and her dad fight over dinner on Thursday night. Connor’s not eating. Their dad is pissed. Connor swears he’s not hungry. His cheeks look especially hollow. 

Zoe can’t fix that. 

She and Connor aren’t even talking. He’s pissed she kissed Evan. They fought about it on Sunday morning while their mom packed.

“Can you just stop being such a jealous bitch about this, Connor?” Zoe shouted at him when he made some comment under his breath about her and Evan sucking face last night. 

“He’s my best friend, can’t you just… pick someone else?” Connor had yelled back. 

“No,” Zoe had said back. “He’s never going to want you back. Deal with it.”

She tries not to think about how hurt Connor looked when she said it. Like. It’s _true_.  But she maybe didn’t need to say it like that. 

Zoe keeps looking at the hickey on Connor’s neck though. Wondering about where it came from. 

It can’t be Evan. He’s straight. Like her. 

The hickey didn’t come from Evan, Zoe reassures herself. There’s no fucking way. She’s stupid to even worry about it. 

But Connor doesn’t talk to anybody else so who the fuck gave him a hickey? 

Hickeys don’t just materialize. 

Zoe mentions it to Sabrina after it bugs her for almost a week. Her brother is not the sort of person who just. Gets hickeys. 

Sabrina’s cheeks go kind of pink. “It was Reggie, wasn’t it?” She says, looking a bit uncomfortable. “They were sort of all over each other at Alana’s?”

Zoe pulls a face. “And Alana wasn’t pissed that her date was screwing around with my asshole brother?” 

Sabrina shrugs. “I mean. Alana and Reg are both gay so… probably not?”

Zoe feels her heart drop at the casual use of gay. Sabrina… she shouldn’t be saying shit like that. In public. 

She is going to get them into trouble. 

Madison joins them at the lunch table. She’s been not-so-secretly gloating all week because Zoe’s early debut was such a disaster. Zoe hates it but doesn’t say anything. She can’t afford to have people talking about her the way they’re talking about Connor. 

“My parents are at dad’s Christmas party tonight, so Tommy’s getting a couple of kegs. You in?”

Zoe says she is immediately. “I could use a drink.”

Sabrina’s eyes slide over in Zoe’s direction, but she doesn’t say anything. Zoe can practically hear her thinking that addictions run in families. But Zoe needs a fucking break. She’s not like her mom or Connor. She’s in complete control over what she does. 

And what she doesn’t do. Like embarrass herself publicly. She’s not doing that.

* * *

The day before school lets out for winter break, Heidi gets a phone call from Evan’s English teacher.

“I just wanted to follow up with you about the James Madison Young Writers’ Workshop in D.C.,” says the teacher. He’s a young guy and seems pretty enthusiastic. “I realize it was short notice, but it would be great if we could get an indication as to whether Evan will be able to attend.”

There’s a sinking feeling in Heidi’s chest. “This is the first I’m hearing about it,” she admits. “Tell me more?”

The teacher launches into an enthusiastic explanation, which Heidi tries her best to concentrate on. It’s hard, because all she can think about is the fact that Evan didn’t tell her. 

He didn’t even mention it. 

“It’s a great opportunity,” says Mr. Stevens. “I know Evan’s new this year but the work he’s been producing has been excellent. He’s a talented writer and I’d hate for him to miss out on something like this. It looks great on college applications.”

“It sounds amazing,” Heidi says honestly. “What’s happening with accommodation? Supervision? I don’t love the idea of sending him off by himself.”

Mr. Stevens pauses for a moment. “Evan didn’t mention it at all?” he asks, sounding taken aback. “He said he was going to ask you about coming along as a chaperone.”

Fuck. 

Evan didn’t say a word about any of it. 

“I’ve been working late,” Heidi lies, not wanting to make it seem like her kid doesn’t talk to her. “We’ve been ships in the night, you know how it is. But I can definitely get some time off to chaperone.” She pauses, thinking about it. “I went to college in D.C., it’ll be nice to visit again.”

Mr. Stevens is back to his sunny enthusiasm. “Well, it’s a Wednesday to Friday conference, but our seniors are planning to stay for the weekend, too. If you wanted to do that as well to spend some time in the city, that would be fine.” He pauses for a moment, sounding thoughtful when he continues. “There’s only one other junior attending and I know Evan and Connor are good friends. If you were keen to spend the weekend in D.C, it might be worth seeing if the Murphys are alright with Connor tagging along for those extra days if it’s okay with you?”

Heidi thinks about cotillion. About Cynthia Murphy’s very public meltdown. 

She’s still got a bruise on her face that hurts when she covers it with makeup every morning. 

Connor could probably stand to get out of California for a while. 

“I’ll talk to Larry,” she says. “I think that sounds great.”

She throws herself into her work the best she can after the phone call, but her head’s just swimming with thoughts. She can’t stop thinking about this writers’ workshop and how Evan didn’t even mention it. 

Fuck. 

Heidi ends up looking up the workshop online and realizes quickly that it’s a pretty big deal. There are college professors working with students one-on-one, creative writing professors from Harvard and Yale and Columbia and Princeton, along with published poets and novelists. Ones even she’s heard of, and she’s not much of a reader. 

Evan didn’t mention it. 

He didn’t say a word. 

Why wouldn’t he tell her about this?

She’s so busy staring at this website that she doesn’t notice there’s someone at her office door until they’ve knocked more times than is probably necessary. She looks up to see Larry Murphy standing there, holding a bag of Chinese food. 

He looks like hell. 

Sad and old and absolutely wrecked, like he hasn’t slept all week. 

Heidi suspects that he hasn’t. 

Her chest clenches uncomfortably. Larry’s been on her mind this week. Ever since cotillion. She’s worried about the Murphys, worried for the kids, but she doesn’t want to stick her nose in where it’s not wanted. 

Where it’s not helpful. 

Especially after Cynthia basically accused her of having an affair with Larry in front of everyone in the community. 

“Hey,” she says, clearing a space on her desk, moving her laptop a little. “Come sit.”

Larry sits down, puts the bag on the desk then looks at Heidi’s laptop. “The James Madison Young Writers’ Workshop,” he says slowly. He looks at Heidi. “Connor’s going to that.”

“Evan is, too,” says Heidi. She sighs, her shoulders sagging. “I just got a call from his English teacher. He didn’t even mention it to me.”

Larry frowns. “He didn’t?”

Heidi shakes her head. Sighs again. “He’s going,” she says firmly. “It’s too big an opportunity for him to miss out on.” She looks at Larry. “I said I’d chaperone, by the way. Mr. Stevens said that the seniors are staying in D.C. for the weekend after the workshop and suggested I ask you if Connor could do the same so he’s not the only one who has to go home early.”

Larry looks relieved. “That sounds great. I think Connor could do with some time away from this place.”

“Agreed,” says Heidi heavily. She closes her laptop and looks at Larry. “How are you holding up?”

Larry’s shoulders sag. He rubs his face. He looks so much older than he is. 

“Cynthia’s in rehab,” he says bluntly. “We’re trying to keep it under wraps as much as possible, but… I was never good at damage control.”

Heidi stares at him for a moment. “She is?”

Larry nods wearily. “Zoe and I dropped her off on Monday morning.” He winces. “Connor wouldn’t come. He’s… he’s not eating. Not talking to me. It’s bad, Heidi. Really bad.”

Heidi nods. Blinks a few times. Tries to keep it together. 

She’s just… devastated for the kids. 

Zoe and Connor aren’t her kids, but she’s known them their whole lives. She’s been a part of their lives since they were small. And sure, since they hit their teenage years she’s been less involved, and the last year and a half has been rocky with David’s death and Cynthia’s meltdown, but she hasn’t stopped caring. 

She’s never stopped caring. 

She thinks back to Zoe calling her Aunt Heidi the night of cotillion. She hasn’t done that in years. Heidi can pretty much pinpoint exactly when it stopped - around the time Connor was in middle school and the rumor about Zoe being David’s kid started floating around. 

That’s when the kids started distancing themselves a little from her. Or maybe she distanced herself from them. She honestly can’t remember. 

It’s not fair. None of this is fair. 

Zoe, who’s so desperate to fit in, who seems to be losing herself in the whirlwind of society, changing who she is to fit the mold. 

Connor, who can’t change who he is and shouldn’t have to, who’s so clearly hurting, so clearly in pain, struggling to find ways to cope that won’t destroy him. 

And somehow, there’s Evan in the middle, trying to hold them both up. 

Heidi worries that he’ll crumble under the weight of it all. 

Evan is kind and strong and compassionate. He wants to make things better for people, even though his past has horrors that Heidi knows she’s barely scratched the surface of. 

He cares about Zoe. 

He cares about Connor. 

He’s trying to figure out how to care about them both without making it all fall down, because the Murphy kids don’t share well. 

They never have. 

“What can I do?” Heidi asks, making sure her voice is even and sure. “I want to help, Larry.”

Larry blinks. 

For a moment, she’s terrified he might just burst into tears. 

“I have no fucking idea what I’m doing,” he admits quietly. “I… this is too late. All of this is too late, Cynthia’s been a mess for far too long and I should have stopped it sooner.”

Heidi frowns. “Maybe,” she says honestly. “But thinking like that’s not going to help you now.”

Larry sinks into the chair, like a puppet who’s had its strings cut. He looks so tired. 

“She needs help,” he says. “But I don’t know if she wants it. I don’t know if rehab is even going to make a difference.”

“It might not,” Heidi replies. 

Larry laughs humorlessly. “Loving the optimism, Herzberg.”

“I’m not going to bullshit you, Murphy,” she replies immediately. “You know that’s not me.”

Larry looks at her, this searching look that’s almost uncomfortable to be subjected to. 

She doesn’t look away. 

“I can’t apologize enough for what Cynthia did to you,” he says, his voice a little shaky. “Not just on Saturday night.”

“You’re not responsible for your wife’s actions,” Heidi says. 

Larry shakes his head. 

“I let you down. When David died. I should have been there for you, and I wasn’t.”

Heidi feels a lump in her throat. Her eyes stinging. 

“You had your family to consider.”

Larry looks at her. “You and David were family,” he says, and he looks genuinely upset now, and it’s making Heidi dangerously close to losing it. “You were both always there for us. For our kids.” He shakes his head, seemingly angry. “You and David were always there for birthdays and Christmases, for all the important events. You even came to Zoe’s guinea pig funeral.”

“It was a gerbil,” Heidi reminds him softly, smiling a little at the memory. “His name was Ice Cream.”

Larry looks even more devastated. “See? You and David were always there. Always. And when David died, we left you to mourn him alone. I… I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself, Heidi.”

“Larry,” Heidi says gently. “Connor tried to kill himself a few months before David died. He wasn’t even sixteen, he…” She swallows hard. “The kids come first. Always. That’s how it should be. That’s being a good parent.”

Larry looks so small. “I didn’t get  _ that  _ right, either.” He rubs his face again. Swallows hard. “David came to see me. Maybe a month before he died? He said he was worried about Connor.”

Heidi feels her stomach drop. “I didn’t know,” she admits. “I didn’t know he did that.”

Larry shakes his head. His eyes and nose are red. “I told him to stay in his lane,” he says a little bitterly. “That he should shut up and focus on his own life. That he didn’t have kids and never would so he should just… shut up and leave me to parent on my own.” He wipes his face. “I was… such an asshole to him, Heidi. I know how hard you guys tried for kids, that was… unnecessarily cruel.”

Heidi feels a pang of anger in her chest. “Yeah,” she manages to choke out. “It was.”

“We never really talked about it?” says Larry weakly. “Just kind of… pretended the conversation never happened, went on with our lives. But David calling me out… I made the call to send Connor to Hanover the next day. Knew I needed to do something, knew he was right, I just…” He lets out a breath. “We didn’t talk about it. And a few weeks later, I watched him drop dead in front of me.”

Heidi knows she’s crying now. Knows there are tears streaming down her face, ruining her makeup, but she can’t bring herself to care. 

Larry had been there that day. 

She only remembers flashes of it, fragments, images, but there are things she can picture so vividly. 

Larry jumping into action, calling an ambulance immediately. 

Heidi kneeling on the floor and doing CPR, desperately trying to keep him alive. 

The paramedics arriving and Larry wrapping his arms around Heidi, gently but firmly pulling her away from David’s body. 

Larry driving her to the hospital. 

He’d been sitting right next to her when the doctors came out and told them that David was gone. 

“Fuck,” Larry mutters. He moves closer and puts his arm around Heidi’s shoulder. “Fuck, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“I miss him?” Heidi says in a small voice. “I miss him every day. It’s like someone ripped a hole in me, I miss him so fucking much.”

“I know,” says Larry, and pulls her into a hug. “I know.”

* * *

Heidi collects herself in a short amount of time. She wipes her eyes quickly. In moments it hardly looks like she’s cried at all. 

They’re quiet for a long time. 

Larry opens his mouth after a while. “Maybe… I know you’re Jewish but… if you and Evan wanted to come over on Christmas?”

Heidi smiles sadly. “I’d like that.”

“At least we won’t have to suffer Cynthia’s latest fad diet?” He offers weakly. 

Heidi gives him a pale imitation of a smile. “What are you going to do about the kids, Larry?”

He has no idea. 

That’s what brought him here. He’s flailing. He’s lost. His mother has threatened to fly out and help with them, but Larry can’t do that to her. Can’t expect her to take care of his children. She’s meant to be going on a cruise with the ladies from her church this Christmas. He’s told her she should enjoy the cruise as planned. 

He refuses to stand back and let someone else handle this situation. 

But he doesn’t know where to start. 

“Neither of them will talk to me,” he admits to Heidi. “And they’re not speaking. It’s been nothing but silence.” Larry frowns. “I can’t stand it.”

“So what’s your plan?” Heidi asks him. 

He shrugs helplessly. He doesn’t  _ know.  _ Everything he’s tried has failed. The kids avoid him, avoid each other. Zoe stayed over at Sabrina’s twice already this week and he let her even though they were school nights because at least he knew she’s not by herself. 

“I just need… I need one civil conversation. I need Connor to actually eat something and Zoe to just…. stop pretending that everything is fine.”

Heidi nods. Purses her lips. “You remember how we’d break in the new interns every summer?” She says, her voice thoughtful. 

Larry nods. He remembers vividly. It was David’s favorite time of the year. 

They’d assign them all to a case. A complicated one. They’d tell the interns that they needed to work together on it and give them a conference room for the week to see how they went. The interns could ask questions but they had to work together and rely on each other to figure out and agree on an approach to arguing it. 

“Maybe you three need something like that. Something to work on together. Establish some common language?”

Larry nods, turning the idea over in his mind. 

He can’t think of a project or task that could unite the kids. Cynthia had already put up all of the Christmas decorations. He can’t force them to find her a gift together because honestly he wouldn’t blame either of them if they weren’t interested in giving her a present this year. 

Heidi eats one of the spring rolls Larry brought. 

She smiles. “Okay so hear me out… but could you bake cookies? I know Cynthia used to do that with them when they were super young.”

Until she went on her anti-sugar kick. And then whatever phase followed. 

But the idea unearths an idea for Larry. 

It might totally backfire. Or just not work at all. 

But when the kids were young, one thing they’d do a few times a year was a pizza night. 

They’d make pizza totally from scratch. Make the dough themselves (they did use a jar of sauce because Larry’s patience didn’t extend to stewing tomatoes with an eight and a nine year old). 

The kids went nuts for it when they were little. They would argue what toppings belonged on the pizza, making cases for pepperoni and olives and how much cheese was appropriate. 

Maybe he can try that. 

It might not work but at least it’s something Larry knows he can do because he’s done it before. 

“Thank you,” he says to Heidi. “Seriously thank you so much. You have been… far too kind about this situation.”

Heidi shrugs him off. “I consider you and the kids family. I can’t imagine what this has been like for you, but I’m happy to do what I can.”

They talk logistics about this trip to Washington D.C. 

They talk through a few of their respective cases. Heidi’s eyes are bright and happy when she talks about an immigration case she’s been handling. She sheepishly boasts that she hasn’t had a single loss since she’s started working as a public defender. 

“David would be so proud of you,” Larry says suddenly. His voice is rough and thick with emotion. “He would be over the moon for you.”

Heidi nods. “I like to think so…” She blinks a few times. “God, I… I hate that he’s missing this? My work and getting to know Evan? I hate that he’s not here for this.”

“He would have loved Evan,” Larry says firmly. “You know he would have already filed adoption papers if he were here.”

Heidi’s eyes go wide. 

She clears her throat. “I’ve been thinking about it…” she confesses. “But I. Maybe this is stupid, but I’m terrified if I brought it up to Evan that… that he might say no. That he wouldn’t want me to… I mean he didn’t even tell me about this trip to D.C. Maybe that’s… not what he wants this to be?”

Larry frowns. “You should talk to him,” he says, making his mind up. 

“But… what if he tells me no?” Heidi asks, her voice soft and vulnerable and sad. 

Larry can’t imagine what that would be like. To be afraid that by offering your kid a permanent home, you could risk pushing them away. He thinks to himself that if his kids weren’t biologically his… well they certainly wouldn’t pick Larry. If they had the option to try again with someone else, at this juncture, Larry’s pretty sure that they would. 

“That kid cares about you so much,” Larry says firmly. He knows that. He can see it every time he watches Evan and Heidi interact. Evan thinks Heidi hung the moon. He loves her, even if he’s not familiar enough with how that looks to express that. “But maybe he just. Needs time. This is all still so new. Maybe he hasn’t even thought about it?”

Heidi nods. 

“Just talk to him. No use working yourself into knots thinking he’ll say no without evidence.”

He thanks Heidi at least a dozen times before he returns to his office for the rest of the day. Before he leaves, Larry puts in notice that he’ll be taking the entire two weeks surrounding the holidays off. He needs to spend the time at home. 

He hasn’t done that enough. 

Not nearly enough. 

On his way home, Larry stops at the grocery store and picks up all of the ingredients for pizza. He goes all out, grabbing anything you could feasibly put on a pizza. 

When he gets home, Larry spreads all of the ingredients out on the counter. He goes upstairs and changes into jeans and a t-shirt from his undergrad. 

When he comes back downstairs and into the kitchen, Larry is surprised to see Connor standing at the counter with a calculating look on his face. He’s frowning at a tomato. 

“Hey bud,” Larry says. 

Connor looks up at him. “Are we making pizza?” He says. 

_ We.  _

Larry smiles. “Yeah. I figured we haven’t done that in a while.” Connor looks surprised. “Want to help me get it started?”

Connor nods. 

He pulls his hair back into a loose knot at the back of his neck. Rolls up the sleeve of his hoodie. There are scratches inside of one of his skinny wrists and Larry bites his tongue to stop himself from demanding to know when those got there. 

Connor doesn’t respond well when Larry confronts him head on. Connor does better when he’s the one to come to his dad. 

So Larry bites his tongue. 

Connor goes to the kitchen sink and washes his hands. “What should I do?”

Larry and Connor get started on making the dough. They mix the ingredients together, consulting the same recipe Larry relied on when the kids were small. Connor asks questions about the sort of flour they’re using and they have a slightly stilted conversation about how yeast works and by the time they have a working dough prepared, Zoe is standing in the doorway watching them with interest. 

“Pizza?” She says quietly. 

“Yeah,” Connor says. It’s the most he’s said to his sister in almost a week. 

“We were just going to make the sauce?” Larry offers. “I figure you two are old enough now that I can trust you with knives.”

Zoe nods tentatively. 

Like her brother, she pulls back her hair and washes her hands. She grabs a chopping board from one of their many drawers. 

Eyes the ingredients suspiciously. “None of this shit is vegan, right?”

Larry and Connor both laugh. 

“I think we can safely assume we’re not vegans anymore,” Larry says. 

“Thought we were Buddhists,” Connor mutters. 

That gets a smile out of his sister. 

A real smile. 

Larry feels lighter just seeing it. 

The three of them get to work on the sauce. They talk quietly as they do, talking about tomatoes of all things. 

Which Connor seems to know a lot about. He’s stirring them into a pot per Larry’s instructions, and he comments that tomatoes are a good source of vitamins C and K. 

“What even is vitamin K?” Zoe asks. She’s busy shredding some of the cheese Larry bought. 

“It uh, helps your blood clot?” Connor says, stirring. “Evan told me. He like, knows everything about food science and whatever. And it helps calcium, like. Do its thing with bones and whatever.” His cheeks and ears go red. 

Not the most scientific answer, Larry thinks, but he’s relieved to know that even if he doesn’t eat much, Connor knows some things about nutrition. 

“Cool,” Zoe says. She goes back to grating cheese. It’s quiet. Peaceful almost. “Can I turn on some Christmas music?” She asks. 

Connor and Larry exchange a look. Zoe normally refuses to talk about music anymore. “Sure, sweetheart,” Larry tells her. 

Zoe plugs her iPod into their stereo downstairs. Some contemporary cover of “Silver Bells” starts. It’s nice; the atmosphere feels a lot lighter suddenly. 

Once the sauce is finished, Zoe and Larry roll out the dough and Connor preheats the oven. They cover their uncooked pizza with the homemade sauce and that’s when the debating begins, much to Larry’s relief. 

“You cannot put black olives on this, Zoe,” Connor says. “Black olives are nasty.”

“You wanna put spinach on it!” Zoe protests. “How is that not worse. Spinach is just, like, leaves!”

“Black olives have the consistency of, like, eating eyeballs!” Connor returns. 

“Oh my god, it was Halloween in second grade and they weren’t really eyeballs Connor, move on with your life!” Zoe giggles. Connor flings a black olive at her. They’re both laughing. Larry remembers the eyeball incident vividly; he’d taken the afternoon off to come to the school’s Halloween costume parade. They had a lot of activities after, one of them being the game where you stick your hand into something “gross” that was supposed to be ingredients in a witch’s potion. 

Connor (who had been dressed up as a vampire) had freaked out and started to cry. Apparently he was terrified of eyeballs. He’d spit out his little plastic fangs and run off crying to Cynthia, who was working the festivities with the other parents on the PTA. 

The kids debate the pizza toppings for a long time. Zoe insists on putting pineapple on a quarter of the pizza which Connor says is “genuinely despicable” and “a crime against pizza.” The kids divide up toppings and argue about cheese coverage and then the pizza finally goes into the oven. 

And they have to wait. 

The music keeps playing and Connor’s eyes light up suddenly. He looks at Zoe, surprised. “Is this Fall Out Boy?”

She shrugs, inspecting her fingernails. “Yeah I think it was on that Christmas CD you sent home for me last year.”

Connor’s neck and ears go red again. Larry holds himself back from just hugging him. 

Larry hadn’t know there was a CD. 

Zoe starts to clean up the mess they’ve made of the kitchen island. Connor pitches in after a few moments, saying he doesn’t want to leave it for Blanca to get stuck dealing with tomorrow. Larry watches his kids cleaning up together, not fighting, not snapping at one another. 

It’s better than he could have hoped. 

Now if only he can make sure Connor actually eats the damn pizza…. 

The oven beeps. Connor is the one to don the oven mitts and take the pizza out. He shows it to Zoe and his dad, asking if they think it’s finished cooking. 

“I think so,” Zoe says, looking at Larry. “What do you think, dad?”

He will eat this pizza raw if it means his kids will talk to him. He genuinely doesn’t care. 

They let the pizza cool a little. Set out plates and napkins on the table. Larry’s the one charged with cutting the pie into slices because Connor says he hates geometry and Zoe is still straightening out the napkins on the table. 

And then the three of them sit down to eat. 

And Larry’s holding his breath. 

Connor takes the tiniest bite of his slice. Chews. Swallows. Has a sip of water. It’s something. 

“So, like,” Zoe says with her mouth full. “Not to be a huge bummer or whatever but… are we gonna even see mom on Christmas?”

Larry looks at her. “That’s entirely up to the two of you.” 

“Well, I wanna go,” Zoe says immediately. 

Connor studies his pizza and takes another, somehow smaller bite. “I’ll do whatever,” He says quietly. “But I don’t, like, know if I’m… If I wanna talk to her yet.” 

Larry nods, understanding. “It’s up to the two of you to decide when or if you want to see your mother. And either way, I’m here okay? I’m here to support you whatever you decide.”

Connor and Zoe both look down at their plates. They don’t agree, but they also don’t scream at each other during dinner. Connor eats almost two whole slices of pizza. 

It’s not perfect. It’s not fixed. 

But it’s a start.

* * *

It’s been a long time since Evan’s been to Temple. 

A really long time. 

He feels strange and out of place, but only in the way that he always feels strange and out of place. No more out of place than usual. 

And a part of him feels, weirdly, like he’s at home. Or he could be at home. 

He doesn’t know how to explain that to Heidi, so he doesn’t. 

Heidi’s kind of quiet on the way to and from Temple. She seems sad and tired and Evan wants to ask if she’s okay, but he’s too afraid to do it. 

If she’s not okay, he doesn’t know how to help. 

He never knows how to help. 

He hasn’t worn a kippah since he was a kid, but he has one. It’s one of the only things he has from his mom, and even though it’s old, he’s kept it as safe as he could since his mom died. She kept it in a bag with some of those packets of silica gel beads so it wouldn’t get damp, wouldn’t grow mold, and it seems to have worked because it’s in pretty good condition. 

The bag had other things in it, too, things he’s been keeping safe since he was 7 because he knew that they were special. He doesn’t know what everything in it is. He always meant to bring the bag with him to the Jewish community center back in Chino and ask what everything was for, but he’d been too embarrassed. 

Now that he’s actually got access to a computer to use for research and a school library that has actual books in it, maybe he can find out more. 

The rabbi lights the menorah and recites the Shehecheyanu blessing and Evan tries really hard to remember all the words. It comes back pretty easily, all things considered. He has a good memory. 

Sometimes that’s a good thing. 

On the way home from Temple, Heidi stops to pick up doughnuts. “David always liked this part,” she says fondly. “The doughnuts.” She looks a little apologetic. “I never got the hang of making latkes, but I can buy doughnuts.”

“I’ve always wanted to learn,” Evan says, a little hesitantly, thinking about the other thing in his bag from his mom. “How to make latkes. I, uh… I have a recipe?”

Heidi looks at him, her expression curious. “Yeah?”

Evan nods. Feels his cheeks color. “Yeah.” Heidi smiles, and Evan, feeling a little more encouraged, continues. “A-actually I have this bag full of stuff from my mom and it’s all Jewish and I d-don’t know what it is so maybe you can help?”

Heidi’s whole face softens. “Of course, sweetheart.”

Evan’s chest tightens a little, every time Heidi calls him something affectionate like that. Part of him loves it, loves it so much, it makes him feel cared for and safe and it’s everything he’s ever wanted. 

Another part just feels like… it’s too good to be true. 

When they get home, they light the menorah. Evan goes to his room, grabs his bag from his mom and brings it downstairs. Heidi smiles at him warmly and he opens it up, taking the objects out one by one and placing them on the table. 

“This used to be by the front door?” Evan says, gesturing to a small box. “My neighbor helped me take it down when Mom died, and she put it in the bag with the other stuff I knew was important.”

“It’s a mezuzah,” Heidi says, picking it up and smiling. “It has verses from the Torah in it. The reason we have these is because of a verse in Deuteronomy? ‘Write the words of God on the gates and doorposts of your house’.” She gestures to the symbol on the front. “See this? It’s the letter Shin, for Shaddai.”

“God,” Evan supplies, because he knows that one. 

Heidi grins at him. “Yeah.” She puts it down, then gestures to the little book of prayers. “This is a siddur, it’s a book of prayers. My Hebrew isn’t great, unfortunately.”

“I don’t speak any, really,” Evan says, feeling embarrassed. 

“We could learn together?” Heidi suggests, and Evan nods, this warm feeling settling in his stomach. 

“I don’t know what this cloth is for,” Evan admits, pointing at this round piece of fabric, decorated with Hebrew.

“That’s a matzah cover,” Heidi says immediately, picking it up. “It’s nice.” She looks at Evan and smiles. “We can use it at Passover if you like.”

“That sounds awesome,” says Evan, smiling now. He passes Heidi a small piece of card. “This is the latke recipe. I think my mom said it was from her mom? It’s… kind of faded, but I can still make it out, kind of.”

“We can make a copy,” Heidi suggests. “So we can use it, but keep the original safe.” Her whole face goes soft. “Thank you for sharing this with me, Evan.”

Evan shrugs, feeling his face burn even hotter. “Thanks for explaining? I know it’s really bad that I don’t know this stuff already.”

“It’s not,” Heidi says immediately. “We all have to start somewhere.” She looks at the mezuzah for a long time, then back at Evan. She’s frowning a little now. “Evan, can I talk to you about something?”

Evan feels all the warmth from moments ago freeze over. “S-sure.”

“Your English teacher called,” she says gently. “About a writers’ workshop in Washington D.C.”

Evan swallows. “I know it’s a lot to ask,” he says immediately. “And I’ve asked for so much lately, I didn’t want to-”

“Sweetheart, you can ask me for things,” Heidi interrupts firmly. “Especially things like this. This is a great opportunity, of course you should take it.” She bites her lip. “Mr. Stevens asked if I’d chaperone, and I said yes.”

Evan feels a little less cold. “You did?”

Heidi nods. Smiles. “I love D.C.,” she says. “I went to college there. It’s a great city. I thought we could stay the weekend as well, and have some time to see the sights. The Smithsonian is amazing. I used to go there all the time.” 

Evan swallows. “You’re sure about this?” he says cautiously. “I just… I know that you’re busy at work and you’re sacrificing a lot t-to look after me and I d-don’t want to keep asking for things, it’s not fair.”

Heidi shakes her head. “I want to look after you,” she says immediately. “You’re my kid, of course I’m going to look after you.”

Evan feels a little like he’s falling. 

Like he’s in freefall. 

_ You’re my kid.  _

_ You’re my kid. _

Heidi just… called him her kid. 

Casually, like it’s no big deal. 

Like it’s something that she wants. 

“Okay,” says Evan, feeling like it’s a total inadequate response, but he has to say something. 

Heidi grins at him. Her face is all soft and open. “This is a great opportunity for you, honey,” she says. “I’m excited that I get to be a part of it. And I haven't been to D.C. in years! It’s going to be really fun.”

Evan nods. Smiles. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

Heidi looks at the table, then picks up the mezuzah. Holds it reverently, looks at it intently. “How about we put this up outside?” she suggests. “I haven’t had one up in a house I’ve lived in since before I married David.”

Evan frowns a little. “Did he not want you to?”

Heidi’s cheeks color. “No, he was fine with it,” she says, sounding embarrassed. “I just… I already knew I didn’t fit in here. I didn’t want to make a big thing of it?” She shakes her head a little. Looks at Evan, her chin held high. “But we should put this up. We’re proud of who we are, right?”

“Yeah,” says Evan, nodding immediately. Even if he doesn’t know if he’s really proud of who he is, it’s got nothing to do with being Jewish. 

He and Heidi spend a bit of time getting the mezuzah attached to the doorframe. It takes a bit of time, but once it’s there, Evan feels a lump in his throat. 

It’s…

Fuck, he’s being weird about this, but he kind of wants to cry a little. 

Heidi puts an arm around his shoulder and pulls him into a half-hug. “Thank you,” she says quietly. “It’s nice to have a mezuzah here.”

“Yeah,” Evan agrees. 

It really is. 

Before he goes to bed that night, he puts his little bag back into his backpack, which he keeps at the bottom of the closet, just out of a sight. He’s got a dresser and drawers and all sorts of things to keep his shit, but the backpack is full of things he might need if everything goes to hell. 

Socks. Underwear. A bus timetable. Warm clothes. 

A thick wad of cash from the allowance Heidi’s been giving him since she officially became his guardian. 

He feels weird about that, stashing all the cash. She’s been generous as hell. Way too generous. She’ll give him like $50 a week, sometimes more randomly. Keeps saying he should be able to go hang out with people and do normal teenage stuff. 

Sometimes he does. Sometimes he’ll go out and eat with Connor. But he’s always frugal, always picks the cheapest things, so he can save as much money as he can. 

Just in case. 

In case Heidi changes her mind and kicks him out. 

It’s an insurance policy, he keeps telling himself. He’s hoping for the best, but he’s preparing for the worst. 

For the inevitable. 

_ No one wants you around for long, _ the voice in his head reminds him.  _ Don’t be a fucking idiot. Stay alert and be ready to go when the time comes.  _

He’s not naive enough to think that the time will never come. 

He just hopes it’s not for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Yule Shoot Your Eye Out" by Fall Out Boy.


	26. Merry Christmas, I Could Care Less

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmastime in Newport Beach.

Sabrina is already over Christmas. Her dad’s parents are coming to visit, which is going to be… complicated.

Sabrina actually really likes her grandparents, especially her dad’s dad, who she calls Daada, because that’s what you call your paternal grandfather in Hindi. Her mom’s always weird about that. Gets weird whenever Sabrina tries to speak a little bit of Hindi. 

Her grandmother is American, and her Hindi is pretty good. 

They seem to be nailing this whole interracial marriage thing, her grandparents. Her dad grew up in the US and they’ve always lived here but Grandma legitimately makes an effort to connect with Daada’s culture, which Sabrina thinks is really cool. 

Her dad… kind of doesn’t care. 

Well, no, that’s not strictly true. When his parents are around, he tries. Lets them call him Aahan, his actual name, rather than Aaron, the name he goes by because people around here are white and kinda racist. 

When his parents visit, her dad will cook with them and the whole house will smell amazing. There’ll be pani puri and pakora and samosas and dosas and all sorts of amazing Indian street food. 

Sabrina’s mom will refuse to eat any of it. 

Make a stupid fuss over the whole damn thing. 

Last year, she told Sabrina not to eat any of it, too. Daada looked so sad, and Grandma basically chewed her mom out about depriving Sabrina of a connection with her culture. 

“I know they worship cows in India,” Sabrina’s mom had said acidly, “but that doesn’t mean you need to turn my daughter into one. She’s fat enough already as it is.”

That still stings. 

In the end, Grandma and Daada had put their foot down. Her dad had gone along with it, telling her mom that it was Christmas, that they don’t eat like this any other time, that she should cut Sabrina a break. 

Her mom sulked the whole visit, then locked the pantry and the fridge the minute her dad’s parents went home so Sabrina couldn’t get any fatter. 

So Sabrina’s not exactly looking forward to her grandparents visiting. Not because she doesn’t love them, because she does, but because her mom is going to fucking lose it once they leave. 

Who knows what she’ll do this year to try to keep Sabrina thin. 

Fuck. 

It’s so fucked up, and she tries her hardest to not let it get to her, but…

Fuck. 

Sabrina keeps thinking about Connor, weirdly. About how thin he’d looked at cotillion. He’s usually in baggy shirts and hoodies and jackets and stuff, so it was never really obvious until he was in a properly tailored suit. 

Part of her wonders how he does it. Stays so thin. 

The other part is… concerned. Because she knows that it’s dangerous to be as thin as Connor is. 

If Connor were a girl, everyone would be envious of him. Be asking him for tips or whatever. 

That’s… 

So fucked up. 

Alana’s right about beauty standards being fucked up and impossible and harmful. 

Alana’s right about a lot of things. 

It’s… nice, having Alana back in her life. Kind of. They talk a lot more. Catch up. Text a bit. Alana says hi to her in the halls and Sabrina says hi back. 

It’s not like they’re best friends again or anything. 

Zoe doesn’t like it, Sabrina can tell. 

Sabrina thinks that Zoe just… doesn’t like sharing. 

She certainly doesn’t seem to like sharing Evan with Connor. 

“I need to get Evan a Christmas present,” Zoe announces when they’re hanging out at the mall one afternoon. “What should I get him?”

“I barely know the guy,” Sabrina replies immediately, her heart clenching painfully. 

Zoe pouts. “Come on, Sabrina. I’m completely stuck, help me out.”

Sabrina feels her cheeks color. She feels hot and weird all over. “I’m not helping you pick out a present for your boyfriend, Zoe.” 

It comes out harsher than she means it to. 

Zoe flinches, like Sabrina’s slapped her. 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” she replies, frowning. “Don’t be a bitch.”

Sabrina sighs. Crosses her arms. “I don’t know him,” she says firmly. “And I don’t want to be involved in whatever it is that’s going on with you guys. Not when we’re…”

She trails off. 

She’s not going to say it out loud. 

They don’t talk about whatever it is that they’re doing, especially not in public. 

Zoe looks at her, face pale, her mouth set in a hard line. 

“It’s not like you’d be any help anyway,” she mutters. “You’ve never had a boyfriend.”

“Neither have you,” Sabrina feels compelled to point out. “You just, like, hook up with guys or whatever.”

“You let the pool boy finger you at that resort,” Zoe says, sounding irritated. “I’ve never done that.”

_ No, _ says a voice in Sabrina’s head, equally irritated.  _ But you did make me come three times the other night so maybe stop being such a judgmental bitch.  _

“I’m not going to help you pick out a gift for Evan,” Sabrina says firmly. “You can do that yourself.” She pauses. Regrets what she says next immediately. “If you really need help, ask your brother. He’s his best friend.”

Zoe glares at her. 

Genuinely glares at her, like she’s considering hitting her in the face. 

“You know what,” Sabrina says, feeling stupidly like she’s going to cry. “I have to go grab something for my Daada. I’ll meet you at the food court in like twenty minutes?”

Zoe crosses her arms. “Fine,” she says, her voice clipped and annoyed. 

Sabrina heads to the bathroom and locks herself in a stall. 

Her eyes are stinging and she’s… so fucking pissed off about it. 

She doesn’t want to hear about Zoe’s stupid thing for Evan. Doesn’t want to hear about how he kissed her and didn’t really know what he was doing. And she definitely doesn’t want to help Zoe find him a fucking Christmas present. 

Christmas is going to suck enough. She doesn’t need this, too. 

Sabrina lets herself cry quietly for a total of five minutes, then washes her face with cold water and does her hair. Puts on some lip gloss and heads back out into the mall. 

When she meets up with Zoe, Zoe’s got a bright smile on her face and is acting like nothing’s wrong, like nothing happened. 

She doesn’t mention Evan’s present again.

* * *

Evan’s never really gone Christmas shopping before. It’s never been something on his radar at all. He’s never had people to buy presents for. But when Heidi tells him they’ll be spending Christmas afternoon with the Murphys, Evan realizes with a sinking sensation that if he doesn’t show up with a gift for Zoe, she’s not going to be pleased. 

Even if they haven’t really talked since cotillion. Not in any meaningful way, at least. At school, Zoe’s always with Sabrina. They’re basically glued to each other these days. Plus, Evan’s been trying to keep an eye out for Connor, walking him to classes, so they haven’t exactly had time to catch up. 

They talk a little in study hall, but not much. 

Zoe smiles at him more now, Evan thinks. 

It’s like she’s waiting for him to make a move. 

A move he’s not sure if he’s brave enough to make. 

He keeps thinking back to how Zoe kissed him. How she deepened the kiss immediately, how her lips were soft and warm and she knew what she was doing. 

And Evan didn’t. 

He just… 

Fuck, he made a total idiot of himself. 

Evan’s just…

He’s never kissed anyone before. People haven’t really… touched him much, growing up. 

His mom was super affectionate, all hugs and kisses, but in foster care, that wasn’t something that happened. He spent a lot of time in group homes, where there wasn’t much physical contact at all, and most of the foster families he was in kind of just… kept him there. Kept their distance. 

He did have one foster family with a mom and a dad who gave him hugs, who kissed him goodnight. It was the first foster family he ever had and he remembered feeling overwhelmed at first, but then strangely safe. 

He remembers thinking that everything was going to be okay. 

It lasted three months. Evan remembers the mom crying when he left. He’d cried, too. 

So stupid, looking back on it. 

He knows now that things aren’t permanent. That you can’t rely on people letting you stick around forever. 

Which is why he can’t get his hopes up with Heidi. Even if she calls him her kid. 

He just has to keep doing his best. And that means not fucking up Christmas. 

Evan texts Connor. Asks if there’s any way he can get a ride to the mall so he can do some Christmas shopping. 

Connor tells him he’ll be at the bottom of the driveway in ten minutes. 

Connor is quiet on the drive to the mall. He plugs in his iPod and puts on Linkin Park and doesn’t really talk to him. Evan thinks he catches him glancing at him every now and then but when he goes to look, Connor’s watching the road. 

The mall is packed. 

Completely full of people. 

This was a bad idea. 

A really fucking bad idea. 

Connor looks at him and frowns a little. “It’s like three days before Christmas,” he says bluntly. “What did you expect?” 

Evan doesn’t say anything. Just squares his shoulders and heads to the store he needs to get Heidi’s present. Connor leaves him to it, wandering around while Evan shops. Picking up things and looking at them thoughtfully, like he’s doing some shopping of his own. 

Once he’s got Heidi’s present, he moves to his next destination. There’s a place that does engraving and he hands over Heidi’s present with the inscription he wants, carefully written out on a piece of paper. 

Connor looks over his shoulder. Evan feels like he should hide it, but he doesn’t. 

Then Connor looks at him, this unreadable expression on his face. 

“That’s Heidi and David’s wedding anniversary,” he says quietly.

Evan feels his cheeks turn pink. Nods. “Yeah,” he says, swallowing hard. “I, uh… it took me a really long time to figure out what to get Heidi? I… I thought about it a lot. I d-didn’t…” He shrugs. “Nothing I give her is ever going to be enough, but I wanted it to be…” Connor’s still staring at him. “It’s probably stupid, what am I doing, I-”

“I think it’s perfect,” says Connor immediately. “I think it’ll mean a lot to her.”

“It’s not fair she lost her husband,” Evan replies, a little helplessly. He looks at Connor. “And that you lost your godfather. It’s not… it’s not fair.”

He’s been thinking about it a lot recently. 

How unfair it is. 

Heidi Herzberg is the most amazing person Evan’s ever met, and it’s not fair that her husband died. David wasn’t even that old, Evan figures, if he went to law school with Mr. Murphy. If he was Mrs. Murphy’s high school boyfriend or whatever. 

He wasn’t that old, and he just… died. 

Heidi didn’t even see it coming. 

Evan knows what it’s like, not to see it coming. 

“It isn’t,” says Connor. He tucks his hair behind his ear. Looks at the guy at the counter. “How long will the engraving be?”

“Come back in an hour,” he replies. “Should be done by then. I’ve got a couple to get through first.”

“Cool,” says Connor. They head off. “Where to next?”

Evan hesitates. “Give me, like, twenty minutes? To go somewhere by myself?”

Connor blinks. “What? Why?”

Evan looks at him. “To get your present, idiot.”

Connor’s face softens. “You’re getting me a present?”

“Of course I am,” Evan replies, because that’s a stupid fucking question. “Wanna meet at the food court or something? There’s that place that does the freshly squeezed juice?”

Connor frowns, then shrugs. “Sure. Okay.” He smiles, this real smile. “Have fun buying my present.”

Evan laughs. “I will.”

He heads off and finds Connor’s present immediately. He knows exactly what he’s getting Connor. It takes barely five minutes to select and purchase, leaving him with fifteen minutes to find something for Zoe. 

Somehow, he thinks that Connor’s not going to appreciate it if Evan is looking for a present for Connor’s sister while he’s there, so he’s got to do this fast. 

Got to find something that’s going to work. Something she’ll like. 

Something that isn’t, like, sending the wrong message. 

Not that he even knows what message he’s trying to send here. 

He likes Zoe. He knows he likes Zoe. 

But he’s terrified. 

Evan’s fucking terrified.

Zoe’s younger than him, but she’s clearly more experienced than he is. She knew what she was doing when she kissed him, and she’d expect him to know what he was doing if they wanted to go any further. 

Further than kissing. 

Connor  _ definitely  _ went further than kissing with Reg. Evan’s not stupid, he knows what happened. He’s not, like, thrilled about it, but that’s just because he doesn’t want Connor to get hurt and Reg is miles away at fucking  _ Harvard  _ and…

Evan doesn’t know how to do this. Everyone seems to have gone way past kissing around here, and Evan’s stuck playing catch up. Badly. 

Fuck. 

Evan can’t…

It’s like he’s  _ broken  _ or something. Like the part of him that’s supposed to be a normal fucking teenager is busted, because the idea of sex completely terrifies him. 

The idea of being vulnerable with someone like that. Laid bare for them to see. 

The idea of someone touching him…

It’s just… he can’t figure it why it freaks him out so much. He’s, like, jerked off before. He’s definitely thought about sex, about touching someone, kissing someone. 

But someone touching  _ him? _

Someone seeing him vulnerable just… 

He can’t. 

He can’t do it. 

He’s still getting used to people  _ hugging  _ him, for fuck’s sake. Still getting used to people who want to touch him, not because they want to cause him pain. 

That’s so fucked up. 

He’s so fucked up. 

He wanders around the stores, trying to find something for Zoe.  _ Something _ . Fuck. 

He can’t do this. 

He can’t do this. Evan is not the kind of person who can make Zoe happy. 

Evan’s not enough for Zoe and he never will be. 

He’ll never be able to give her what she wants. What she expects. 

What she expects from the person she thinks he is. 

Evan is a liar and a fake and a fraud and a coward, because he likes Zoe, likes her a lot, but the idea of coming clean to her is just… 

Unacceptable. 

She can’t know who he is. 

She can’t she can’t she can’t. 

It’s nearly been twenty minutes. 

He should be meeting Connor, he can’t leave Connor waiting while he tries to figure out what to get for Connor’s sister, fucking hell, he’s such a disaster. 

_ Just pick something, idiot, _ the voice in his head sneers.  _ Whatever you pick will be wrong anyway, just get it over with and pick something.  _

He can’t breathe right. 

He can’t do this. 

Evan picks up something off the shelf and goes to buy it, not even registering what it is he’s doing. What it is. He pays, then puts it in the shopping bag next to Connor’s present and leaves the store immediately. 

It’s been twenty minutes. 

He’s supposed to meet Connor, he…

He can’t do this. He can’t fucking do this, he can’t he can’t he can’t-

Evan’s hands are shaking. He has to get out of here before people see he can’t let them see. 

There’s an emergency exit. 

He walks toward it and slips through, finding himself outside, in what’s probably an employee only area but he doesn’t fucking care, he…

He sinks to the ground. 

Puts his head on his knees. 

Tries to breathe. 

Tries his hardest to breathe. 

“Hey,” comes a soft voice. “Okay, let’s do this. Breathing in for four. One… two… three… four… there we go, that’s good. Okay, now breathing out for six. One… two… three… four… five… six… awesome, you’re doing great. We’re going to try again, okay? With me, come on.”

It takes a long time to come back to reality. 

A longer time to realize that it’s Connor. That Connor’s here with him. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

He opens his eyes and looks at Connor, whose eyes are wide and concerned. “You okay?” he asks immediately. “What’s going on?”

“I’m gonna fuck this up.”

Connor frowns. “Fuck what up?”

Evan looks at the bag next to him. Pulls out whatever the hell it is he picked out for Zoe. Connor looks very confused. 

“A Koosh ball?”

“I c-can’t do this,” Evan says, shaking his head. “I c-can’t… I can’t talk to you about this, fuck fuck fuck I can’t-”

His chest is too tight too tight he can’t breathe he can’t breathe he can’t talk to Connor about this this isn’t Connor’s problem why is he here why is he here he fucks up everything he’s fucked it up he’s fucked it all up-

Connor is holding his hand tightly. 

Sitting next to him, his arm wrapped around him tightly. 

Slowly, slowlyslowlyslowly, Evan starts to breathe again. 

Connor leans his head on top of Evan’s briefly, then turns to look at him. “You’re okay,” he says quietly. “Can we just… look, you don’t have to get me a present if it’s freaking you out-”

“I have your present,” Evan interrupts. “That was easy, I know you, I know you won’t…”

He can’t finish. 

Connor’s expression shifts. For a moment, he looks… devastated. 

“You’re freaking out because you can’t figure out what to get my sister for Christmas.”

Evan hunches in on himself. Tries to make himself disappear. 

“I’m n-not who she thinks I am,” Evan says desperately. “If… if she r-really knew me, she’d-”

“She’d think you’re every bit as amazing as I do,” Connor interrupts, something fierce in his voice. “And if she doesn’t, then she doesn’t deserve you.”

“I can’t talk about this with you,” Evan says miserably. 

Connor flinches. 

Pulls away. 

Evan sighs. Folds in on himself more. “I just… y-you’re my b-best friend and she’s your s-sister and I know you d-don’t…” He hunches his shoulders. Tries to take up as little space as he can. “You don’t like it.”

Connor looks at him, his expression unreadable. 

Evan wishes desperately that he knew what his friend was thinking. 

“I don’t like it, no,” he says slowly. “But I  _ really  _ fucking don’t like that you’re so worked up about it it’s giving you multiple panic attacks.” He bites his lip. Takes the Koosh ball off Evan. Throws it up in the air and catches it. “This is a fucking weird gift idea, dude.”

Evan lets out a shaky sigh. “I just p-picked up the first thing I saw,” he says honestly. “I was r-running out of t-time.”

Connor frowns. Blinks. “We still have time,” he says, a little begrudgingly. “There’s, like, half an hour until your gift for Heidi is ready, so… we have time.”

Evan shakes his head. “You don’t have to-”

“You’re not giving my sister a Koosh ball for Christmas,” Connor says firmly. He looks thoughtful. “If you’re going to get her, like, some kind of throwback toy, get her a Beanie Baby.”

Evan blinks. “She likes them?”

Connor shrugs. “She did when she was a kid. Who knows? It might be, like, retro or whatever.”

“It’s h-hard to figure out what to g-get someone whose parents are, like, actual millionaires,” Evan mutters, trying to keep his heart rate even. Keep his breathing from getting out of control again.

Connor winces a little. Tries to smile. “Hey, you figured out something for me.”

“That’s different,” Evan tries to explain. “I  _ know  _ you.”

Connor stares at him. His eyes go big. 

For a moment, Evan thinks he’s going to say something. Ask something. Demand an explanation. An explanation Evan doesn’t know he has. 

But he doesn’t. 

He nudges Evan with his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get this shopping over and done with, yeah?”

* * *

“The thing about shopping for Zoe,” Connor says, leading Evan through the mall, “is that everything is a trap. You can’t get some of the shit she likes because then you’re an asshole. Last year for Christmas my mom said she was really into make up, so I got her this nice like. Eyeshadow thing? I dunno the lady at the store said she’d like it. Turns out if you give a girl makeup, apparently you’re _actually_ telling her that she’s ugly.” Connor rolls his eyes. 

Evan nods miserably. Connor realizes his friend has probably already worked that out for himself. “What did you get her this year?”

“A fucking gift card,” Connor says. “But that’s because I suck and I am  _ not  _ thoughtful.”

Evan nods. “I don’t even - wh-what does she even like?”

Connor shrugs again. “Fuck if I know dude. She likes  _ you.  _ Maybe you can just tie a ribbon around your junk.” 

The joke falls spectacularly flat. Evan’s face goes pale. 

Connor’s  _ not  _ trying to be a dick. He’s really not. He’s trying to force himself to be okay about this. 

“Shit okay…” Connor mutters. “If this was two years ago I’d tell you to get her some guitar shit but…”

Evan looks confused. “Zoe… plays guitar?”

“Yeah but I wouldn’t mention that you know,” Connor says flatly. “Apparently guitars are not cool anymore.”

“I h-have no idea what’s c-c-cool.”

Definitely not a fucking Koosh ball, but Connor decides they both already know this so he doesn’t mention it. 

What the fuck  _ does  _ Zoe like? 

Drinking. 

Ignoring Connor. 

Wearing too much makeup. 

Clothes, but Connor couldn’t even hazard a guess about her sizes. Seems like a landmine. 

She seems to still like pizza but that’s not a gift. He hasn’t seen her read anything in years. Her taste in music sucks now, and she already has an iPod. 

What the fuck is girl shit? 

Earrings. She wears those. 

But Evan frowns. “I g-got her jewelry for her birthday. Sh-she’s never worn it.”

Okay so that’s out. Connor lets out a somewhat frustrated groan. Why is his sister… who she is? 

“Uh. Did the two of you get any pictures together at cotillion?”

Evan shrugs. “None that I have.”

Well shit there goes that idea. 

Why are girls so damn complicated? And when did his sister become one of those girls? 

“Could you just give her whatever you got me?”

Evan shakes his head aggressively. “No. D-Definitely not.”

Connor wants to know what the gift is. He’s kind of stuck on what to get Evan, honestly. He wishes he had a hint. 

While Evan was off hyperventilating, Connor had picked out a couple of books for him and a CD with “Killing Me Softly” on it, but now he’s starting to wonder if that was stupid. 

Connor’s stupid. 

His mom is good at this shit. If things were normal, Connor might call her. 

But they are not normal and he cannot call her. 

“You could… make her something?” Connor suggests stupidly. 

Evan glares at him. “Y-yeah, here Zoe, I m-made you some f-fucking macaroni art.”

Connor thinks that if Evan made  _ him  _ macaroni art he would think it was hilarious. 

Ugh. 

“Hang on, okay, this might be something,” Connor says, stopping short at one of those dumb mall art kiosks. There’s all of these collage frames with photos of stuff that look like letters; they spell out different things. Like “home” and “love” and shit. 

“Hey,” he says to the guy working the kiosk. He’s a kid who looks bored out of his mind. He eyes Connor and Evan warily. “Can you do, like, requests?”

The kid nods. “Yeah we got all 26 letters in a couple of colors and whatever. But we’ve only got frames for words that are three letters or more.”

He nudges Evan. “She won’t like. Already have this?” Connor thinks it’s sort of perfect. Generic enough that she can’t be offended, personalized enough that Zoe can’t get pissed about getting a generic present. And better than a fucking Koosh ball. 

Connor actually used to really like those. 

Evan gives him a relieved smile. He and the sales guy go through and pick out the photos to spell out Zoe’s name and then Evan agonizes over a frame color for a good ten minutes. Finally Connor takes pity on the poor man and tells him Zoe’s favorite color is blue because Jesus Evan still needs to pick Heidi’s gift up today. 

Evan pays the man and sticks the newly assembled gift into a bag. 

“Do you know a-anything about wrapping stuff?” Evan asks him. 

Connor frowns. “Do I look like someone who knows anything about wrapping stuff?”

“N-no? Y-yes? I-I-I have no idea.”

Connor gives him a hard look. “Are you only asking me because I’m gay? And all gay guys are good at that kinda shit?”

“A-are they?” Evan says, sounding alarmed. “I don’t. I don’t-”

Connor sighs. “Relax. My mom didn’t have a craft room for nothing growing up. I’ve got you covered. I just… I was just giving you a hard time.”

Evan nods. He looks kind of deflated. 

Connor hates it. Fuck he’s a prick. “You wanna go through Starbucks on the way home?”

Evan perks up a little at that. “Okay.”

* * *

Heidi has mixed feelings about Christmas. 

Growing up, her family’s attitude to Christmas kind of fluctuated. Some years they’d celebrate it as a secular holiday, other years it was Chinese food and movies all the way, ignoring all things goy. 

Now that her parents have passed, she and her brother have gone their separate ways when it comes to holidays. Keith’s wife Claudia is some vague flavor of Christian, Heidi can't remember, and they’re not raising Aaron with any kind of real religious leanings. But Christmas is a thing for them. 

Heidi’s already sent money to Aaron for Christmas. It’s what she’s done every year since he turned ten and started complaining that she and David gave lame presents. 

Aaron’s such a little shit sometimes. It wasn’t like the presents were that bad, and David always hid money in his gifts. He liked hiding money in presents, for some reason. Heidi remembers Zoe nearly destroying a Beanie Baby looking for the cash and David just grinning like an idiot. 

Fuck, she misses David. 

Last year Heidi had just sat at home on Christmas Day. Drunk a lot of scotch and watched _Jurassic Park_ on repeat because it was David’s favorite movie. 

Cried a lot. 

A whole lot. 

This year she’s not doing that. 

Evan’s a little wary about Christmas, she can tell. Keeps saying that it was never a big deal to his dad and he and Heidi are Jewish anyway so they don’t have to do anything. 

And yeah, maybe that’s the case, but it doesn’t mean that she’s just going to ignore it completely. 

She wants Evan to have a good time this holiday. Wants it to be something to remember. 

She keeps thinking back to her discussion with Larry. 

How David would already have adoption papers. 

Heidi loves her husband. Will always love her husband. But she has a feeling that if David had tried to broach the idea of adoption this early, Evan would have run for the hills. 

Gotten spooked and just… bolted. 

David has a tendency to bulldoze things a little bit. 

Had. 

_ Had  _ a tendency to bulldoze things. 

Fuck, she misses him. 

They’re not ready for adoption yet, Heidi thinks, but they’ll get there. She just has to keep proving she’s trustworthy, proving she’s in this for the long haul. 

Slow and steady, building trust. 

It’s all she can do. 

It’s decided that Evan and Heidi will head to the Murphys on Christmas Day in the afternoon, but that they’ll have some time to themselves in the morning. On Christmas Eve, she and Evan head to the beach house to spend the night there. 

They end up sitting on the beach drinking hot chocolate until almost midnight, just talking and watching the waves. 

Evan seems to be at peace here at the beach house. Always seems less stressed, less tense. Less like the weight of the world is on his shoulders. 

Heidi likes it. Likes it a lot. 

He’s too young to carry so much. 

The McMansion is too big for the two of them, Heidi notes idly. If they had internet installed out here, they could probably move into the beach house permanently. 

David would have hated the idea, Heidi thinks. 

But David’s not here anymore.

She could, if she wanted to, just… let the big McMansion go. Get rid of some of the trappings of high society. 

A part of her isn’t sure if she’s ready to let go yet. 

The other part thinks she’s been holding on for far too long. 

“I love it out here,” says Evan quietly, his voice soft and warm. “I really, really love it.”

“Yeah,” says Heidi gently. “Me too.”

The next morning when Heidi wakes up, Evan’s already up. There’s coffee and he’s making an omelette. 

“What’s all this?” she asks, a little taken aback. 

“Breakfast,” he says, his cheeks coloring a little. “I, uh… I wanted to do something nice.”

“It looks amazing,” she says honestly. 

Turns out that it tastes even better. It’s light and fluffy and full of vegetables and absolutely delicious. When she tells Evan this, he blushes a little and shrugs. 

“It’s got spinach in it,” he says, his voice quiet. “That has, like, tons of vitamins? Vitamin A, vitamin C, vitamin K… also vitamin B6, B9 and E.” He shrugs. “And iron and potassium and magnesium. It’s good for you.”

“I like spinach,” Heidi declares. 

Evan smiles. “Me too.” 

When they finish eating, Heidi heads into her room to get Evan’s presents. She’s tried really hard not to go overboard, not to freak him out, but she also wants him to remember this as their first holidays together. 

Hopefully, the first of many. 

She gets back to the living room to find that Evan’s holding a small box, his cheeks pink. He hands it to her immediately. “This is for you,” he says.

She takes it, then hands him the box she’s carrying. “And this is for you,” she replies with a smile. 

Evan smiles at her tentatively, and the two of them sit down and open their presents. Heidi opens the box to see another box inside. She opens it up to see there’s a pen inside it. It’s navy blue with gold edges. She picks it up and turns it over to see there’s an engraving on it. It’s subtle and small but it stops her in her tracks. 

She can’t help it. Her eyes start stinging. 

_ 12.23.89 _

Evan’s looking at her, uncertain. He hasn’t opened his box yet. “I hope I got the date right?” he says, his voice tentative. 

“My wedding anniversary,” she says, blinking away tears. “Mine and David’s wedding anniversary.” She looks at Evan and smiles. “Thank you, honey, this is… incredibly thoughtful.”

“I thought you could take it to work,” Evan says, still a little hesitant, but he’s smiling softly. “So he’s always with you.”

Heidi nods. Wipes her face. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” She takes a deep breath, tries to collect herself. Nods to the box Evan’s still holding. “Open yours, okay?”

Evan looks like he wants to argue, but he doesn’t. He opens the box, then pulls things out, one by one. Heidi’s gone simple and practical. A couple of shirts. A new pair of jeans. A couple of books that came recommended at the bookstore. At the bottom, there’s a small envelope, which Evan picks up and opens. 

He takes out a small piece of card and reads it. Frowns a little, then his eyes widen. 

“Driving lessons?” he asks softly, looking at her. He laughs a little. “Really?”

“Well, if you’re going to commit to a career of stealing cars, you need to know what you’re doing,” she jokes, and Evan laughs properly at that. 

“Guess it’s a good thing I know a great lawyer, huh?” he jokes back, his cheeks flushing pink. He looks young and happy and a little overwhelmed. 

“Seriously, though,” Heidi says with a smile. “If you could avoid getting arrested again, that would be appreciated.” Her joking tone fades, and she looks him dead in the eye. “I want to keep you. Okay? I want to keep you with me.”

Evan’s eyes go glassy. He ducks his head. Nods. 

He’s still smiling.

* * *

Christmas morning is fucking weird without her mom, Zoe thinks. 

Last year was a little weird because Connor spent most of the morning hidden away in his room on the phone with  _ someone  _ and had to be basically dragged downstairs for presents. 

This is weirder. 

Zoe hides in her bedroom until she literally cannot hold her pee anymore. She doesn’t want to go downstairs. See her brother and her dad and  _ not  _ her mom. 

They went to Midnight Mass last night. Which was weird. Something they haven’t done since Zoe was little. 

She worried as she walked into the church that lightning might strike her or something. Like God might know what she does when she and Sabrina are alone together and smite her. 

Connor headed inside first and didn't get smote though. Smited? Whatever. 

He went first and he’s actually gay so. Zoe decided it was safe and followed. 

It was weird to discover she still knows most of the prayers. 

Whatever. 

On Christmas morning, Zoe waits until she absolutely cannot hold her pee a second longer before she leaves her bedroom. She heads downstairs after taking her sweet time in the bathroom getting ready. 

Her dad and Connor are arguing. 

That used to be so normal, but now it’s weird. 

“You should consider going, Connor,” their dad says. 

“I don't want to.” Connor’s still in his pajamas. He looks like shit. 

“She’s your mother... You can’t just refuse to see her on Christmas.” Their dad sounds so defeated. "It would break her heart."

“Funny because that’s exactly what I’m doing,” Connor shouts back. “I’m not fucking going.”

The two of them quiet down the moment they spot Zoe. 

Her dad scrubs a hand over his face. “Hi sweetheart,” he says wearily. “Merry Christmas.”

Zoe doesn’t say it back. She looks right at Connor. “You _have_ to go see mom.”

“No,” Connor says, his voice shaking. “I don’t.” He gets up, probably to storm up the stairs and slam the door, but he doesn’t make it that far. 

Because he makes it three steps and collapses in the kitchen. His hair fans out behind him, his eyes close, and Zoe can see a little of his collar bone sticking out from the collar of his shirt. He looks horrible. Like a skeleton. 

Their dad totally freaks, even though Connor opens his eyes right away. He all but drags Connor to the sofa and sticks a banana in his hand. His words are trembly but firm as he tells her brother that he will “eat the whole damn thing” or he’ll be joining their mom at the treatment center. 

Connor obeys without a word. He takes forever to eat one measly banana, breaking it into small pieces and then chewing and chewing and chewing for a long time before he swallows. He won’t look at either Zoe or their dad. His face is pale and he looks embarrassed. 

Their dad shakes his head. “You’re going to see Dr. Pearson next week. I don’t want to hear any arguments.”

Connor blinks a few times. “Alright,” he relents. 

“And you’re going to see your mother,” their dad presses. "This has gone on long enough. You're going to talk to her."

“Alright, alright,  _ Jesus, _ ” Connor says. He’s holding the banana peel like it’s a live snake or something. 

After a little awkward standing around, their dad decides they should open their presents before they head to the rehab center. 

Because everyone is feeling  _ so  _ festive. 

Zoe gets a car. A bright red VW Bug. She should be excited and happy. She was pissed off when she didn’t get a car for her birthday. But suddenly the car doesn’t feel like something she wants. It feels hollow and empty when her dad tells her their mom picked out the color. 

So what. Her mom’s in fucking rehab. 

Who cares that this car in this color is exactly what Zoe wanted. 

She also gets some clothes and jewelry that her mom clearly had a hand in selecting. Some guitar picks that her dad clearly threw in at the last moment because the wrapping is not done to a Cynthia Murphy standard. 

Connor gives her a gift card to Hollister. It’s perfect because she got him a gift card to Hot Topic. 

Their parents have gotten Connor an expensive new stereo system for his car that’s compatible with his iPod. A new skateboard. Some clothes. A new pair of Chuck Taylors. 

Zoe feels a little weird that her gifts are definitely worth more than Connor’s. But he got a car on his birthday last year even though he wasn’t even home so. She doesn’t stress too much. 

Connor goes upstairs to change after he thanks their dad for the gifts. Zoe and her dad head outside to inspect her new car. He shows her how to adjust the mirrors and talks all about the airbags and kicks the tires and stuff. He’s in extreme TV dad mode, talking about gas mileage and safety features and whatever. 

“Where did you even hide this?” Zoe asks. 

“At work, in the garage. Your brother and I picked it up this morning.”

“He was in his pajamas!” Zoe says, annoyed. 

Her dad shrugs. “It was early.”

They go for a little ride around the neighborhood while Connor gets ready. 

Zoe’s surprised to find there’s already a CD in the player. A burned copy of Paramore’s  _ All We Know Is Falling.  _

She frowns a little at that. 

She wishes Connor would stop trying with her. It’s embarrassing. 

Part of her wishes her parents would just split up when her mom gets home. Divide up their stuff and Zoe can go live with their mom. Make things easier to separate. 

Connor comes down maybe thirty minutes later. She’s surprised that he’s in a nice navy blue sweater. He’s wearing his new Chucks. 

And eyeliner. Thick dark eyeliner. 

Their dad presses his lips into a straight line, but he doesn’t comment. 

They pile into Zoe’s new car and drive to the rehab center. It’s about thirty minutes away. Paramore plays on the car stereo. 

Connor sits in the back and stares at his phone. 

They all have to wear visitor passes pressed to their shirts. 

When their mom sees them, she sweeps Zoe into a very tight hug, telling her how much she’s missed her. She kisses their dad  _ on the mouth  _ which weirds Zoe out. 

Then she holds her arms out to Connor. 

He hugs her back limply. 

“Merry Christmas baby,” their mom says to Connor. 

“Merry Christmas,” he says back, his voice tight and thin. 

They all head into the family lounge where there are people all around. Their mom asks after their gifts, asks about mass, even asks after Evan which Zoe feels like is some kind of tactic. 

Connor sits there and picks at his flaking nail polish. He doesn’t say much. 

“I wanted to apologize to all of you,” their mom says after some time passes. “I am so sincerely sorry for my behavior at cotillion. I know how much I embarrassed you all… and I know now that I need to work harder to get a better handle on my issues.”

Zoe accepts the apology because she just wants shit to go back to normal. Maybe if she says it’s alright, then things can. 

They can go back to how things were before. 

Connor sits quietly and picks at his nails. 

“Baby,” their mom says softly to him. 

“What do you want me to say?” He says quietly. His voice is so cold it sends a shiver up Zoe’s spine. 

Their mom opens and closes her mouth. “I… that I have your forgiveness,” she says after a beat. 

“Well you don’t, so.” Connor stares at the table. Collects the flecks of his chipped nail polish. Holds them in his cupped hand. “You were… you haven’t been like…”

“I know sweetheart,” their mom says. “But I’m working to be better now.”

Connor gives her a tiny nod. “Well. Maybe once you  _ are _ .”

  
  


That afternoon, Heidi and Evan come over. They put on festive music and eat tons of junk. Lots of tiny appetizers and some latkes that Evan apparently made for Hanukkah.  Zoe feels like an idiot. He’s Heidi’s nephew. Of course Evan’s Jewish. She can’t believe she didn’t realize. 

“D-don’t worry about it,” Evan tells her with a smile. “We still… we still kinda do Christmas?”

That helps a bit. 

Their dad is watching Connor like a hawk so he makes a point of eating two whole latkes. He looks sort of sick to his stomach after but he does it and their dad keeps his mouth shut. 

Zoe takes Evan outside to show off her new car. He smiles and tells her that Heidi’s giving him driving lessons this semester. 

“You don’t drive yet?”

Evan shakes his head. “A-April birthday. I w-was going to take driver’s ed b-but then m-m-y parents were, y’know, g-going to Europe…”

Zoe nods. “That kind of sucks,” she says softly. 

He shrugs. 

They head back inside after a quick spin around the neighborhood. There’s a brief moment when they’re alone together where Zoe is certain Evan is  _ finally  _ going to ask her out. 

Or at least kiss her again. 

He doesn’t. He just smiles awkwardly and says his present for her is inside. 

Zoe can hardly hide her disappointment. 

Whatever. 

Inside, everyone exchanges gifts. Evan smiles politely at the shirt Zoe picked out for him at the mall, thanks her kindly. She genuinely likes the art spelling out her name that Evan gives her. It’s cute but not corny. 

But then Zoe sees the gifts Connor and Evan give to each other and finds herself feeling pissed. Connor gives Evan a couple of books (among them a copy of  _ Fight Club _ ) and then a CD with the song “Killing Me Softly” on it that Evan stares at for a long, long moment with glassy eyes before he thanks Connor softly and gives him a tight hug. Evan gives Connor a journal (with something apparently written on the fly leaf that makes Connor’s cheeks go red) and a copy of  _ Howl.  _ Zoe doesn’t know much about it other than it’s a long poem and it’s pretty gay. 

They get each other. Connor and Evan. They get each other in ways that Evan and Zoe just… don’t. There’s no mutual understanding or causal inside humor with Zoe and Evan. It’s all. 

Surface. 

Performance. 

Fake. 

Zoe thinks that. Whenever she’s with Evan, they’re both faking it. At least a little. 

But she meant what she said when she told him he was the most genuine person she knew. He seems to have less tolerance for the bullshit expectations everyone else around them has. 

She just. 

She wishes he would actually be  _ real  _ with her. So she could feel safe being real with him. 

But that’s not what they are to each other and it stings to know that Evan has that with Connor. 

Zoe realizes that Evan told her this, around their birthday, but she hadn’t believed him. 

Now she does and she hates it. 

Zoe packs up her gifts, thanks everyone as kindly as she can, and then heads up to her bedroom and cries for a really long time.

* * *

Christmas Day is a fucking nightmare. 

Passing out in the kitchen definitely qualifies as a top ten most mortifying moment of Connor's life. Having his dad and sister watch him choke down a banana is absolutely worse though. 

Like a million times worse. 

He hasn’t been good about the food shit lately. Too much else going on. 

Seeing his mom is exhausting. And sure he wears eyeliner specifically to piss her off but something about the whole interaction leaves him feeling scooped out and hollow and exhausted. She called him “baby.”

She hasn’t called him that since this summer. Back when the drinking mostly made her sleepy and a little bit weepy sometimes.  Back when she’d knock on his door late at night and beg him to talk to her. “Connor, baby, I never know what you’re thinking anymore.”

He’d normally shrug. He couldn’t tell her what he was thinking. That he’d lost the most important person in his life and he didn’t know why. That he didn’t want to be back home. That it was weird without Heidi and David around but nobody was talking about it. 

“I want you to  _ talk  _ to me, sweetheart,” she would plead with him. 

He’d never say much. He’d normally just sit there next to her until she sighed and got up and left him alone again. 

All he wanted all summer was to be alone. And now he’s terrified of it. Scared of what he’ll do if he’s left alone for too long. 

He’s not sure when he became that guy  _ again.  _ Why he’s become so dependent on Evan. 

It’s stupid and messed up. 

And he just… Connor’s mom really fucked with his head. Made him feel exactly as fucked and worthless as he was always sure he actually was. 

So he can’t bring himself to forgive her. 

Zoe chews him out on the drive home, saying he’s being such an asshole and that he’s gonna stop their mom from getting better if he keeps acting like this. 

“When you were in rehab, she didn’t say shit like that to  _ you, _ ” Zoe tells him. 

Connor just shrugs. 

His mom is… she’s the adult here. She’s the grown up. Why is it Connor’s job to be graceful and forgiving? She hasn’t made amends. She’s barely apologized. 

Connor chews the inside of his cheek. He debates telling Zoe and their dad that their mom threatened to ship him off if he mentioned anything about getting smacked on his and Zoe’s birthday to anyone at school. He wonders how they’d feel if they knew  _ that.  _

But Connor keeps that one close. It’s not their business. And she can’t exactly throw him out of the house if _she’s_ not in it. 

It was an empty threat. 

At least Connor’s pretty sure. 

He doesn’t love Zoe’s new car. His legs barely fit in the backseat which just reminds him of how huge and gross and ill fitting he is. He does not belong in this car.

In this world. 

Maybe being sent away again wouldn’t be the worst thing. Connor wonders if his dad knows any other boarding school headmasters. 

But he doesn’t want to leave Evan. 

It’s the truth of the matter. He wouldn’t want to go anywhere if it meant leaving Evan behind. 

Stupid. 

Connor’s so stupid. 

He goes upstairs for a couple of hours while his dad and Zoe putter round downstairs, debating what to make to eat when Heidi and Evan come over. 

He wonders how Zoe’s never noticed that it doesn’t make sense that Evan and Heidi have different last names if she’s his aunt on his dad's side. 

Evan’s not actually as good of a liar as he seems to think. 

Whatever. 

Connor ends up falling asleep listening to one of the CDs he got from his parents in his room. He’ll set up the new stereo in his car tomorrow. 

He wakes up, disoriented, to his phone buzzing with a text. Connor’s still half asleep when he opens it, thinking it’s probably a text from Evan or maybe a vague holiday wish from Alana Beck or even Reg. 

It’s not. 

It’s from M. 

Connor stares at  **Miguel Alvarez** for a long fucking time, positive he’s imagining it. 

Why would Miguel text him  _ today?  _ They haven’t spoken since May. 

Why today? 

The text itself isn’t anything remarkable. It doesn’t explain anything. It just leaves Connor feeling so much more confused. 

**Merry Christmas!**

He stares at it until his screen goes dark. Then opens it again to stare some more. 

He’s so fucking angry that Connor almost chucks the phone against the wall. 

Why today? Why now? 

Why didn’t he say anything else? 

Did he just text every number in his fucking phone what the fuck what the fuck? 

Connor loses it completely. Just loses it. 

Chucks the phone to the floor. 

Knocks over his bookshelf. 

Kicks his closet door so hard he knocks it off of the tracks that let it slide. 

He chucks an old Little League trophy he didn’t know he still had against the wall and watches it shatter. Slams his fist into the wall. 

Everything is wrong. Everything is fucking wrong he's fucking wrong nothing is right.  Nothing is how it’s supposed to be it’s all wrong it’s all wrong everything is fucking wrong and Connor hates it he hates it he hates it. 

He doesn’t even realize he’s screaming until the door bursts open and he sees his dad there, his face white and worried. 

“What’s happening?” His dad asks. He looks like he might be sick. 

Connor’s breathing heavily standing in the middle of his wrecked bedroom. 

“I…. I…” 

He hasn’t got an explanation. He doesn’t even know what’s happening he’s just so fucking mad it feels like he could  _ kill  _ something it’s not fair nothing is how it’s supposed to be and he hates everything. He hates himself because he’s the common denominator he’s the reason everything is fucked up why can’t he just be fucking normal what is  _ wrong _ with him?

Connor’s dad must still be in TV dad mode because his response is to cross the room and grab Connor into a hug. 

“No get the fuck off of me-”

His dad just keeps holding on as Connor’s shouts gradually quiet and he discovers he’s fucking  _ crying.  _

His dad sits him down on his bed and keeps hugging him as Connor totally loses his shit over a fucking text message which revealed every fucking thing he’s been trying to choke down for months and months. 

“What’s wrong with me?” He asks his dad quietly once the tears have dried up and all that remains is a sniffly nose and a pounding head. 

His dad pulls away to look at him. Connor got eyeliner on his shirt. “Nothing is wrong with you buddy,” his dad says firmly. “But I think we can both agree you could use some help.”

Connor can’t deny it. 

His dad sends him off to the bathroom to wash his face. 

They work together to clean up the mess in Connor’s room. His dad claps Connor on the shoulder and reminds him that Heidi and Evan will be over in an hour. 

When Heidi and Evan arrive, Connor does his best to act fucking normal. Evan’s made some kind of Jewish potato pancake thing and Connor eats two of them even though it makes his stomach hurt. He needs to be fucking better than this. 

He needs to be better. 

Evan and Zoe disappear off to look at Zoe’s car. Connor debates snatching the CD he got for Evan off of his pile of gifts because it all seems suddenly too gay for words to get him a CD after they had one conversation about it almost a month ago. 

Connor notices his dad and Heidi talking in low voices in the kitchen. He suspects they’re talking about him or maybe him and Zoe. 

Or maybe his mom isn’t paranoid and the two of them  _ are  _ having an affair. 

Probably not that. Connor hopes at least. 

Evan and Zoe come back after a little while and Evan’s face is all pink. He wonders if the car ride was just an excuse for them to make out.

The idea hurts his head a little. 

He doesn’t know if he can handle that today. 

If they ever kiss in front of him, Connor thinks, he will light himself on fire. 

Before long his dad and Heidi decide they should all exchange gifts. She and his dad laugh because they both got each other one of those stupid singing fish things. Apparently David always said he wanted one. It’s kind of funny to hear both of them singing “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” out of sync while his dad and Heidi laugh at each other. 

“Hey,” Evan says to Connor. He sort of nervously hands him two things wrapped up in red paper. He did a good job with the wrapping considering that Connor had to show him how to wrap a present earlier this week. 

Connor hands off Evan’s gifts and they both tear into them immediately. Evan laughs when he see that Connor got him  _ Fight Club.  _ “How’d you know I didn’t have a copy?” Evan asks. 

“You said you got it from the library,” Connor says. He totally didn’t snoop on the bookshelf in Evan’s room. Nope. Definitely not. 

Evan got him a copy of Allen Ginsberg‘s  _ Howl  _ which Connor hasn’t ever read. He’s excited about it. He hears it’s pretty gay. 

When Evan opens the CD, his eyes go glassy suddenly and Connor worries he’s really fucked up. 

“You remembered?” Evan asks. 

“Well… yeah.”

“Remembered what?” Zoe demands. She’s frowning at both of them. 

“Oh,” Evan says awkwardly, clearing his throat. “Just. My m-mom liked this song on here?” He blanches immediately. “Likes I mean.” 

Connor wishes Evan didn’t feel like he had to lie. It makes him really fucking sad. 

“You should open the other one,” Evan says quietly. So Connor rips off the paper to reveal a journal. It’s soft and clearly nice and he smiles brightly. 

“It’s uh. It’s pr-probably dumb but I um wr-wrote something inside?” Evan says. 

Connor opens the journal up to see Evan’s handwriting on the inside. 

_ “Dear Connor, _

_ It probably isn’t a surprise to you that I read a lot. Like, a whole lot. The library is one of my favorite places to be, one of the only places I feel safe, and books are how I escape when things are shit. (Sorry to get all sob story, woe is me on you. I promise there’s a point.) _

_ I don’t have a lot of certainty about the future, but I’m pretty sure my favorite book hasn’t been written yet. I don’t know if it’ll be poetry or short stories or a novel or even just a collection of dirty limericks, but I do know one thing - you’ll be the one who wrote it.  _

_ So here’s a place to get started, I guess. No pressure or anything. Seriously, though. If all you do with this journal is draw dicks in the cover, that’s okay. Just know that I think you’re an amazing writer. That what you write means something. And I can’t wait to see what you do next.  _

_ Your friend, _

_ Evan Hansen” _

Connor has to clear his throat several times before he can speak again. 

He’s smiling so hard his face actually aches with the effort. “Thank you,” he says to Evan softly. And then Evan smiles and hugs him and it’s not exactly bro-hug length and Connor can smell Evan’s shampoo and his deodorant and he’s just so damn glad he knows Evan. 

He’s so glad he knows him. 

Everything might be wrong but at least Connor has Evan in his life.

* * *

Sabrina’s mom seems to be following the Cynthia Murphy method of coping on Christmas Day. She sits back and sulks as Sabrina’s dad and grandparents cook and drinks glass after glass of Chardonnay, occasionally making snarky comments about the amount of oil and fat that’s going into the meal. 

When they sit down to eat, she goes to the fridge and pulls out another glass of wine. Doesn’t touch a single thing that’s been cooked. 

Just like last year, Sabrina’s dad looks embarrassed. 

Just like last year, Sabrina is careful not to eat too much so that her mom doesn’t freak out on her, but makes sure she’s eating enough to not offend her grandparents.

This balancing act is exhausting. 

They exchange gifts in the afternoon. There’s a pile of clothes for Sabrina at least two sizes smaller than she currently is and a gym membership from her mother. The gym membership is actually kind of cool, Sabrina thinks, because she likes the idea of getting more exercise. Getting her strength up.

When she looks up the gym later on, it’s all pilates and yoga and full of ways to make sure you’re burning fat, not gaining muscle. 

Her grandparents give her nearly a thousand dollars in cash, a gorgeous sari and a plane ticket to visit Delhi with them next summer. Grandma looks at Sabrina’s dad challengingly as Sabrina unwraps it. Sabrina’s mom’s face goes almost purple and she leaves the room immediately. 

Sabrina’s dad follows after her. He’s back ten minutes later.

Sabrina’s mom is nowhere to be seen for the rest of the day and that kind of changes the mood. Everyone relaxes a little. Daada brings out ingredients to make jalebi, which Sabrina hasn’t had since she was little. 

They spend the rest of the afternoon cooking. Sabrina gets to carefully pipe the dough into the hot oil, trying to mimic Grandma’s perfect spirals, but they end up more like her Daada’s, which are decidedly more abstract. 

“Doesn’t matter,” says Daada with a smile. “They’ll be delicious either way.”

Her dad makes the sugar syrup, a contented smile on his face. “We used to make these all the time when I was little,” he says happily. “We’d always get them whenever we visited Delhi. There are vendors on the street who sell them.”

“Mine are better,” says Daada immediately, and Sabrina’s dad laughs and agrees. 

Sabrina’s never been to Delhi. The idea of going with her grandparents definitely appeals. She wonders what it’s going to be like. If she’ll feel at home there. 

She’s only a quarter Indian. Probably not. 

Still, though. She’s looking forward to it. 

Provided her mom actually lets her go. 

Later that night, they’re working their way through the frankly ridiculous amount of jalebi, debating whether they should watch a film when the doorbell rings. Sabrina goes to answer it and is completely shocked to find Zoe at the door. 

She’s in jeans and a t-shirt and a soft-looking sweater, face completely void of make-up, her hair in a ponytail. It makes her look younger. 

Her eyes and nose are red. 

“Hi,” says Sabrina, opening the door a little. “Everything okay?”

Zoe shrugs. Laughs a little bitterly. “Well it’s Christmas Day and my mom’s in rehab, so.”

Sabrina isn’t sure what to say. Zoe’s been denying the rumors ever since cotillion, but Sabrina’s mom had been insistent that’s what was happening. 

Looks like she’s right. 

“Do you want to come in?” Sabrina asks. 

Zoe hesitates. “Your mom hates me,” she says, her shoulders sagging. “And it’s Christmas.”

Sabrina shrugs. “My mom’s in bed,” she points out. “Avoiding my dad’s parents. They’re here, and we were going to watch a movie.”

Zoe’s cheeks flush. “I don’t want to interrupt-”

“No offense,” says Sabrina, trying not to sound annoyed, “but you’re here on Christmas Day?”

Zoe’s shoulders sag. “Fuck,” she mutters. “I shouldn’t even be here, I-”

Sabrina makes a decision. She slings her arm around Zoe’s shoulder and brings her inside. Guides her toward the kitchen, where her grandparents are still talking about movies. Her dad looks a little surprised at the sight of them. 

“Zoe? Everything okay?”

“Zoe’s going to watch a movie with us,” Sabrina says firmly, looking at her dad significantly. He doesn’t argue, just nods. 

They end up putting on a Bollywood film Daada says is good. It’s called _Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna_ , which Sabrina fights her hardest to pronounce correctly and apparently translates as _Never Say Goodbye_. 

Like all Bollywood films, it’s an overdramatic, ridiculous affair where people burst into song and insane things happen. It’s very easy to get sucked into and Sabrina finds herself utterly absorbed. So does Zoe, from her reactions. 

Grandma and Daada insist they eat the jalebi, which Zoe seems a little hesitant about at first, but ends up eating a whole bunch of them. Sabrina’s glad to see that. Kind of relieved. 

She doesn’t want Zoe to end up like Connor. 

Sabrina kind of wants to ask about Connor. Wants to ask if he’s okay, if the Murphys are doing something to try to help him. She notices he sits with Evan at lunch, and she notices that Evan always seems to be trying to feed him. 

That’s probably good. 

Even if Evan isn’t exactly Sabrina’s favorite person right now. 

Which is dumb and stupid and jealous and weird, because Evan’s nice. Sure, he punched Jared at the beginning of the school year, punched Brian and Chad, but he hasn’t punched anyone since then. 

If Zoe’s going to be throwing herself at one of the assholes around here, she could do a whole lot worse than Evan. 

Doesn’t mean Sabrina has to be friends with him, though. 

She thinks she might actually want to be friends with him if it weren’t for Zoe’s stupid crush on him. Evan seems like a genuinely decent person, and they’re in short supply around here. 

Doesn’t mean he’s perfect, though. There’s definitely something weird about him. Something out of place. 

Alana thinks there’s something weird about Evan. She told Sabrina that after cotillion. Said that there’s something off about him, especially when it comes to school. That there are things that don’t make sense about him. 

Sabrina thinks that Alana’s just worried he’ll beat her for valedictorian next year. She’s not going to say that, though, because she doesn’t want to open that particular can of worms. 

When the movie’s over, Sabrina’s grandparents go to bed. They hug her tightly and kiss her on both cheeks, and even hug and kiss Zoe, which Zoe seems to find super weird and a little overwhelming. She doesn’t complain though, which Sabrina appreciates. 

Sabrina walks Zoe out to her new car. 

It’s a red VW bug and it’s super cute. She tells her that and Zoe’s face twists a little. 

“It’s exactly what I wanted,” she says, her voice small. “And I can’t, like, be happy about it?” She sighs. “I sound like a spoiled brat, oh my god.”

“I’m sorry about your mom,” Sabrina says softly. “It must be really weird, not having her here for Christmas.”

Zoe’s eyes fill with tears. “Yeah,” she says. “It is.”

Sabrina reaches out and tucks a stray strand of hair behind Zoe’s hair. Lets her hand rest on her cheek for longer than she should. 

Leans in and kisses her softly. 

Zoe responds immediately, deepening the kiss, wrapping her arms around Sabrina. 

A part of Sabrina feels like she’s been waiting for this all day. 

“Come back to my place?” Zoe asks gently. “We can stay in the pool house. I’ll drive you home before your parents wake up, everyone always sleeps late the day after Christmas.”

It’s a terrible idea. 

The stupidest idea. 

But Sabrina agrees anyway. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from "Yule Shoot Your Eye Out" by Fall Out Boy. 
> 
> Fic title is from "Camisado" by Panic! at the Disco


	27. No You Won't Disarm My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The New Year dawns, and Evan, Connor and Heidi visit D.C.

The rest of the holidays are uneventful, mostly, with the occasional side of awkward. Heidi and Evan head to the Murphys on New Year’s Eve. Evan’s not 100% sure why they’re hanging out at the Murphys all of a sudden, but he thinks it’s mostly because Heidi’s kind of worried about Mr. Murphy and how he’s handling his wife being in rehab. 

Which is still… the weirdest fucking thing. 

Just… so fucking weird to Evan. 

He overheard Mr. Murphy and Heidi talking about how it’s the best rehab facility in the area, how Mrs. Murphy is comfortable and looked after, how she’s doing a whole bunch of yoga while she recovers. 

It makes him stupidly angry, thinking about Mrs. Murphy in rehab, doing fucking yoga when she’s completely devastated her kids. 

When Connor’s barely eaten since cotillion and is looking more and more like a skeleton every day. 

Evan’s terrified that Mr. Murphy will have no choice but to send Connor away, too, and he doesn’t know if he can handle that. Even though things have been weird between them since cotillion because of the whole Zoe thing, Evan doesn’t know if he can handle Connor just… disappearing on him. 

It’s probably not healthy. 

To rely on someone so much. 

He needs to get his shit together. The last four months here in this fancy rich neighborhood have made him soft. 

The only person Evan can rely on is himself, and even that’s a stretch. 

He keeps thinking about Heidi calling him her kid. 

Talking about how she wants to keep him. 

He desperately wants to believe her. Wants it more than anything he’s ever wanted before. 

But he knows that he shouldn’t. That he  _ can’t.  _

New Year’s Eve is pretty low-key, really, but it’s better than most New Year’s Eves in recent memory. New Year’s Eve was yet another excuse for Mark to drink and Evan learned quickly to avoid the house for a couple of days at least, after a broken arm when he was twelve and a broken collarbone when he was thirteen. 

It shouldn’t have taken him that long to learn. Fool me once, fool me twice, and so on and so forth. 

Fuck, he was a stupid kid. 

New Year’s Eve in Newport Beach consists of dinner with Heidi and the Murphys, which Evan’s pleased to note Connor actually eats. Evan suspects it’s because he and Connor help cook. They do salad and grilled chicken and Evan keeps up a running commentary about all the things they’re putting in the salad and their various health benefits, which probably annoys the fuck out of Mr. Murphy, given how he keeps looking at him kinda strangely, but he can’t help it. 

He needs Connor to eat. 

After dinner, Zoe announces she’s going to a party and leaves without saying goodbye. Mr. Murphy looks at Heidi, who raises her eyebrows, then follows after her. 

Ten minutes later, Mr. Murphy comes back, looking worn out. 

The four of them sit down in front of the Murphys’ huge flatscreen TV to watch a movie. Connor suggests Jurassic Park, and Heidi gives him this big smile. 

Evan and Heidi have watched it together a few times. It seems to make Heidi happy. 

It makes something inside Evan’s chest warm to realize that Connor seems to know that about Heidi. Cares about her happiness. 

Mr. Murphy and Heidi sit on opposite ends of the couch, with Evan and Connor between them. 

It is the weirdest fucking thing. 

When it gets close to midnight, Mr. Murphy opens a bottle of sparkling cider and pours the four of them a glass. When the clock strikes twelve, they toast and wish each other Happy New Year. 

Mr. Murphy and Heidi seem to be having some kind of private conversation, so Evan turns to Connor. 

“Glad to see the back of 2006?” he asks, trying to keep his tone casual. 

Connor shrugs. His face twists a little. 

“I mean, parts of it sucked,” he mumbles. “My mom’s in rehab, I got kicked out of boarding school and my sister officially hates me.” 

Evan’s chest aches a little at that. “I’m sorry.”

Connor looks at him intently. “It’s not all bad,” he says quietly. He nudges Evan with his elbow gently. “I met you. That was pretty great.”

Evan can’t help smiling. He must look like such a fucking idiot, grinning like a maniac, but Connor returns the smile, and Evan feels warm. Warmer than he has in a long time. 

Going back to school isn’t his favorite thing. People are still being dicks to Connor. Still making fun of him. Evan’s still running damage control, and he can tell how much Connor hates it. 

But they only have to go to school for two days, then they’re off to Washington D.C. for this young writers’ workshop. 

The workshop that Evan’s still not sure how he feels about. 

Practically he knows that it’s a big deal. A big opportunity. That it’ll look good on his college application. Even if everything here fucking falls apart like it’s bound to eventually, there’ll still be this prestigious national writing workshop on his application, and that’s  _ something.  _

He just…

He can’t picture college. Can’t hold it in his mind, can’t figure out how it would work. What he’d even do. The future is this weird, amorphous blob. This vague, unattainable thing he can’t get a hold of, no matter how much he tries. 

At least it’s something now, though. He used to not be able to picture a future at all. 

If Evan’s brutally honest with himself, he’d have to admit that a part of him didn’t think he’d make it through high school. He’s got some level of self-preservation, sure, but all it takes is a slip-up, a word spoken out of turn, coming home at the wrong time, and he’d be getting the shit beaten out of him. 

It was getting worse as he got older, that much he can see, and even though he fought back, even though he gave as good as he got most times, Evan knows that if Mark or Ethan got in a lucky hit, he could have found himself seriously hurt. 

That’s… 

Evan knows that if someone else told him that this was their life, he’d freak out. Be genuinely concerned, insist that they do something, talk to someone. 

But it’s not someone else’s life. It’s  _ his  _ life. 

A life he’s not living anymore, sure, but… not something that’s just going to go away. 

Even though he’s at least a solid hour’s drive from Chino, it’s something he carries with him, everywhere he goes. 

That fear. 

Fuck, he’s pathetic sometimes. 

Maybe that’s why he can’t just be happy about this writers’ workshop the way Connor is. Connor’s so excited, so genuinely pumped, and Evan doesn’t want to be a bummer, doesn’t want to ruin his friend’s happiness because Connor has suffered so much, he’s had such a fucking hard time and he shouldn’t have to deal with Evan being a downer because he’s got fucking daddy issues or some bullshit. 

So he does his best to fake it. 

Heidi’s excited, too. She’s got friends in D.C. she wants to catch up with. Apparently her best friend from her undergrad lives there. Her name’s Laurel, she’s a political reporter and she wants to have dinner with Heidi and Evan while they’re in town. 

Heidi invites Connor to tag along, which suits Evan fine because he’s not so great with strangers. Especially strangers who are old friends of Heidi’s and therefore know that Evan is definitely not her nephew. 

They’re going to do that on the first night they’re in town, apparently. It adds to Evan’s nervousness, the anxiety he’s already got churning around inside him, but he tries not to let it show. 

Tries not to make it super obvious. 

He’s a wreck at the airport. It’s an early start, way earlier than he’s used to, and he’s completely exhausted. He hadn’t slept at all the night before. He’d just been freaking out too much. Heidi gets stuck on a phone call as they’re waiting at the gate and Connor keeps looking at him, frowning a little. It takes him a while, but finally Connor actually says something. 

“Have you ever flown before?” Evan shakes his head. Connor bites his lip. Nods. “Makes sense,” he says. He offers a half smile. “My dad and Heidi apparently sprung for business class, so we’ll be comfortable, at least.”

“It’s n-not the comfort I’m w-worried about,” Evan says bluntly. “It’s p-plummeting from the sky and landing in the ocean and d-drowning.”

“First off, we’re flying over land,” Connor points out. “So there’s no ocean involved. We’d probably all die on impact if we crashed on land. Nice and quick.”

“Not helpful,” Evan mutters.

Connor’s expression changes. He takes his iPod out of his pocket, unwinds the headphones, then offers Evan one of the buds. “A distraction might help,” he says, and Evan takes it and puts it in his ear. 

Connor puts on something kind of quiet and soothing, and they listen until the plane calls for boarding. 

It actually does help. 

When they board the plane, Evan’s got the window seat. Connor pulls out the copy of  _ Howl _ Evan bought him for Christmas and smiles at him a little. “Do you want to listen to my iPod the whole time?” he offers. “It might be easier if you just… close your eyes and listen to music. Focus on that.”

Evan’s so fucking grateful he could kiss Connor. 

Not that he would. 

Fuck, that’s weird. 

“Thank you,” he says quietly. 

As the plane takes off, Connor takes his hand and squeezes it tight. After the safety briefing, Evan puts the headphones in and closes his eyes, as instructed. 

He dozes off at some point and wakes up just as they’re landing. 

It’s…

It’s not that bad. 

The flight isn’t that bad. 

Maybe this is going to be okay. 

It takes a while to get from the airport to the hotel. The weather is completely different in Washington D.C., which Heidi had tried to prepare Evan for as best she could. Mr. Murphy had done the same with Connor, making him bring a thick jacket and a scarf and a hat. 

Connor’s so bundled up in layers and layers of clothing that he doesn’t look as scarily thin, which helps Evan’s anxiety a little bit. 

He’s just… so fucking worried about him. 

So fucking worried. 

The hotel is just… stupidly fancy. 

Evan’s completely overwhelmed. It’s so fucking expensive looking. There’s a carafe of water with fucking orange slices in it. 

They check in and get settled in their rooms. Evan and Connor are sharing a room, which suits Evan just fine. This whole thing is overwhelming enough without having to deal with being alone. Heidi’s just down the hall, it turns out, which Evan suspects is deliberate. 

Registration for the workshop opens at 10, even though the workshop doesn’t start until after lunch, so Evan and Connor head down to register. They get out of the elevator and head toward the conference room when all of a sudden, Connor stops in his tracks. His eyes go wide. 

Evan follows his gaze to see a guy their age walking toward the elevator, carrying a beaten up duffel bag. He’s about Evan’s height. Dark hair, kind of wavy. Latino. Skinny, but not the same way Connor’s skinny. He has a jacket slung over his arm and is wearing a navy blue blazer, along with dress pants and a shirt and tie, all crisp and immaculate.

It’s a strange contrast, this expensive-looking uniform and the duffel bag that’s worn and faded. 

Heidi had bought Evan a brand new suitcase for this trip. 

He’s suddenly weirdly self-conscious about it. 

The guy looks right at them. Blinks. Looks genuinely surprised. 

Then he smiles, this big smile that shows off deep dimples in his cheeks. 

Evan feels weirdly cold. 

“No fucking way,” says Connor from beside Evan, his voice rough. “M?”

* * *

Connor is positive he’s stopped breathing. 

Miguel is just. Standing there in the hotel lobby in his Hanover uniform and smiling. 

Smiling at Connor. 

Connor stupidly looks behind him to make sure he’s not standing in front of someone else M could be smiling at. 

“Murphy holy shit! I didn’t know you were gonna be here!” Miguel exclaims, and then he’s hurrying toward him and shifting his bag and jacket so he can pull Connor into a tight one-armed hug. 

He smells exactly the same. 

A little too much like Axe body spray. 

“You look like shit,” he tells Connor affectionately when he pulls away, slapping Connor’s cheek lightly. He keeps a hand on Connor’s shoulder. “Aren’t Californians supposed to be tan?”

Connor blinks a few times. “I. I’m. Uh.” Connor shakes his head. He’s trying to wake up. “What are you  _ doing _ here?” 

“So get this,” M says, his voice light and happy. “Turns out I’m not that bad at English even when I’m not copying off of your homework. Mr. Burns, like,  _ insisted  _ I come to this soirée, right?” 

“Cool,” Connor chokes out. 

“Right?” M says. “You staying here in the hotel? Sweet dude this is perfect I was just bitching about how I got stuck rooming with Mitch? Like, homeboy has got sleep apnea or some shit, he keeps me up all the damn time and now I gotta deal with his snoring ass here in D.C.? Some bullshit right there, man, lemme tell you.”

“Mitch Kelly is your new roommate?” Connor says. His heart hurts. Do they still live in his and M’s old room? Does M still leave the light on all night? Does he still have that resin art Connor made hanging up? 

“Yeah. Apparently I’m like the cursed guy to get stuck with. First Lorenzo drops out to go do some bullshit acting thing and then you got thrown out so Mitch is, like, paranoid I’m gonna get him killed.”

Connor can’t fucking breathe. 

“But how are you, dude? You didn’t text me back at Christmas.”

Connor’s jaw drops. 

He didn’t text back because he hadn’t heard from Miguel in months and he assumed it was. A mistake. 

A cruel joke. 

Something. 

“I’m… fine,” Connor says at length. 

Beside him, he hears Evan clear his throat awkwardly. 

Oh right shit. 

Connor sucks at this. “Oh, uh, shit I’m being an asshole. Miguel this is Evan Hansen. He’s my…” It feels wrong to declare Evan his best friend suddenly. Like he’s bragging that he’s moved on or whatever. “We go to Harbor together. Evan, this is Miguel Alvarez. We were roommates last year at Hanover.”

“Fuck you,” Miguel says warmly. “This asshole’s my  _ boy.  _ We’re hella tight.” He offers a hand to Evan, his expression significantly less warm now. “Nice to meet you.” 

Evan shakes his hand with a stunned expression on his face. “You too,” he says quietly. “Connor, we’re s-supposed to go sign in?” 

“Shit right,” Connor says apologetically. “We should go.”

M nods happily. “Sweet. I’m just gonna go drop this shit off and get out of this get up. We’re allowed to  _ dress down  _ for this, Murphy, can you believe the  _ luxury  _ of wearing your own fucking clothes?” He laughs. “I’ll come find you once I’m down here, yeah?” 

“Yeah sure sounds good,” Connor says quickly. Miguel hugs him again and then lopes off toward the elevators. 

Connor realizes Evan is giving him a  _ look.  _

“What?” Connor says. 

“Nothing,” Evan mutters. “Just. H-him bringing up how you got k-kicked out of school?”

Connor shrugs. “It’s not a big deal.”

Evan’s brow wrinkles. “Didn’t he also, like, t-totally bail on you when you got back home?”

Connor glares at him. “Can you just like. Chill?”

Evan looks like he might punch someone. Maybe he wants to punch Connor. That would be different. 

But he puts his hands in his pockets and starts off toward the registration table. 

Connor follows, feeling annoyed. What the fuck is Evan’s problem anyway? 

* * *

Cool, so this guy’s an asshole. 

A total, complete asshole. 

Evan knows he shouldn’t be so quick to draw a conclusion. Knows all that bullshit about not judging a book by its cover. 

But, like…

How the fuck else are you supposed to judge a book?

Evan just… doesn’t like how this Miguel kid is all friendly and warm with Connor when he completely fucked him over. Took advantage of his generosity, then ignored him for months. 

He keeps thinking about how sad Connor seemed about it when they talked at the beach the night of Connor’s birthday. They’d talked about it the night of the concert, too, and Connor had…

Blamed himself. 

Talked about how he was annoying and clingy and had driven Miguel away and…

That’s all water under the bridge, apparently, and Miguel keeps hugging Connor and touching him and acting like he hadn’t, like, ignored him for months. 

Except that he texted at Christmas. 

He texted at Christmas? 

Miguel texted Connor at Christmas, and Connor didn’t say anything about that. 

Not that he should. Or had to. Or was supposed to. 

Evan needs to get a grip. 

Get a fucking grip, because he feels like punching something. 

Someone. 

He could totally take that skinny asshole. 

Totally. 

The registration process doesn’t take long. Neither, apparently, does Miguel, because he’s back almost immediately. He’s wearing black skinny jeans and chucks and a band t-shirt and a hoodie. 

He and Connor and dressed practically identically. 

Just like boarding school, except without the blazer. 

Evan feels horribly out of place. Like a total nerd. He’s in a v-neck sweater with a button-down shirt underneath. At least he’s wearing jeans and not the khaki pants Heidi got him for Christmas he was considering wearing. 

Fuck. Everything he'd packed is just… wrong.

Miguel immediately hugs Connor again, like he hasn’t seen him in forever despite the fact that he’s literally been gone five minutes, then drapes himself on his shoulder, like he’s trying to stake his claim. Watches Evan intently, looking him up and down. 

He looks like he’s about to say something when Evan spots Heidi out of the corner of his eye. She seems to spot him at the exact same time, and walks over. 

Evan can’t tell if he does or doesn’t want her to. 

“All registered?” asks Heidi, her voice bright as she approaches, and both Connor and Miguel look in her direction. Connor’s cheeks turn red and Miguel kind of tilts his head assessingly. She seems to notice the way Miguel is basically all over Connor and offers a polite smile. 

“This is, uh, M-Miguel,” says Evan, when it becomes obvious that neither Connor or Miguel are going to make introductions. “He’s a f-friend of Connor’s from his o-old school?” He swallows hard, very aware that Miguel’s looking at him like he’s a special type of stupid. “And, uh, this is my… this is Heidi?”

“She’s his aunt,” Connor explains, looking at Evan a little questioningly, then back to Miguel. 

Miguel’s eyes widen a little, something like recognition on his face. “Are you the same Heidi who lives next door to Connor?” he asks. Politely, at least. 

Heidi nods. “I’ve known Connor since he was little.”

Miguel nods back. Extends a hand to shake. “Connor told me your husband passed unexpectedly last year,” he says, and his voice is smooth and sincere-sounding. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

Heidi looks kind of taken aback. She smiles, and it’s a little less polite and a little more genuine. “Thank you, Miguel, that’s very kind of you.” She turns to Evan. “I just wanted to check in quickly before your workshop. I know we talked about getting lunch but I have a phone meeting with a client, I’m so sorry.”

Evan feels a sting of disappointment. “It’s o-okay,” he says, hating the way his voice shakes, his stutter worsening because this Miguel kid makes him nervous and uncomfortable as hell. “Are we s-still on for t-t-tonight? W-with your f-friend?”

Heidi smiles, but there’s something a little concerned in her expression. “Of course, honey.” She takes her wallet out of her purse and hands Evan a stack of $20 bills. “There’s a restaurant here. Why don’t you and Connor and Miguel go get something to eat before the workshop starts? You’ve all had an early start, no doubt. Could be good to get something substantial before all that learning kicks in.”

Something ugly and familiar flashes in Miguel’s eyes, but only for a second. He fixes Heidi with a polite smile. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you very much.”

Heidi smiles, then her phone rings. She apologizes profusely and heads off to take the call. Evan stares at the money in his hand dumbly for a moment. 

Miguel’s the first one to speak. 

“Wow, rich folks are really just like that, huh?” he says with a laugh. “There’s gotta be, like, nearly $200 there.” He fixes Evan with a look. “Guess it’s no big deal for someone like you, huh?” 

Connor looks at Evan, something hesitant in his expression. Evan feels his face burn and shoves the money in his pocket, trying not to make it obvious that his hands are shaking. 

“L-let’s g-g-go eat,” he manages to choke out. 

Miguel grins easily, then tightens his grip on Connor. “Lead the way,” he says, a little mockingly. 

Evan tenses his shoulders and heads toward the hotel restaurant, Connor and Miguel following him at a distance. 

He can hear them talking, but not what they’re saying. 

He feels like he just failed a test he didn’t know he was taking.

* * *

M keeps his arm around Connor’s shoulder the whole walk to the restaurant. Connor can’t decide if he likes it or if he wants to shrug him off. 

Evan’s walking a little ways ahead of them. 

“Seriously, Murphy, why didn’t you text me back?”

Connor sort of mutters some nonsense about being busy. 

Miguel’s voice drops slightly. It’s lower and softer. “I miss hanging out with you,” He says. “You don’t look good, Murphy.” 

“I’m fine,” Connor says awkwardly. 

“Tell me what’s been going on? Is it weird being home?” 

Connor shrugs out from under Miguel’s arm. “Yeah. It is.” 

M’s smile fades. “Dude.” 

Connor walks faster to catch up with Evan, not sure why but he can’t stand the intensity of M’s gaze. He feels like M’s seeing every fucked up thought in his head. Like he would laugh about it. 

Connor catches up with Evan, who is frowning deeply. “Hey,” he says. 

Evan looks at him. “Hey,” he says, his voice sort of quiet. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Connor says. He’s not sure if he’s being honest. “You?”

“Great,” Evan mumbles. He looks at Connor uncertainly. “Are y-you gonna be okay? W-with lunch?”

Connor shoves his hands into his pockets. “Yeah. I’ll be… I’ll be fine.”

Evan tilts his head slightly. “Does he…?”

But then Miguel is falling into step beside them, talking enthusiastically about one of the lectures this afternoon which is about use of descriptive language in prose writing. “This guy’s like a mega genius,” M says as they are all directed toward a booth by the window. “He’s written like entire books on color language and how it relates to emotion.” 

“That’s really cool,” Connor says with a smile. 

It’s weird, having M suddenly just… be there again. He wasn’t expecting it. He feels a little like he’s got whiplash. 

“Yeah, as long as he doesn’t do that bullshit where white men describe all people of color in terms of food,” Miguel goes on, his tone cutting. “Like if I gotta read one more description of someone as having ‘caramel’ skin I’m gonna fucking shoot myself.” 

Evan glances nervously over at Connor for a second. So fast it’s almost imperceptible. 

“Y-yeah,” Evan says after a beat. “That’s uh. Uh-uh r-really good p-p-point? About f-food words.” 

“Yes, see Murphy, this dude knows what I’m talking about. It’s fucking racism, plain and simple, showing people of color as commodities for consumption. Can you believe that we did a writing exercise in Burns’s class where we had to describe each other and Spencer described me as ‘exotic?’ Like what kind of bullshit white nonsense is that.” He takes a breath, looking pointedly at Evan. “No offense.”

Evan blinks. “Uh… um. N-none t-taken?”

Connor swallows and looks down at the menu in front of him. The food is, first off, super fancy. And the next thing Connor notices is that all of it is pretty… rich. A lot of soul food-adjacent recipes. Everything is either fried or covered in cheese and Connor feels his gag reflex acting up and he hasn’t even ordered anything. 

“Fucking hell isn’t there a single vegetable on this whole menu?” Miguel complains. “It’s like they want us to be obese, Jesus.” Connor swallows uncomfortably. Miguel is resting his arm on the back of the seat behind Connor’s head, flipping through the menu with slight disgust. “And they want fifteen bucks for a burger?”

Connor hasn’t even been looking at the prices and he immediately feels like a fucking asshole. This place isn’t cheap and sure, Heidi gave them money, but fuck he could have suggested they go somewhere else so M didn’t feel weird about it. And Evan too, he’s also staring down at the numbers with a frown, shit, why can’t Connor remember to fucking watch himself so he doesn’t behave like such a fucking spoiled asshole? 

Connor swallows. He’s overwhelmed looking at the menu. He definitely can’t eat like this. He kicks out his foot, hoping to nudge Evan lightly, get his attention, maybe get him to help or something but he kicks too hard and Evan jumps and says, “Ow.”

“Fuck, sorry,” Connor mumbled, embarrassed, “Thought you were the table leg shit.”

Miguel’s laughing openly. “You two playing footsie?” He says with a grin. “How  _ precious _ .”

“Wh-why d-d-don’t we go somewhere else?” Evan says, and Connor could kiss him he’s so grateful. 

“Thank god, I cannot eat this shit,” Miguel says, immediately getting up. “I spotted a taco truck around the corner, y’all wanna hit that up?”

Evan glances at Connor and Connor thinks he could probably find something small to eat there so he nods. M loops his arm around Connor’s shoulders again and leads the way. Evan falls into step beside them. M chats happily about how he’s been going to a lot of shows lately but notes with a frown that he didn’t get a chance to see Panic! at the Disco’s “Nothing Rhymes with Circus” tour live. “I’ve had to watch a bunch of grainy cell phone videos and it’s just not the same, dude.” 

“W-we uh,” Evan starts, his cheeks going a little pink. “I-I-I m-mean, Connor and I. H-he and I-”

“Take your time,” Miguel says, smiling brightly at Evan. “You got this.”

Evan’s face goes blotchy and red. “We went to that,” He manages to say without stuttering. “In December.”

“No shit, really?” M says, shaking Connor’s shoulders a little. “Tell me everything, dude. Were there really people on stilts and whatever?”

Connor nods. The conversation takes them all the way to the taco truck Miguel mentioned. Connor tells him about the way Ryan Ross and Brendon Urie almost made out (“That’s fucking hot, fuck.”) and that the band covered “Killer Queen,” (“Holy shit, and I missed it?”) and then, and Connor’s not exactly sure why, he mentions how he and Evan got grounded for staying out all night by accident. 

“Technically I might still be grounded,” Connor muses. “I never officially got ungrounded.”

“Grounded,” Miguel says, shaking his head. “That’s like. So cute. Evan, you get grounded too?”

Evan nods, his mouth pressed into a hard line. 

“Fucking adorable,” He says, shaking his head some more. “If that had been me? My mom would have kicked my ass. Wouldn’t have been able to see straight for a while.” He smirks at Evan. “But I’m sure being grounded is a real bummer.”

“Dude,” Connor says to M. He doesn’t exactly want to spill all of Evan’s guts or anything, but like. Evan’s definitely had worse than any ass-kicking Miguel’s mom would dole out. She’s strict and no-nonsense, sure, but Connor suspects she might have smacked him upside the head once and called it a day if M got caught staying out all night. Like. He shouldn’t be bragging about how tough he is because his mom has smacked him a couple of times. 

Especially not to Evan who has definitely got both of them beat when it comes that shit. 

“What are you getting?” M asks when they arrive at the taco truck. Connor squints at the menu and tries to pick something that’s going to be easy enough to eat. He ends up picking one of the vegetarian options, because he knows he can probably choke down some peppers and beans, and worst case he can ditch the tortilla or something. Miguel makes fun of his Spanish pronunciation, and Connor responds that he’s taking  _ French _ . 

Miguel gets like. Way more food than is probably necessary, ordering tamales and a burrito and chips with a side of guac. 

Evan stutters out his order, similar to Connor’s but with a steak taco added in because he actually eats meat sometimes, and Miguel leans in close to Connor’s ear and mutters, “Hope he writes better than he talks, damn.” 

Connor gives M a dirty look. “Don’t be an asshole,” he says back. Miguel’s eyes flash in surprise. 

Then he gets this weird smile on his face. 

“Oh, I get it,” He says with a big huge grin. “You  _ like  _ this closet case.”

Connor opens his mouth to deny it but then Evan’s rejoined them. He’s not smiling. He looks tense. He keeps fucking with the collar of his shirt, which Connor thinks looks unnecessarily nice under his sweater. 

They all sort of fall silent while they wait for the food. 

Connor stares down at his new Christmas Chucks and finds himself embarrassed by how white they still are. He should have tried harder to scuff them up before they arrived. They reek of being an expensive gift. 

Once they have their food, M directs them all toward a bench nearby and they grab seats and dig in. Evan sprung for Mexican Cokes for all three of them, and Connor is so fucking grateful because he’s having a hard time swallowing. 

“H-hey,” Evan says, nudging Connor with his knee. “What’s in that anyway?”

Connor looks down at his food. “Um. Black beans and corn and um. Tomatoes. Green and red peppers? Oh and a little avocado.” 

Evan grins at him. “Bl-black beans are a g-good source of pr-protein?” He says. “And iron. Wh-which is, you know, good, because like. Anemia isn’t…” He chews and swallows a bite. “They’ve also got potassium and-and magnesium? And, like, avocados have, like, vitamins A and E, and also B5 and B6?” 

Miguel chuckles from Connor’s other side. “Did you, like, memorize what shit is in all this food?”

Evan’s face goes red again. “I j-just like to know, like, uh. F-facts?”

“None of this shit is  _ good  _ for you,” Miguel says, rolling his eyes. “I mean there’s, what, almost forty grams of sugar in this drink alone. We’re halfway to heart disease with this meal.” He takes a bite of his burrito and grins. “But at least it tastes good, eh?” 

Connor struggles to swallow his next bite. 

Is there that much sugar in this drink? He doesn’t usually drink soda much. Just water and black coffee. The rare smoothie if Evan gives him one. 

Connor wraps the rest of his food back up in his wrapper and goes to deposit it in the nearest trash. He can’t make his jaw work to take another bite. 

Instead, he lights a cigarette. 

Miguel shoves the rest of his tamale into his mouth and pitches his wrappers into the trash. He holds his hand out to Connor and Connor automatically gives him a smoke. Lights it for him. 

Evan’s watching them with a frown. 

“What? What’s the benefit of having a rich friend if you can’t bum a smoke off of him from time to time, eh?” Miguel says. He’s got his arm around Connor’s shoulders again and Connor honestly doesn’t remember if this used to be normal or if it feels weird because it is weird. 

“Do you want one?” Connor asks Evan. They usually just share cigarettes a lot of the time. They both keep saying they’re not even real smokers and should just quit all together, but then they don’t commit. 

“I’m g-good thanks,” Evan says, his voice really quiet. He’s frowning at Connor and M, standing close to each other and smoking. 

Connor’s reminded of how he looked when Reg was flirting with him at cotillion. How for a brief moment Connor had been stupid enough to think he was jealous before he realized that Evan was probably just wigged out to see Connor’s theoretical gayness be thrust into reality. 

It’s probably just that. 

But at least Evan’s trying to be cool about it. 

He’s trying. 

“So, hey,” M says suddenly. “Murphy, how’s the fam? Fucking Larry still giving you migraines?”

Connor shrugs awkwardly as they walk back toward the hotel. He doesn’t want to bad mouth his dad because he’s actually been pretty okay, so he relates Larry’s move into TV dad territory and how it’s sort of fucking weird how hard he seems to be trying to get them to like, bond, or whatever. 

“He could be in jail,” Miguel says. “So like. It can’t be  _ that  _ bad, huh? Like. It’s not a  _ real  _ problem to have your dad be hovering and trying too hard.”

“No, I… I know,” Connor says with a shrug. 

He doesn’t look at Evan as he says it. 

He’s afraid of what he would say about that. 

* * *

The workshop is good. 

Full on. Intense. 

A good distraction from the way that Miguel won’t stop hanging all over Connor. 

An even better distraction from the way that Evan feels about Miguel hanging all over Connor. 

He tries to figure it out, wrestle it around in his head as he and Heidi get in a cab to some restaurant in downtown D.C. to meet Heidi’s friend Laurel. Tries to figure out if he’s just really fucking homophobic or some bullshit. 

Evan doesn’t want to be homophobic. 

He doesn’t. Really doesn’t. 

Connor is his best friend and he’s gay. It’s just who he is. And Evan genuinely loves who Connor is, in a totally platonic, not at all gay kind of way. 

That’s a weird realization. 

He doesn’t think he’s ever really thought about love as it applies to his feelings for someone before. 

He loved his mom. Still loves his mom. 

Love is… weird and elusive and strange and something people write about. 

He’s probably only thinking about the concept of love because one of the speakers said to not be afraid of big emotions. 

Which is easier said than done. Everything about big emotions is fucking scary. What does this asshole with his tweed jacket and glasses know? 

And he knows there’s a difference between being in love and loving someone, and that it’s just a word, like any other, but that words have power and meaning and…

He needs to get his shit together. 

Stop being distracted by emotions. 

Evan’s always done better when he focuses on facts. 

Fact: Miguel and Connor were roommates at Hanover. 

Fact: Connor took the fall for Miguel and got himself kicked out. 

Fact: Connor and Miguel had some sort of relationship in the past, even if Connor wasn’t sure exactly it was, or at least not in a way he could say definitively to Evan. 

That last fact is bullshit. It’s not even a fact. 

Evan prefers something he can actually rely on, not some vague whatever. 

Fact: Connor and Miguel are having dinner right now, catching up properly without Evan. 

Fact: Evan is about to meet one of Heidi’s oldest friends, so he needs to fucking focus. 

When they get to the restaurant, there’s a woman waiting outside who immediately goes to hug Heidi. She’s got short red hair and is wearing a pantsuit that’s somehow different to the ones that Heidi wears to work. Less… feminine, somehow. 

“It has been far too long,” says Heidi, grinning from ear to ear. She pulls away and puts an arm around Evan’s shoulder. “Laurel, this is Evan. Evan, this is Laurel.”

“Nice to meet you,” Evan says, focusing every ounce of energy on not fucking stuttering this time. 

“It’s so nice to meet you,” says Laurel, and her smile is just as big as Heidi’s. “Heidi has told me all about you.” Her grin gets a little teasing. “Pretty impressive, I’ve got to say. There aren’t many car thieves out there who can’t drive.”

“I’ll be t-taking driver’s ed this semester,” Evan says stupidly. 

Laurel laughs. “Then there’ll be no stopping you.”

“P-part of my p-plan,” Evan jokes weakly. “Gonna be a c-criminal mastermind.”

Laurel laughs even harder, then looks at Heidi. “Kid’s got ambition,” she says cheerily. “I like it. He’ll fit right in here in D.C.” 

Heidi rolls her eyes, like she’s annoyed, but she’s smiling really big. 

“Come on,” Laurel says “Let’s get inside, it’s cold as balls out here.”

“What would you know about balls, Laurel?” Heidi jokes as they head into the building. Evan looks at her questioningly. Heidi looks like she’s about to explain but Laurel jumps in. 

“Heidi’s giving me a hard time because I’m a huge dyke,” she says cheerfully. “Despite my best efforts, Heidi here refuses to see the light and join me on the sapphic side of things.”

Evan stares for a moment. 

That’s. 

Okay. 

He wasn’t expecting that. 

“Cool,” he says, for lack of anything else to say, and Laurel laughs. 

“It is indeed cool,” she says, and that appears to be the end of the conversation. 

The restaurant is kind of fancy, but not too fancy. Nowhere near as ridiculous as the one in the hotel. There are kosher items marked on the menu, which Laurel points out to Heidi. When Heidi says that Evan’s Jewish, too, Laurel smiles really wide. 

“Awesome,” she says, and sounds like she means it. “I know Heidi’s been stuck with all the west coast WASPs for years, it’s good for her to have someone who shares her faith.” She looks at Heidi, kind of pointedly. “There’s a big Jewish community here, you know.”

“So you keep reminding me,” Heidi replies fondly. She looks at Evan, then back at Laurel. “How about you explain your big fancy political reporter job to my kid here, huh?”

Evan feels his face flush a little at Heidi so casually calling him her kid. 

Laurel launches into an animated rundown of what her job entails. Evan’s never really followed politics, but gets caught up in Laurel’s enthusiasm pretty quickly. There’s apparently a senator from Illinois who’s expected to announce a bid for a presidential campaign in the next month or so who she’s hoping to eventually follow on the campaign trail. 

“He’s doing some really interesting things with social media,” Laurel says, and Evan doesn’t know a fucking thing about social media but Laurel’s enthusiasm is catching and he finds himself asking a lot of questions. 

Heidi joins in with the conversation, too, but mostly she just seems really happy to see Evan and Laurel getting along. She keeps looking between them with this soft expression on her face, and it makes something in Evan’s chest feel warm. 

He just…

Heidi is so great. 

She has bent over backward, trying to make him feel safe. Done everything she can to look after him. She didn’t owe him anything, still doesn’t, but she stepped up and wanted to care for him in a way that no one ever has. 

No one has ever  _ wanted  _ to take care of Evan. Not since his mom. 

People have been stuck with him, sure, but they’ve always found a way to get rid of him. 

Heidi doesn’t have to care about him, but somehow she does. 

She really, really fucking cares. 

He loves that. 

He…

He loves Heidi, he realizes with a start. He thinks she’s amazing. Wonderful. The most incredibly kind, generous, intelligent, funny and passionate person. 

There is no way he deserves someone like her giving a fuck about him, but somehow she does. 

He loves her. 

Loves her the way he loved his mom. 

That’s…

It’s hard to breathe, all of a sudden, and Heidi’s looking at him with concern. He takes a sip of his water then smiles at her, doing his best to keep from seeming like he’s totally freaking out here. 

There’s no real chill way to say what's on his mind. 

_ Don’t be afraid of big emotions, _ the speaker at the workshop had said. 

He’s… trying not to be. 

It’s hard, though, when he’s afraid of everything. 

Weirdly, he’s afraid of having left Connor alone with Miguel. 

Which makes no fucking sense. Doesn’t even come close to making sense. They used to be roommates, it’s not like they haven’t been alone together before. 

Fuck. Probably they  _ prefer  _ it when they’re alone together. 

Connor couldn’t agree fast enough when Miguel suggested the two of them grab dinner instead of joining Evan and Heidi. He’s probably been waiting for Evan to leave them alone since Miguel first arrived. 

_ Way to go, asshole,  _ the voice in his head mocks him.  _ The last thing Connor’s going to want is you hanging around when the guy he was fucking is right there.  _

Evan’s not stupid. Connor, like, slept with Reg after knowing him for five seconds. Of course he slept with Miguel. 

Connor’s not totally fucked up about sex like Evan is, he can sleep with whoever he likes. 

Evan just… doesn’t want Connor to get hurt. 

And he’s been hurt by this Miguel kid before. 

He’s got every reason to be worried. Concerned. Cautious. 

He’s not jealous. 

And if he is, it’s not like… 

He’s jealous that Connor can do this. Can be vulnerable with someone. Is brave enough to try. 

That Connor’s normal. 

Not a fake and a fraud and a liar like Evan. 

It’s a different kind of jealousy. 

Obviously. 

* * *

Evan goes to the bathroom just after they put in orders for dessert and Laurel immediately turns to Heidi. 

“Okay, so Evan is great,” she says with a smile. 

Heidi feels her cheeks color. She can’t stop herself from grinning back. “He is, isn’t he?”

Laurel nods. “Gotta admit,” she says bluntly, “I thought you were an idiot when you told me you were taking in some kid you were defending for car theft.”

“I know you did,” Heidi says with a laugh. “You told me. Multiple times.”

“I still think you’re an idiot,” Laurel says fondly. “But I have to admit that it worked out. That’s one smart kid. And clearly, he thinks the absolute world of you.”

“You think?” 

Laurel nods again. “Hell yeah. He looks at you like the sun shines out of your ass.”

“We get along really well,” Heidi tells Laurel. “And he’s come a long way since we first met? He’s top of his class at school, and he got invited to this writing workshop… he had a 2.2 GPA at his last school, Laurel. Barely showed up. He’s working really, really hard at Harbor and it’s just so great to see him succeed.”

Words don’t express how good it is to be able to talk to someone in person about this. To not have to hide, not have to pretend that Evan’s her nephew when it’s becoming more and more clear to Heidi that she sees him as… so much more. 

_ So  _ much more. 

“He’s working hard, sure,” Laurel agrees. “But you have to realize that he can only focus on working hard because he knows that he’s safe now.” Her expression grows somber. “You told me about his dad, Heidi. You providing him an environment where he knows he’s safe? That’s huge. That’s what’s making the difference for him.” 

“I hope so,” Heidi says. She sighs. “I really hope so.”

Laurel bites her lip. “You’re the thing keeping him safe,” she says carefully. “You could keep him safe here, you know.”

Heidi sighs. “Still trying to convince me to move back here, huh?”

“I worry about you all alone in California.”

“I’m not alone,” says Heidi. “I have Evan.”

Laurel nods. “You do. And everyone thinks he’s your nephew.” 

Heidi wants to argue but Evan returns at the same time as their desserts arrive, effectively cutting the conversation short. 

They keep talking over dessert. Evan tells them about the writing workshop so far, this small smile on his face as he talks about the keynote speakers from the day, and Heidi’s heart is bursting for this kid, this kid who’s smart and hard-working, who’s been dealt the worst hand she can imagine but still takes the time to care about people. Who tries his hardest to be better. 

She’s so glad she knows him. 

When they finish their meal, Laurel gives them both huge hugs before Evan and Heidi get into a cab. Evan seems a little taken aback but smiles politely and tells Laurel it was nice to meet her. He sounds like he means it. 

He’s quiet on the ride back to the hotel. 

Heidi tries not to take it personally. He’s probably exhausted. 

“I’m glad you got to meet Laurel,” she says after a while. “Did I tell you she was my maid of honor when David and I got married?”

“You didn’t,” says Evan, looking at her with a small smile. “That’s cool. That you’ve been friends for so long.”

“Some people you just never get rid of,” she says fondly. 

Something strange passes by Evan’s face for a split second. It’s gone so quickly Heidi almost thinks she imagined it. 

But not quite.

When they get back to the hotel, Evan doesn’t seem like he wants to go just yet. “I’ll walk you to your room,” he offers, and Heidi agrees, even though it’s literally down the hall from the room he’s sharing with Connor. He comes in for a bit and looks around. It’s a suite, with a sofa in the living area, which Evan seems to notice and take in with some level of almost relief. 

“So,” Heidi says, trying to figure out how to not be weird about this. “Miguel and Connor seem pleased to see each other.”

She knows that there was a kid at Hanover who got Connor in trouble, but Larry hadn’t exactly gone into detail. There’s no real subtle way to ask if it was this Miguel kid. 

She doesn’t want to assume, though. Especially given that this kid is Hispanic. That kind of racist bullshit isn’t something she wants to get into.

Evan nods. Looks a little sad. “I m-mean, y-yeah,” he says. “They, uh… th-they were g-good friends? I th-think Connor missed him.”

Heidi smiles sympathetically. “Must be weird for you,” she says gently. “Did you know that Miguel was going to be here?”

Evan shakes his head. “N-no. Neither d-did Connor.” He smiles a little weakly. “B-but I’m g-glad? Connor had… Christmas was h-hard and he deserves to see his friend.”

Heidi nods. She doesn’t disagree.

This Miguel kid seems polite and respectful. It seems that Connor talked about David with Miguel, talked about it enough that he could make the connection on meeting Heidi. 

That’s a good thing, right? 

Connor deserves friends. People he can trust. 

Not that Evan’s not a good friend for him, but sometimes Heidi worries, because Connor has so many struggles of his own. 

She thinks about how Evan broke down after spending all night up worrying about Connor. About everything he’s done to try to help Connor with his eating. 

Connor deserves to have more people in his corner than just Evan. 

And Evan deserves a chance to step back a little, perhaps. Let someone else share that load. 

Heidi just hopes that it all works out for them. 

* * *

“So, what’s the deal with that kid, anyway?” Miguel asks when Evan leaves for dinner with Heidi and her friend from D.C. Connor kind of feels like a shithead for bailing because he knows Evan’s nervous about meeting this Laurel lady, but he was obviously only invited out of obligation. It’s better that he doesn’t go. 

To answer M’s question, Connor gives him a shrug. Evan hasn’t got a deal. He’s just Evan. 

“Your next-door neighbor’s his aunt?” M presses, sounding almost annoyed. “Didn’t you say she was basically  _ your  _ aunt or whatever? You were all fucked up about her husband dying last year.”

Connor flinches. He can’t look Miguel in the eye for a moment. He had been all fucked up about David dying but… M doesn’t have to say it like that. Like it didn’t matter. It takes him a second to find his voice. “Yeah, Evan’s living with Heidi. Has been since the beginning of the school year.”

M lets out this delighted laugh. “So he’s the boy next door? That’s fucking adorable, oh my god.”

Connor feels his face getting hot. 

Miguel rolls his eyes and smiles stupidly at Connor in a way that brings out his dimples. “Very wholesome and all-American of you, Murphy, crushing on the boy next door.”

“It’s not like that,” Connor mumbles, even though it is absolutely one hundred percent exactly like that. “We’re just friends,” Connor tries to add, like it’ll cover it. “He’s… nice. Not like the other assholes at Harbor.”

M arches his eyebrows up significantly. “Something tells me the rich kids you go to school with wouldn’t exactly be lining up to make friends with Evan,” he says. He sounds dismissive and irritated somehow and Connor thinks somehow  _ he’s  _ fucked up here by being the guy who is friends with Evan. 

“People are assholes,” Connor says, because he can’t figure out how he stepped in it but there’s always fucking  _ something  _ with Miguel. You blink and suddenly he’s calling you out for doing something ableist or whatever. Connor appreciates it because like, he tries to be good about shit but it doesn’t always come naturally, but sometimes he thinks M takes a lot of pleasure in embarrassing people when he calls them out. 

M grins at Connor, reaching out to gently punch his shoulder. “Well, good thing for Evan you’re a fucking humanitarian then, isn’t it?” 

Connor hates that. Miguel used to accuse him of that all the time just for hanging out with him. Called him Angelina Jolie and asked if he was going to amass a collection of underprivileged babies from every continent. He’d do it whenever Connor paid for shit too, which Connor found especially annoying because it wasn’t exactly like M was throwing his own cash down to pitch in. 

“Can we not talk about Evan?” Connor says, because he doesn’t want to be discussing Evan right now. He wants to know where the hell Miguel has been for the last six months or so. He wants to know, even though he’s sort of terrified of the answer. He still wants to know. 

“Sure,” says M casually. He throws his arm over Connor’s shoulder. Fixes him with a big smile, one that shows off his dimples. 

He always was a touchy dude. Which was why it kind of used to fuck with Connor’s head that he wasn’t really into cuddling with Connor post-sex. He’d be all over him during. He’d hang off of Connor in the halls, throw his arms around him then they sat together in the library. But he never wanted to cuddle after when they were coming down. 

It’s weird. That May to here now. 

Like he never left. Or Connor never left. They just picked back up exactly where they’d left off. 

It weirds Connor out. 

M insists they go for dinner at some pizza place nearby and then complains a lot about how greasy the pizza is. He wastes like three paper napkins blotting up the grease. 

Connor gets one slice with spinach and cherry tomatoes and ends up cutting it with a fork and knife into tiny, bite-sized pieces and waiting until it’s almost cold before he can manage to eat it. He just can’t fuck with gooey, oozing cheese. 

Miguel watches Connor as he slowly chews and swallows his first few bites. It’s not bad, the pizza, Connor thinks. Tomatoes and spinach are good for you. There’s calcium in cheese. 

“Dude,” M says, his eyebrows traveling up to his hairline. 

Connor feels his face heat up. He tries to pick up his pizza-eating pace. 

“I just think it’s fucking hilarious,” M says suddenly, “That the most impatient person I know is the world’s slowest fucking eater.” 

Connor’s face is definitely too hot now. He stares down at his half-finished slice of pizza. “I…”

“Just, it’s funny? Like you can’t wait for a text but you’re, like, a tortoise eating.”

Connor takes another bite and keeps quiet, unsure what he can even say. 

“Then again, maybe your patience has grown now that your  _ bestie  _ takes ten minutes to manage a sentence.” He takes a slurp of some water. “And yet somehow, dude does not seem to be able to shut up. Like, Jesus, the way he was going on and on after the keynote on emotions and how to use them in both fiction and nonfiction? Like bro, we get it, your mommy and daddy probably didn’t hug you enough, relax.”

Connor swallows uncomfortably, his cheeks burning on Evan’s behalf now. Worst thing is Miguel’s probably right about Evan’s parents. Lord knows his dad’s a real piece of shit, and since his mom died when he was little, the poor guy probably didn’t get enough hugs. 

“Come on dude,” Connor says. “He’s just like. Excited to be here. It’s kind of a big deal.” 

Miguel rolls his eyes. “I’d have thought nationally renowned writing workshops were a weekly thing at your fancy private school.”

Connor tries to smile. “Yeah, because Hanover’s really struggling these days, what will all of the Ivy League guest speakers and that trip to Paris for ‘experiential learning’ you took last fall.” 

M goes a bit red. “Hey, that was optional.”

“Yeah, but I know you went,” Connor says, rolling his eyes. “I know you think it fucks up your street cred to go to some fancy boarding school in New Hampshire, but that’s your fucking reality man. You gotta own it, because nobody here’s impressed by you ragging on opportunities.” 

M’s eyes flash. He reaches out and steals a bite of Connor’s pizza, perfectly cut into a small piece. He chews thoughtfully and then says, “You really ought to be careful with cherry tomatoes. You eat too many and you’ll end up with acid reflux or, like, joint pain and whatever.” 

Connor sets down his fork. 

He has been eating a lot of tomatoes lately. 

Fuck. 

“Just looking out for ya,” Miguel says with a smile that shows off his dimples. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "Unsafe Safe" by The Hush Sound.


	28. Why Don’t You Show Me The Little Bit Of Spine You’ve Been Saving For His Mattress?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In D.C. Evan makes a new friend while Heidi and Connor reconnect with old ones.

Evan doesn’t sleep well the first night of the workshop. 

He just… keeps waking up and kind of freaking out because he’s somewhere unfamiliar, somewhere he doesn’t know. 

He manages to freak out quietly, though. 

Doesn’t wake Connor. 

Even though he suspects that Connor’s not really sleeping, either. 

It must be a bit of a mindfuck, having Miguel showing up out of the blue. It must be weird and strange, especially since the guy is, like, all over Connor after not talking to him for months. 

Evan thinks Miguel is an asshole. 

There’s no doubt about it. He’s spent an afternoon with the guy and has decided that his initial impressions were absolutely correct. 

He might need to, like, keep his distance a little if he wants to avoid punching the guy in the face before the workshop is over, now that he thinks about it. There’s something about the guy that gets under his skin. 

It’s not because he’s all over Connor. Obviously. That’s just… 

That’s whatever. 

It’s because he’s got a fucking huge chip on his shoulder about everything. And yeah, Evan gets that the guy’s had a tough life. Gets that he’s from a rough part of New York, that he’s a minority, that he doesn’t come from privilege like Connor does. 

But it doesn’t mean he has to constantly make snarky comments about it. 

Doesn’t mean he has to say shit about how Connor’s problems aren’t real.

That’s where it comes from. Connor’s insistence that he doesn’t have real problems.

It comes from this fucker.

Evan could punch him for it. Punch him for getting in Connor’s head like that.

Part of him could punch Connor for  _ letting  _ Miguel get in his head. 

It pisses Evan off, more than a little, that Miguel just assumes he grew up like Connor did. Just assumes that he’s rich and white and wealthy. 

Not that he’s going to tell this guy who he really is. 

He’s not worth it. 

Still, a part of him wants to, when Miguel’s talking about how $200 is ‘no big deal for someone like you’. Wants to tell him that actually, $200  _ is  _ a fucking big deal. That every time Heidi gives him money, he feels weird about it, but he takes it anyway and hides most of it away in a bag that he’s got packed all the time so he can make a quick break for it the minute his luck runs out. 

Evan wonders what Miguel would think of  _ that. _

Probably find something else to give him hell about. 

Like his fucking stutter, which is just getting worse by the day. 

_ “Take your time. You got this.” _

Asshole. 

Fucking asshole. 

Evan thinks about punching Miguel a lot as he gets ready for the day. Thinks about how satisfying it would be to see the look on the kids face as blood pours out of his nose. Wonders how quickly he’d go down. 

He’d probably get right back up again, though. Something tells Evan that Miguel’s a scrappy fucker. 

If he gets through this workshop without getting into a fight, he should be nominated for fucking sainthood. 

Even though he’s Jewish. 

Connor’s still asleep or at least pretending to be, and it’s earlier than they need to be at the workshop, so Evan leaves a note next to his bed and heads to Heidi’s room. He knows she’ll be up. 

He’s right. She’s up and dressed and smiles when she sees him. 

“Hey honey,” she says happily. “Sleep okay?”

Evan shrugs. “I mean, it’s a l-little weird?” he tries to explain. “Being somewhere new?”

She nods sympathetically. “It is. I never sleep well in hotels.” She smiles at him again. “Connor still asleep?”

Evan nods. “Yeah.” 

Heidi nods. “Okay,” she says after a moment. “Let’s let him rest a bit. We had an early start yesterday.”

“That’s true,” Evan says. He’s starting to feel less tense, just by being around Heidi. 

“Come on,” says Heidi, putting her arm around Evan’s shoulder gently. “Let’s hit the breakfast buffet. See how much coffee we can drink before we start totally bouncing off the walls, what do you say?”

It sounds… perfect, actually. 

They head down to the breakfast buffet, which is different to the restaurant where they tried and failed to have lunch yesterday, to Evan’s surprise. He really isn’t used to fancy hotels. He’s never stayed in one before this trip and it’s a little overwhelming. 

A lot overwhelming. 

_ “Guess it’s no big deal for someone like you.” _

Fuck. It’s bad enough that Evan has to deal with Miguel in  _ person _ , now he’s haunting his  _ brain _ , too. 

The breakfast buffet has lots of fruit and pastries and there’s a chef there who’ll cook eggs to your liking, which is… completely insane. Evan orders poached eggs because he’s never once in his life eaten a poached egg and he’s curious to find out what it’s actually like. 

Turns out the yolk is runny in a poached egg. It’s different, but he likes it. 

He and Heidi chat casually over breakfast. Heidi talks about a case she’s working on that centers around immigration, which is actually really interesting. Evan finds himself asking lots of questions, wanting to know more. 

“I think it’s really cool,” he says after a while. “What you do. Helping people who need it.”

Heidi gives him this brilliant smile. “Yeah?”

Evan nods. “Yeah.” He swallows. “N-not everyone would do that, you know? It’s… I just think you’re so awesome?”

Heidi blinks. Her cheeks are red and she looks a little overwhelmed, but she’s smiling really big. 

“Right back at you, kid.”

“Morning!” says a familiar voice. Evan turns to see Miguel approaching and fights to keep himself from… swearing or frowning or just punching the guy. He’s in jeans and a hoodie and a band shirt and Evan immediately regrets the polo shirt and khakis. 

Why didn’t he, like, try to actually fucking  _ think  _ about shit like this when he packed? 

What the fuck is  _ wrong  _ with him?

“Morning Miguel,” says Heidi with a friendly smile. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did, Heidi, thank you for asking.” He fixes Evan with a smile that doesn’t feel quite real. “Murphy not up yet?”

“H-h-he’s asleep,” Evan manages to stammer out. “I th-th-th-think h-h-h-he’s t-tired?”

Miguel smiles. “Of course he is,” he says with a slight roll of his eyes. 

Heidi looks at her watch. “We should make sure he gets up,” she says, frowning a little. “Don’t want him to miss the workshop.”

“You’re in the middle of breakfast,” Miguel says. “I can go wake him up?”

Evan wants very badly to say no. 

To tell this guy to fuck right off. 

But Heidi’s here and she’s thanking him and he can’t just, like, refuse. 

“Okay,” Evan mumbles. He pulls the key to their hotel room out of his pocket. Hands it to Miguel. “H-h-h-h-here you g-go.”

“Thanks, dude,” says Miguel with a sunny smile. “Enjoy the rest of your meal.”

With that, he’s gone.

Heidi looks at Evan, something a little concerned in her eyes. “You okay, sweetheart?”

Evan tries to smile. “F-fine,” he says. 

Heidi doesn’t look convinced but thankfully doesn’t argue. 

He’s got no idea how he’d explain how he’s feeling if she asked. 

Connor and Miguel show up just before the first keynote speaker starts. Evan sees them slinking in the back. He’s already found a seat near the front, armed with his notepad and pen because he’s determined he’s going to get as much out of this as he can. 

Determined he’s not going to let this opportunity slip by. 

The guy he’s sitting next to is quiet, which suits Evan fine. He doesn’t talk to the guy on the other side of him, either, so Evan thinks that perhaps he’s here alone, too. 

The first keynote speaker is… really fucking interesting. He’s talking about authenticity in fiction writing. A lot of what he says is like a knife to the heart. Evan’s hand cramps taking notes. 

The kid next to him seems to be having a similar problem. Doesn’t seem to be as fast a writer as Evan. Evan catches him frowning a few times like he’s missed something he thought might be useful. 

When they break after the speaker, he turns to the kid. 

“Hey,” he says, as slowly and carefully as he can, trying to hide the stutter. “If y-you wanted to exchange notes that c-could be useful? W-we were both w-writing a lot, so…”

The kid looks at him for a moment, staring at him. Evan’s about to apologize for bothering him when his face breaks into a shy smile. “That would be great?” he says, and his voice is quiet and soft. “There was a lot that was really cool and I didn’t manage to write it all down.”

“It was r-really cool, wasn’t it?” Evan says, and he can’t help but smile back. “I-I’ve never b-been to something like this before, it’s… s-so cool.”

The kid smiles even bigger. “It really is,” he agrees. “And it’s really nice that there are other people here who like writing?” His cheeks color. “Not that I’ve talked to anyone. I’m… not so great with talking.”

Evan looks at him. Laughs a little. “Me neither,” he confesses. “Ob-obviously.”

“I’m Liam,” the guy says, extending his hand. “Liam Henson.”

Evan blinks. “Evan Hansen,” he replies with a smile.

Liam laughs a little. “Trippy.” He smiles. “So where are you from?”

“California,” Evan replies. “I live in…” He trails off. Tries to figure out what to say. “I live in Orange County.”

“Orange County, huh?” says Liam, tilting his head a little. “Did you grow up there?”

Evan shakes his head. “No,” he admits. “I grew up in…”

He should say Seattle. 

He should stick with the story, with the lie. 

But for some reason, he doesn’t want to. He really doesn’t want to. 

Liam’s got this kind of awkward vibe but a round friendly-looking face, and Evan’s gut feeling about him is that he’s… harmless. 

That he’s not going to hurt him. 

Evan is miles and miles away from Newport and the lie he has to live there. There are a handful of kids from Harbor here, sure, but Liam doesn’t seem like the type to gossip. Now that he thinks about it, Evan remembers seeing this kid the day before, kind of hanging around the edges of the room like he’s trying to disappear into the wallpaper. 

Liam’s not about to spill Evan’s secrets to the entire world. 

Maybe Evan can afford to be authentic, like the speaker talked about, for once in his life. 

“I grew up in Chino,” he says quietly. “It’s, uh, about an hour or so away from Newport, where I live now. But it’s like a whole other universe.”

Liam looks at him, clearly interested. “What do you mean?”

Evan bites his lip. 

He doesn’t have to lie to this kid he’ll never see again. 

Doesn’t have to hide. 

“Where I’m from is kind of… rough?” he says slowly. It’s weird how his voice is steady when he’s telling the truth. “So Newport is, like… super weird. Everyone is just… they have so much money, it’s so damn weird?”

“How’d you end up in Newport?” Liam asks, clearly interested. 

“Not to get all, like, full-on life story with you,” says Evan with a small smile, “but it was… kind of insane? I was stupid and helped my dad’s girlfriend’s kid steal a car. Got arrested. Got kicked out of the house.”

“Shit,” says Liam, his eyes widening. “I’m sorry, man.”

“It kinda worked out for me,” Evan continues, “because I got assigned a really awesome public defender. And she kinda… she took me in. She’s my legal guardian now? So I’m, like, living in Newport with all these rich kids, feeling like a total fraud, it’s so fucking weird.”

Evan has no idea why he’s spilling all of this to a kid he just met. 

None at all. 

But Liam’s got a kind face and he seems kind of lonely and Evan’s lonely, too. 

And the person he counts on to make him feel less alone is standing in a corner talking to his old roommate who may or may not be his boyfriend, so…

He’ll overshare with a kind-looking stranger. 

That’s how pathetic he is. 

“That’s intense,” says Liam, his eyes wide. His cheeks color a little. “I’m local,” he says, a little lamely. “I mean, kind of? We live in Maryland but I go to a private school here in D.C. My parents are both lawyers and my dad wants to run for Senate and it’s… they’re both kind of intense?” He shrugs. “It’s not the same, but… I understand feeling like a fraud.” He smiles a little. “I kind of think maybe everyone does?”

“Maybe,” says Evan, feeling this rush of relief. He laughs a little. “Okay this is totally weird but everyone in Newport thinks I’m Heidi’s nephew? From Seattle? So you’re the first person I’ve been, like, properly honest with in months.”

Liam’s eyes widen a little. He bites his lip. “That must be hard,” he says, something earnest in his expression. He bites his lip again. Frowns a little. “No offense, but… what made you tell me this?”

“I don’t know,” Evan says, shrugging a little helplessly. “I don’t, really, I just…” He shrugs again. “I’ll probably never see you again? And… I don’t know. They kept talking about authenticity and I just… I feel a little bit like I’m losing myself. Like I don’t know who I am.”

He wants to take the words back the minute he’s said them. 

Liam doesn’t look weirded out, though. He just looks kind of thoughtful. 

“I have no idea who I am,” Liam confesses. “I know who my parents want me to be? And I know that I’m… not that. But I don’t know who I am.” He shrugs. His cheeks color. “Part of me is like… I’m sixteen? It’s okay not to know things? But, like…” He shrugs again. Looks around the room. “Other people our age seem to have figured it out and I’m just… playing catch up. Completely lost.”

Evan blinks. 

It’s like this kid is reading his fucking mind. 

“I feel like that all the time.”

Liam smiles. “Oh, thank fuck. It’s not just me.”

Evan laughs. Genuinely laughs. 

This kid’s alright. 

Maybe authenticity isn’t so scary, after all. 

* * *

M has to go to dinner with the other Hanover kids because Burns has been bitching about him not participating in “group reflection” but he tells Connor he’ll come by his room later that night. 

Connor hasn’t seen much of Evan today. He’s been a little caught up but he feels horribly guilty when they get paired off for a writing exercise on Thursday afternoon and Evan gets stuck with some random guy. 

Evan’s not comfortable around strangers. Connor should have been keeping an eye on him. Fuck. 

He finds Evan already back in their room after the workshop ends for the day. He’s texting someone. Connor doesn’t know who but decides not to ask in case the answer is Zoe or something. 

“Hey man,” Connor says, throwing himself on his bed. 

“Hey,” Evan says. He smiles at Connor but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Where’s Miguel?”

Connor shrugs. “Had to go to some dinner thing? With school?”

Evan nods. “You kn-know anyone else here from there?”

Connor nods. He knows most of them. Not that he was friends with any of them but it’s a small school. He knows probably everyone. He sighs.

Because something’s bugging him. 

Evan seems to. Not really like M very much and it’s bugging Connor. 

“So. Why do you hate Miguel?” Connor hears himself asking, staring at the ceiling. 

“What?” Evan says. “Who s-s-said that?”

“Well, you didn’t come sit with us at lunch?” Connor mumbles. 

“Oh,” Evan says with a frown. “I uh. Kinda figured you-you wanted to catch up? With-without me?”

Connor frowns. “I know he’s kinda…”

“Intense?” Evan says. He flinches. 

“Yeah,” Connor says. “But he’s a good dude. Once you get to know him and whatever.”

“Sure,” Evan says with a shrug. “I mean. He-he’s your b-b-best friend or whatever.” 

Connor blinks a few times. “You’re my best friend,” he says honestly. “You are.” He pushes a hand through his hair. “I dunno what he and I are…” 

Evan nods. “Okay.”

They end up telling Heidi all about the authenticity speaker at dinner. Explaining the different free writes they did, the exercises about creating a specific voice. 

Heidi smiles and asks thoughtful questions and Evan looks at her like she put the stars in the sky. He’s so excited to answer her questions and honestly, Connor thinks it’s damn cute. That they have each other. That Heidi’s finally a mom and Evan finally someone’s kid. 

Heidi apologizes after dinner because she has some work emails to go through. Connor and Evan head back to their room, talking all about how there had been a panel with some authors in the afternoon where they talked a lot about authorial intent. 

Connor and Evan keep talking over each other in their excitement over shared opinions. “Yes! Exactly that!”

It makes Connor’s heart warm. 

After about twenty minutes, Miguel arrives outside the room with a smile. He’s already been chewing on something on his way over, Connor can tell, and he practically throws himself on the bed when he gets inside the room. “So we all agree that the panel on intentionality was bullshit today right?”

Connor finds himself swallowing awkwardly. “I thought it was interesting,” he says vaguely. 

But Evan’s frowning. “B-Bullshit how?”

M’s eyes flash. “Well. Just this whole ‘death of the author’ shit that everyone was going on and on about. Like. It’s not  _ real. _ ”

Evan frowns deeper. “I-I-I m-mean it’s real. We-we all talked about it today.”

M rolls his eyes. “Yeah no shit, but I meant as a framework it’s fucking garbage.”

Evan shoots Connor a look. “I m-mean, I dunno.”

“Like there’s no way to separate out the writing from the person who wrote it,” Miguel goes on. “There’s just no way.” He throws an arm around Connor. “Am I right Murphy?”

Connor clears his throat. “I think there are valid points on both sides,” he says diplomatically. 

Evan looks kind of annoyed. He chews his lip. “B-b-but let’s say that a-a p-p-piece of writing is, like, super well-written and-and-and thought-provoking on its own? C-c-can you r-really say it c-can’t be read and judged on-on-on it’s… on it’s own m-merits?” He says. 

“Yes,” M says. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Without an understanding of  _ who  _ is behind the words, they have  _ no  _ meaning.”

“So, what, every author h-h-h-has to include a-a comp-comprehensive biography in order for their work to-to be valid?” Evan says, looking super annoyed. 

M rolls his eyes. “Obviously not.”

“Then what are you-?”

“Just that you can’t read anything without  _ context.  _ Without context, it’s just words.”

Evan opens his mouth but can’t seem to get the words out. “But that’s-that’s not… y-y-you can’t just-”

Connor clears his throat. “I think what Evan’s trying to say is-”

“Oh, get off your white horse, Murphy, let the man speak for himself,” Miguel says. 

Then he leans in and presses a kiss to Connor’s cheek. 

And he thinks his brain short circuits because. 

M’s never kissed him in front of anyone before. He just kissed him  _ in front of Evan.  _ He’s never. They were always very private about that kind of stuff. 

What. 

What. 

Evan’s face has gone red. He starts trying to sputter out a defense of writing existing to be interpreted and saying stuff about how it’s a discredit to the audience if they’re not allowed to process and read the work however it makes sense to them but he’s struggling and stuttering  _ a lot  _ and he seems super pissed and he’s not totally making sense even though Connor knows precisely what he means. 

“Let’s just agree to disagree then,” Miguel says shortly. “Save us all some time.”

Connor doesn’t really like that. He opens his mouth to come to Evan’s defense a little, because not letting him get a chance to respond is sort of depriving Evan of being able to offer context but then M kisses Connor full on the mouth. 

Rendering him totally speechless. 

What. The. Fuck. 

Evan seems similarly speechless. He suddenly stands up and announces he’s going to get a bottle of water and leaves the room. 

Miguel chuckles. “Straight boys are so fragile.”

“That wasn’t like… you… why’d you do that?” Connor asks stupidly. 

Miguel just kisses him again. “Don’t be stupid Murphy,” he says when they break apart. 

Connor doesn’t seem to know how to quit being stupid. 

* * *

Evan wakes up early on Friday. Stupidly early, even though Miguel was in their hotel room until very early in the morning, all cuddled up with Connor on his bed. 

He just hadn’t fucking  _ left _ , despite Evan’s hints that they should get some sleep. 

Evan had given up just before midnight. Found an eye mask and earplugs in the drawer beside his bed and put them on in a desperate attempt to block out what was happening, to ignore whatever the fuck it was Miguel and Connor were doing. 

He hadn’t really slept. Not being able to see or hear kind of freaked him out. Made him incredibly nervous, incredibly anxious. But it was better than the alternative, which was listening to Connor and Miguel talk and kiss and… whatever. 

Evan finally cracked just before two and just… hid in the bathroom for a while. Sat against the door, trying to get his breathing under control, trying to stop his heart from racing far, far, far too quickly. 

When he got out of the bathroom, it was nearly three and Miguel was finally gone. 

And Connor was sound asleep, lightly snoring. 

So now it’s six am and the workshop doesn’t start until nine and Evan’s awake. Evan hasn’t really slept. He’s exhausted and drained and he feels raw and unsettled and it’s all just far, far too much. 

He gets up. Showers. Gets dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, trying his hardest to not dress like a total dork today. Realizes it’s cold and he only brought sweaters, not hoodies, so he puts on a sweater and looks at his reflection in the mirror and hates how ridiculous he looks. 

Connor’s still asleep when he leaves the hotel room just after seven. Evan thinks about going to Heidi’s room but decides instead to just go down and get some breakfast. He needs a bit of space to himself. A bit of time to just… breathe. 

He passes through the lobby and is surprised to see Liam there, looking a little worse for wear. He looks a little bleary-eyed, like he’s not quite awake yet, but smiles when he sees Evan.

“Hey,” says Evan, a little confused. “How come you’re here so early?”

Liam looks a little sheepish. “My dad had a super early meeting in D.C,” he explains. “So he dropped me off early.” He puts his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “He said I should get breakfast at the hotel and gave me some money for it. Is that where you’re headed?”

“Yeah,” says Evan, smiling a little. 

Maybe he could have some space with Liam there.

They head to the breakfast buffet and pile their plates up with food. Both of them order eggs, and Liam has bacon with his. He’s wincing a little, kind of favoring his left arm, and Evan wants to ask if he’s okay but also doesn’t want to offend him. 

When they sit down to eat, Liam pulls out an orange pill bottle from his bag, shakes out a pill and takes it with some orange juice. He sees Evan watches and kind of smiles weakly. Clears his throat. 

“I, uh, I have this condition?” he says, his voice quiet and a little hesitant. “It’s called Chronic Regional Pain Syndrome. I got it after breaking my arm when I was 12. It’s kind of…” His jaw shifts a little. “So basically I’m just… always in pain? It comes and goes, but when it’s bad it’s… really, really bad. Kind of like my arm’s on fire.”

Evan feels this stabbing sensation in his chest. “I’m so sorry,” he says, and he genuinely means it. “That sounds awful.”

Liam shrugs, clearly embarrassed. “I mean, it’s not great? I kind of just… manage it, I guess.” He smiles a little wryly. “It means I’m basically a walking pharmacy, so… if you get a headache or whatever, I’m your guy.”

“The medication helps?” Evan asks. 

Liam shrugs again. “It depends. On the day. How bad it is.” He looks at his arm with disdain. “It’s being kind of a dick today, let me tell you.” He winces. “I tend to feel worse if I haven’t slept well.”

Evan nods. “Makes sense.”

Liam looks at him intently. “Speaking of not having slept well, you look exhausted,” he says matter-of-factly. “Got a snoring roommate?”

“No,” Evan says, trying to fight down the ever-present annoyance. “My roommate has a friend in our room who didn’t fucking leave until 3am.”

Liam raises his eyebrows. “That sucks,” he says. It looks like he’s got more to say on the matter but thankfully, he doesn’t. 

The two of them take their time eating and talk about the workshop so far. They’d had a chance to read each other’s work yesterday and Evan had genuinely enjoyed Liam’s writing. He tells Liam that, and Liam smiles brightly, then launches into a discussion about the panel on intentionality. 

Evan’s relieved to note that Liam actually fucking agrees with him. That he can actually get his argument out with Liam because Liam doesn’t make him super fucking uncomfortable. 

“Hansen!” calls out a familiar voice. Evan looks over to see Miguel and Connor heading over. Connor looks exhausted, but Miguel’s bursting with energy, even though he didn’t leave their hotel room until fucking 3am. “Sleep well?” asks Miguel, with this obnoxious grin that Evan wants to punch right off his face. 

“K-k-kinda,” Evan manages to choke out. He can feel his chest tighten, his hands sweat, his heartbeat too fast. Liam looks at him, something apprehensive in his expression. 

“Sorry man,” says Miguel, in a tone that makes Evan think the apology is anything but sincere. “Haven’t seen Murphy in way too long. Don’t want to waste any time.” He smiles at Connor and Connor’s cheeks go pink. Miguel looks at Evan’s plate and laughs a little. “No point in joining you, seeing as you’ve already eaten. You’ve got better things to do than sit around and wait for Murphy to eat a fucking apple slice or whatever.” He leans in a little. “Unless you wanna tell us all your fun facts about apples? That could pass the time.”

Evan looks at Connor. “If-if-if y-y-you w-w-want me to st-stay?”

Connor’s face is so red it looks like you could fry an egg on it. “No,” he mutters. “You’ve got better things to do. I’ll see you in there?”

Connor ducks his head, his hair falling in front of his face. Miguel slings his arm around Connor’s shoulder then directs him to the buffet, not bothering to say goodbye.

Liam looks at Evan questioningly. “That your roommate?”

“Connor is,” Evan says quietly. He swallows uncomfortably. “M-Miguel is an-an old f-friend of Connor’s from b-boarding school. H-Hanover? It’s in-in N-New Hampshire.”

Liam frowns a little. There’s something sad in his expression. “Are they… they’re not, like, messing with you or anything, are they?”

Evan feels his face go hot. “No,” he says immediately. “Connor’s my… my best friend? I j-just…” He looks at his empty plate. “So I’ve never really had friends before Connor. I guess I’m just not used to being a third wheel or whatever.”

Liam doesn’t look convinced. “It seems like this Miguel kid makes you really nervous.”

“He does,” Evan admits, because it’s true. “H-he’s just… I don’t know he m-makes me feel like such a l-l-loser? And-and I k-know that’s, like, so st-stupid, but I…”

“Dude,” says Liam kindly. “I know all about feeling like a loser. I feel like a loser all the fucking time.”

“You do?”

Liam nods. “There are like, five other people from my school here,” he says, a little bitterly. “I’m such a nobody that none of them have any idea I go to school with them.” He shrugs. “No one notices me, or really talks to me? I’m just kind of… invisible. It’s… really lonely.”

Evan knows this feeling. Knows it intimately. 

It’s exactly how he felt at his school in Chino.

Invisible. 

Nobody. 

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “No one deserves to feel like they don’t matter.”

Liam nods. “They don’t,” he says. He looks over across the room to where Miguel and Connor are getting breakfast, then back at Evan. “So the coffee here kind of sucks. There’s a Starbucks that’s maybe a ten-minute walk from here. We’ve got plenty of time. We could totally get there and back before the first lecture. What do you say?”

“Sounds good,” says Evan, feeling something in his chest ease up a little. 

They make it to Starbucks in five. Evan’s not wearing a jacket, because he wasn’t prepared to go outside, so they make good time just to keep warm. When they get there, it doesn’t take long for them to get their orders, so they decide to just drink their coffee there. 

“For what it’s worth,” Liam says, in this deliberately casual tone, “I don’t think you’re a loser at all, Evan.” 

“You’re not a loser either,” Evan says immediately. 

Liam nods determinedly. Raises his cup. “To not being losers.”

Evan smiles. Taps his cup against Liam’s. “To not being losers.”

* * *

For a trip that’s supposed to be a holiday, Heidi’s busy as hell. She feels like she’s been on the phone constantly since she arrived in D.C, fielding calls from work left, right and center. On one hand, she’s glad to be busy while the kids are in the workshop, but it’s starting to get a little out of control. 

Her work-life balance sucks. 

She’s known this for years, but it never used to be a problem. Her work was her life. She worked with her husband. Everything she needed was right there. 

But now David’s dead and she’s got Evan to consider. 

The rules have changed. 

And she feels like she’s flying blind.

She’s still on a call when she meets Laurel for lunch and has to promise to call a particularly panicked client back in an hour. When she finally gets off the phone, Laurel shakes her head and laughs a little. 

“Didn’t you say you were technically on vacation?”

“No rest for the wicked,” says Heidi with a sigh. 

Laurel laughs a little, then smiles at her. “Oh please, you’re as far from wicked as they come.” Her smile fades. “Seriously, Heidi, you have to look after yourself. You know better than anyone what overworking can do.”

Heidi feels her chest tighten. “Laurel. Come on.”

Her friend’s serious expression doesn’t let up. “Heidi,” she says, her tone blunt. “We both know you threw yourself into this job after David died. And maybe you needed the distraction then. But it’s not just you anymore. You’ve got Evan now.”

“I know,” she says, trying not to let her friend’s words sting. “I’m not… Laurel, come on. You’re a career person, you understand where I’m coming from.”

Laurel looks upset. “You were busy when you were corporate,” she continues. “But you’re on vacation and you’re getting all these calls? I worry you’re stretching yourself too thin.”

“I really don’t need you worrying about me, Laurel.”

Laurel raises her eyebrows. “Too bad. I’m going to worry about you.” She frowns. “It’s not like anyone in California is worrying about you.”

Heidi feels a little bit like she’s been stabbed. “That’s not fair,” she says, but it’s a weak argument and she knows it. 

Laurel blinks a few times. There’s genuine emotion on her face. “Look,” she says, matter-of-factly. “Since David’s gone, what’s really keeping you in California?” She laughs a little humorlessly. “We both know you don’t surf. And you don’t really tan, either.”

“Evan’s in California,” she says stubbornly. 

“No, he’s here with you,” Laurel points out, equally stubbornly. “You’d take him with you.”

Heidi blinks. “I’d have to look up moving guardianship out of the state of California.”

“Or you could just adopt him like I know you want to.”

Heidi feels a little bit like she’s being seen right through. Her shoulders sag. “Is it that obvious that’s what I want?”

Laurel’s face softens. “Yeah,” she says gently. “It’s written all over your face. You love that kid fiercely. He deserves someone who cares about him as much as you do, Heidi.” She frowns. Bites her lip. Looks like she’s choosing her words carefully. “The folks at Newport Beach all think he’s your nephew.”

Heidi’s heart clenches painfully. “They do,” she admits. 

“What’s going to happen when the truth comes out?” Laurel asks, not unkindly. “They’re all vultures, you said so yourself. You only put up with them for David’s sake. But David’s not here anymore.”

Heidi feels a little bit like she’s been slapped. “I know that. I know he’s not here-”

“That house in Orange County?” Laurel interrupts, something fierce in her voice. “It’s not yours. It’s  _ his _ . You’re living in a mausoleum, Heidi. You’re living with a ghost, and I worry about what it’s doing to you.”

Heidi feels her eyes sting. She doesn’t want to make a fucking fool of herself in this public place, but what Laurel has to say is landing hard. “I can’t just pack up and leave-”

“You can,” Laurel says firmly. “And maybe you should. Who’s looking out for you in California? Who do you have out there? You’ve got a kid now, Heidi, and it’s just you.” She blinks a few times, bites her lip and continues. “I know you love David. That you want to honor his memory. But you can’t co-parent with a dead man.” 

Heidi ducks her head. Lets her hair fall over her face and wipes her eyes. 

A moment later, Laurel’s grabbing her hand from across the table. 

“I’m not saying this to be an asshole, Heidi,” she says, her voice so gentle. “I just want you to be happy. And it’s been pretty obvious since David died that you haven’t been.”

“That’s not true,” Heidi protests hotly, wiping her face. “I  _ am  _ happy. I have Evan. Having him in my life makes me so happy.” She feels herself deflate like all the fight is draining out of her. She looks at her friend, a little desperately. “For a while, after David died, I felt like I’d never be happy again. Then I met this skinny sixteen-year-old with a bruise on his face, who’d been through things I can’t even begin to imagine, and all I wanted was to keep him safe. To give him a future.”

Laurel blinks. Her eyes are a little glassy. “You want to give him a future?” she asks, her voice gentle. “Surround him with people who care. Your people are  _ here _ , Heidi. I’m not saying you can’t do this on your own, because you and I both know you absolutely can. But I am saying that you don’t have to.”

Heidi wipes her face again. She’s crying properly now, stupidly grateful they’re in a corner table. “I’m not just picking him up and moving him across the country,” she says weakly. “There’s been too much decided for him in his life. I won’t just move him if he doesn’t want to.”

“He could be happy here,” Laurel says gently. “Somewhere he doesn’t have to hide or pretend. There are good schools here. And you’ll have me. And Cheryl’s in Maryland, Betty’s in Virginia… the three of us stood up for you when you married David. We still have your back, Heidi.”

Heidi nods. “I know you do,” she says, steadying her shoulders.

“Just promise me you’ll think about it?” Laurel asks. 

“Okay,” Heidi replies quietly. “I can promise that.”

* * *

By Friday night Connor can’t pretend he’s not confused. Miguel has been hanging off of him for three days and tomorrow morning he’s going back to New Hampshire and Hanover and Connor feels like he’s been sucked into a riptide and doesn’t know how to escape. 

It’s all just happening. 

Miguel’s kissed him a few times. 

And it’s just. Confusing.

He’s been evasive every time Connor’s tried to ask why the hell he disappeared from Connor’s life after Connor left Hanover. Doesn’t explain himself. Just shrugs it off or says “come on don’t ruin it.”

So Connor tries not to fucking ruin it. 

But he’s running out of time to get answers, running out of time before M’s back at school and away from him and potentially back to dodging his texts and calls. 

He finds Connor after the last session of the workshop on Friday and says he wants to hang out in Connor’s hotel room that night. Connor agrees, though Evan doesn’t seem terribly pleased with this development. 

He doesn’t think Evan cares for Miguel much. But he’s got enough of his plate to worry about. Connor figures he can deal with Evan once they’re back home. 

He’s only got one night left with M. 

They all chill in Connor and Evan’s room after dinner, just hanging out and watching some stupid shit on tv. Evan gets up to pee after a little while and Miguel kisses Connor hard the moment he’s gone. Super intensely. With tongue. 

He traces his finger around the collar of Connor’s shirt. “I need to go check in with Burns,” he says softly, looking up through his lashes at Connor. “Do you think maybe you can get rid of him for a little while?” He kisses Connor again. Bites his bottom lip. “I miss being  _ alone  _ with you.”

And somehow Connor’s nodding and saying that yeah, sure, he can get rid of Evan for a bit. 

Miguel waves goodbye and heads out of the room. 

Connor takes a couple of deep breaths. He feels like his heart might beat out of his chest. 

Evan emerges from the bathroom in his pajamas. “Did he leave?” He asks, his tone light but not as light as maybe he thinks it is. 

Connor tries to smile. “He uh. He’s gonna come back. Just needed to be there for bed check.”

“Oh,” Evan says, frowning. 

Connor sucks in another breath. “Do you uh. Do you think maybe you could give us the room for a bit tonight?”

Evan tilts his head in confusion. “Why?”

Connor raises his eyebrows. “Dude. Come on.”

Evan’s cheeks go pink. “Oh. Right. Uh.” He casts his eyes around the room awkwardly. “Y-yeah I… I guess I’ll just go. Hang out with Heidi?”

His voice has an edge to it that Connor chooses to ignore. He can deal with Evan when they’re back home. He’s only got one last night to figure this shit out with M. “Great. Thanks, man. Appreciate it.”

Evan frowns a little and then nods. “Yeah don’t w-worry about it. I’ll just. Say you’re catching up or-or whatever.”

Connor smiles at him. “Thanks, dude. Seriously.”

Evan looks like he maybe wants to say something else but then he closes his mouth. He throws on a hoodie on top of his pajamas and then some socks too. “Well if you just. Wanna text me when you two are - I-I mean. When I c-can-”

“Yeah,” Connor says emphatically. “Will do. Thanks again. You’re a good dude. I really appreciate you being cool about this.” He’s practically shoving Evan toward the door. “I’ll see you later, yeah? Smithsonian tomorrow, that’s gonna be awesome, okay see you later.”

The door closes behind Evan. 

Connor takes a breath and practically throws himself into the shower. He washes everywhere, taking extra care to ensure every part of him is clean, then he brushes his teeth three times and blow-dries his hair and gets into his pajamas. Just in case someone comes to check on him or whatever. 

A couple of minutes later, M is knocking on the door. Connor practically yanks him inside before deadbolting the lock and throwing the chain on it. 

“Hi,” Miguel says, sounding a little bit breathless. 

“Hi,” Connor says back. 

He’s equally breathless. 

“So we’re… alone?” M asks. 

Connor nods. 

Miguel smiles. “Thank god.” 

And then they’re kissing and Connor’s fucking relieved honestly not to have to immediately delve into having, like, some big Conversation or whatever. This part he can do. 

They keep kissing and M kind of shoves Connor up against the wall aggressively and then basically throws him on the bed and they make out properly for a while. Miguel still likes biting Connor’s lower lip, Connor’s happy to note, which is great because he’s always really liked that. 

Their clothes come off and they fool around for a bit when they realize they’ve hit a snag. 

“Did you bring… uh…?” Connor asks, slightly embarrassed to be naked and vulnerable and asking this now. 

“Oh. Uh. I kinda figured you had it covered,” Miguel says to him, his own cheeks blushing a little. 

“No, I couldn’t, like. Bring stuff on a plane? I didn’t even know you’d be here.”

M frowns. 

“Okay we can figure this out…” he says. 

“I could run out? Buy stuff?” Connor says hopelessly, not sure how he’d be able to sneak out, find a pharmacy still open, and get back before Evan started to get pissed about being locked out. 

M frowns. “My bus call is at five. And I don’t wanna wait.” He presses himself against Connor and Connor loses his train of thought for a long time. 

“I’m not doing this with just spit,” he says after a while. 

“Fine,” M says, rolling his eyes. “Hang on. I’ve got an idea…” 

Heads into the bathroom and comes back a few seconds later with a small bottle of hand lotion that housekeeping left. “Is this up to your standards, sir?” He drawls like Connor’s being really ridiculous. 

“Yeah,” Connor says finally. “That’ll work I guess.”

M throws the lotion on the bed and then his hands are pulling Connor forward by the hips roughly. Pushing him down roughly, parting his legs roughly. 

There’s a small voice in the back of Connor’s mind telling him this is stupid and kind of dangerous but he pushes through it. Their options are limited and he wants this. 

He wants this more than he’s worried. 

The lotion is pretty watery so they use like half the tube. It’s cold and smells like lavender and kind of stings, but Connor pushes through because he wants this and he has wanted it for a long time. 

Miguel is a little rougher than Connor remembers him being and it hurts, kind of, but he’s fine with it because he’s just so fucking desperate for more of it, more of him, more. 

When they finish, M grabs one of the hand towels from the bathroom and cleans Connor up clumsily before falling into bed beside him. He pulls the covers up over them and pulls Connor close. They lay there for a bit, all tangled up in each other and sweaty and out of breath. They never used to cuddle like this. It’s weird. Not exactly nice.

Connor can feel a bruise blooming on his hip. 

Maybe thirty minutes later, M kisses Connor’s neck and asks if he can go for a second round. 

He can. 

It lasts longer than the first. They use up the rest of the lotion bottle and Connor thinks distantly that he’s going to regret not just running out for supplies come morning. They go for a while, both of them all sweaty and out of breath, and M grabs Connor’s hips really roughly and says he always liked how Connor’s got an ass for a skinny white boy and Connor. 

It stings a bit. 

It kind of hurts. He’s trying to chase the good feelings but right now he’s in pain and M’s being really aggressive and talking about how he bets Evan doesn’t do this and…

M’s hands brush against Connor’s stomach and he smiles a little and punches the roll of skin there. 

Connor tries to swallow and focus but even after it’s done he kind of keeps thinking about that. It rolls around in his head like a marble or maybe a bowling ball. 

They clean up and then Connor pulls his underwear and t-shirt back on. Claims he’s cold but really he just wants to hide his gross and weird body a little. 

Miguel does the same and then he throws an arm around Connor’s waist. Curls up against him. His hand finds Connor’s and he starts tracing up and down his fingers. His hand. His arm. 

The inside of his wrist. 

Shit. 

“So you’re still at that then, huh?” Miguel says. He sounds kind of pissed. 

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” Connor mutters, embarrassed. 

“Yeah. Well. You never do, Murphy.” He lets out a sigh like Connor’s hugely disappointing him. “You never want to just be  _ real  _ with me.”

Connor feels like he’s been slapped. 

After a long time, he rolls over so he and M are face to face. “You’re not very real with me either,” Connor says carefully. 

“Sure I am,” Miguel says flippantly. “I don’t play your little rich kid games.”

Connor feels his eye start to twitch a little. “No, you play some other game and I don’t get  _ you.  _ You’re always talking such a big game about authenticity but you can’t even be honest with me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” M says, his eyebrows traveling up his forehead. 

“Well. I mean. What are we doing here?” 

M rolls his eyes. Laughs like Connor’s joking. “Well they call that  _ sex,  _ Murphy, I thought it was pretty self-explanatory.”

Connor’s not amused. “No, I mean. You and me. What is this?”

M looks frustrated. “Does it have to be anything?”

Connor feels cold all over. “Well. Yeah. I’d like it to be.”

M frowns deeper. “You always do this. Can’t we just be having fun?”

Connor opens and shuts his mouth a few times. “N-no,” he stutters out. “No, I want some fucking answers.”

“Fuck, you sound like your little closet case friend.”

“Quit calling him that and answer me,” Connor demands. “Are we a thing again or was this just a one night deal?”

M shrugs. “I dunno what you want me to say, dude. You live in yuppie L.A., I don’t exactly think we’re gonna take each other to prom.”

Connor feels his face heat up. He’s so embarrassed he feels like he could disintegrate on the spot. He’s so damn stupid. 

“So this was just sex?”

“It wasn’t  _ just  _ sex,” Miguel says quietly. “I mean. I like you. But we’re like. So different, man. How do you even think this would work? You think you’re just, what, gonna invite me to your parents’ big swanky Fourth of July party and they’re all going to accept that you’re with some scholarship kid who grew up speaking Spanish. Get real.”

Connor feels like he’s been stabbed in the heart. “Well, answer me this,” he says desperately. “Why didn’t you ever call me back?”

M shrugs. “My mom took my phone for a while after what happened. Told me I was stupid for hanging out with a stoner.”

It hurts. Connor can own that that hurts. “And when you got it back?” He demands. “Because you had it at Christmas and I seriously doubt you just didn’t have a phone all through first semester.”

“Damn Murphy, will you chill out?” Miguel says. “I just. I dunno man. I didn’t know what to say to you. You saved my ass and all but then you went all psycho stalker and started calling me like  _ every fucking day.  _ Like. Did you ever think maybe I wasn’t looking for something with that level of intensity?”

Connor feels his eyes start to sting. “Did you ever think that maybe you could have just  _ said  _ that?” He says. “I was going out of my mind. I didn’t know what happened to you. You were m-my best friend and you totally disappeared on me. And shit was. It wasn’t good when I got home and I needed you.” 

“Oh, shit wasn’t good?” Miguel says rolling his eyes. “Because, what, your mommy went a little heavy on the sauce or your dad was hovering or you didn’t feel like eating? Come talk to me when you get two jobs to help your mom pay rent, Murphy. Those aren’t  _ real.  _ They’re not real problems.”

Connor sees red for a second. Everything fades out fuzzily and for a moment he’s scared he’s gonna hit Miguel. “Yes, they are! They’re real to me!”

M shakes his head. “You’re just another spoiled rich kid who doesn’t know how good you have it.”

Connor wants to scream. “I- I was  _ alone.  _ All summer.”

“Please. You don’t ever let anyone in. Why would that matter to you?”

Connor hates him, he thinks. He hates Miguel. He doesn’t know how the fuck he ever thought he loved him. He picks his phone up and texts Evan because he can’t deal with it and he might genuinely need Evan to kick M’s ass or something. Or stop Connor from doing that himself because he keeps imagining it imagining how it would feel to just deck him to wipe that smug smile off of his stupid dimpled face. He needs back up. He’s flailing. He’s failing. Miguel’s not paying attention. He’s still carrying on about how stupid Connor is. 

“Look, dude, it was good to catch up and whatever but you’re making this out to be a way bigger deal than it is.”

“Please,” Connor spits, angrier now. “You can act all you want like I don’t matter to you but you’re full of shit, M. You’ve been hanging off of me all fucking week.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“Because you’re fucking jealous!” Connor goes on. “All week you’ve been jealous of Evan, even though I told you  _ nothing _ is going on between us.”

“Like I’d be jealous of some preppy ass retard you’re mooning over,” M says. 

Connor feels his heart drop. “Dude, come on.” He fixes M with a look. “Don’t call him that,” he pleads softly. “That’s no better than someone calling us fags, and you know it,” he says, softer still. 

There’s a knock on the door. 

Connor’s heart leaps. He gets out of bed and crosses the room. When he opens the door, Evan’s standing there in his pajamas. “Everything okay?” Evan says, his voice hard. “I heard yelling.”

“We’re good, Hansen, so why don’t you just butt out,” Miguel says. He turns, looking at Connor. “Did you call him?”

“I did,” Connor says hotly. “And what do you know, he actually fucking answered!”

Miguel laughs. “You two are fucking pathetic,” he says. “Don’t know why I wasted my time hanging out with you. Your heads are so far up your asses you can’t even see how fucking fake you are.”

Evan’s hand curls into a fist. “Y-you should go,” he says to Miguel. 

M’a eyes flash with anger. “Fine,” he says. He steps into his jeans. “You two are perfect for each other. Fucking rich assholes.”

He storms out. 

Connor lets out a breath. 

Wipes his cheeks.

Looks at Evan who has gone white with anger. 

“Thank you,” Connor says quietly. “For coming, I-”

Evan fixes Connor with a hard look. “I h-heard what he called me,” he says. His voice is so quiet it scares the hell out of Connor. 

Connor shrinks. “I’m sorry. He’s an asshole…”

“Yeah, no shit,” Evan says. “And you’re no better. Y-you didn’t even  _ defend  _ me you just-”

“I told him not to call you that,” Connor says desperately. 

“Did you?” Evan says, sounding mock interested. “Funny. Didn’t manage to hear that when you two were screaming at each other.”

Connor wraps his arms around his middle, feeling horribly, horribly ashamed. “I’m sorry, Evan, I swear. I told him not to call you that.”

Evan doesn’t look impressed. “You know that’s the sort of-of shit I expect from y-your mom or-or the assholes at school or  _ my  _ shitty dad. But I thought you were better.”

“Evan.”

“And I-I-I-I know how f-fucking stupid I sound,” he says harshly. “But it’s n-not… I can't j-just decide not to do it.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I know. I know you’re not-”

“Retarded?” Evan spits. 

Connor recoils. 

“Whatever,” Evan says. He heads into the bathroom and grabs his toothbrush, then snatches up some clothes from his bag. “I’m gonna sleep in Heidi’s room.”

“Evan come on.”

“H-hope you had an awesome night.”

The door shuts with a soft click and Connor just stares at it for a while. A long while. 

Why does he always fucking  _ do  _ this? 

He fucks up  _ everything.  _

* * *

Heidi’s a little surprised when Evan knocks on her door just before ten, but happy to see him. He’s got this cautious, guarded look on his face, but he tries to smile at her and says that Connor and Miguel are catching up and he wanted to give them some time to themselves. 

“They h-h-h-haven’t seen each other s-since May?” he explains as they sit on the sofa in the hotel suite together. “S-s-so I’m k-k-k-kinda a… a third wheel, you know?”

Evan’s stutter has been worse since they got to D.C, Heidi notices with a sinking feeling. It really does come and go, depending on how he’s feeling. When he’s stressed or upset or just overwhelmed, that’s when it shows up. 

She doesn’t want to upset him or offend him, but she’s been looking into some options to help him with it. It’s just a matter of figuring out how best to broach the subject. 

Tonight probably isn’t the time to discuss it, given how miserable he looks. 

She tries to distract him. They’ve had dinner, but she raids the minibar for snacks and the two of them watch TV kind of idly. Evan’s in his pajamas, Heidi notes. She tosses him a blanket and he cuddles up under it on one corner of the couch. 

He starts to relax after a while, she’s pleased to note. 

Starts telling her more about the workshop, completely unprompted. 

“T-this one speaker t-talked about color language?” Evan explains. “It w-was really interesting. A-a-and we, uh… d-did some free w-writing today on-on a prompt and-and-and w-worked in small g-groups to share it and critique it?”

“That sounds scary,” Heidi says honestly. “I don’t think I’d be brave enough to do that.”

Evan shrugs. His cheeks turn pink. “I, uh… k-kinda liked it?” He swallows hard, blinks a few times, then continues. “I m-mean, there are p-people critiquing me all the t-time without me a-asking, you know? So, uh… at-at least I ch-chose this. And-and it was really useful to-to hear from p-people who didn’t know me, d-didn’t have a… preconception.” 

Heidi nods. There’s a heavy feeling in her chest. “Yeah,” she says thoughtfully. “There’s something to be said about a fresh start, huh?”

“Yeah,” says Evan, sounding grateful. He swallows again. “I, uh… p-picked a group away from Connor and M? J-j-just to try something d-different it’s not like I d-don’t like Miguel I just d-don’t know him and he’s Connor’s friend and-and-and I d-don’t want to get in the way.”

“I’m sure you don’t,” says Heidi, even though she’s not sure she can back that up. 

Evan seems to shrink under her gaze. “I always do,” he says quietly, so quietly she can barely hear him. 

Heidi’s heart sinks. “Honey…”

Evan shakes his head. Smiles this sad smile that doesn’t really land, doesn’t really fit on his face properly, doesn’t look like a smile should. “D-don’t worry,” he says. “I’m b-being stupid.” He swallows. “How was l-lunch with Laurel today?”

Heidi knows an obvious subject change when she sees one. “Laurel’s good,” she says with a nod. “Still on her campaign to get us to move to D.C.”

Evan blinks. Stares at her for a moment. “Us?”

“Yeah,” says Heidi, looking at Evan significantly. She chooses her words carefully. “She knows I wouldn’t go anywhere without you.”

Evan just keeps staring. “You w-wouldn’t?”

Heidi smiles. She hates the way his voice shakes, hates the insecurity in his eyes. “No way,” she says firmly. “Sorry kid, you’re stuck with me.”

Evan’s whole face softens. “That’s not a bad thing,” he says, his voice equally soft, and Heidi notes that his voice doesn’t shake at all. 

They watch some more TV. Eat some more snacks. Talk a bit. 

It’s starting to get late.

Heidi thinks she might suggest that Evan head back to his room and get some sleep when his phone buzzes. Evan looks at it immediately, frowns a little, then squares his shoulders. 

“I, uh, I should go,” he says quietly. “That was Connor.”

Heidi smiles. “Okay, sweetheart. Sleep well, okay? I’m looking forward to the Smithsonian tomorrow.” She looks at her watch. “Well, today.”

Evan smiles back. “Th-thank you for letting me hang out?”

“Anytime, honey,” she tells him. “I love hanging out with you.”

Evan looks at her. Blinks a few times. “I l-love hanging out with you, too.”

It looks like there’s something more he wants to say, but he doesn’t. Just bids her goodnight and heads back to his room. 

Heidi goes to brush her teeth and wash her face. She’s just taken out her contacts when she hears another knock at the door. 

She goes to answer it to find Evan standing there, his eyes and nose red, clearly upset. 

Her heart sinks. 

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

“C-c-can I sleep on the c-couch?” he asks, his voice young and thin and shaking. “P-please?”

Heidi ushers him inside. She desperately wants to ask what happened, demand answers, but the kid looks like he’s barely holding it together and she knows she won’t get an answer out of him when he’s like this. She sets up the pullout couch, gets extra blankets from the closet, then sits on the edge of the makeshift bed with him. 

“Thank you,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. He winces. Hangs his head. “I-I-I-I d-don’t… c-c-can’t t-t-t-t-talk about it? N-n-n-not right n-n-now.”

It’s the worst she’s ever heard his stutter. 

She hates that he’s in pain. Hates it so much. 

“Okay,” she says simply. “But you can talk to me. When you’re ready. Okay?”

Evan nods. 

Heidi’s careful about what she says next. “I just need to know if Connor’s safe.”

Evan’s shoulders tense. “H-he is,” he says, his voice quiet and hard. “H-h-he’s okay, w-w-w-we j-j-just…”

He sniffs. Wipes his face. 

It takes a moment for Heidi to realize he’s shaking. Silently sobbing. 

Her heart is breaking, she thinks. It has to be. 

There’s nothing else to do. She pulls him into a tight hug and lets him cry until he’s done, until it’s all out, until her pajama top is soaked through with his tears and he’s limp and exhausted in her arms. He looks so young like this. Young and scared and vulnerable. 

What the hell happened?

What the  _ hell  _ happened?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "Dance, Dance" by Fall Out Boy.


	29. I Hope To God He Was Worth It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On their last day in D.C. Connor faces the consequences of the night before. Heidi and Evan consider a change.

Connor hardly sleeps. 

He’s fucked up. He knows he’s fucked up. God, Evan looked so  _ crushed _ . 

And what the hell was he thinking, sleeping with Miguel last night? Picking Miguel over Evan. 

That was so fucking stupid. He knows better. He knows Miguel doesn’t fucking want him, he’s known since May, but he is stupid and desperate and just thought that since… since M wanted to have sex that that meant something. 

Evan’s been steadfast and loyal since the day they met. He’s punched people for Connor. He clearly gives more of a shit than M ever has. Sure he doesn’t want Connor the way he wants Evan but like. Connor already knew that. 

Why the fuck would he pick spending the night with Miguel over hanging out with Evan? Seriously what is the matter with him? 

And he can’t blame anybody but himself. 

Why didn’t he defend Evan louder? Why didn’t he punch Miguel for talking about his  _ best friend  _ that way? 

Why does he give a fuck what M thinks anyway? 

Why did he get embarrassed by being seen with Evan? Why is he such a fucking  _ asshole?  _

Connor steals the little notepad in the room and one of the nice pens Evan gave him for Christmas and spends half of the night lying in his bed trying to write an apology. Explain. Tell Evan how fucking sorry he is. 

Because he is. He’s so damn sorry. 

He shouldn’t have texted Evan. That was stupid. He just got overwhelmed and worried he would punch Miguel. That he would hurt him. 

But then Evan showed up and it just made everything so much worse. 

Fuck. 

Connor wakes up as the sun streaks across his hotel bed. 

He’s sore all over. His whole body hurts. His ass hurts which… 

Fuck they didn’t even use a condom. 

Fuck. 

Connor ends up puking in the bathroom for a long time. Until the only thing left inside him is soapy, bitter bile. 

He looks at his reflection and hates himself more. There’s a hickey low on his neck. His hair is a mess. He’s got ink on his cheek. 

Connor takes a shower. His hands are shaking. His whole body is shaking and everything hurts and aches and he feels like such a fucking bastard. He’s so sick of himself. 

Connor gets dressed and dries his hair and then grabs his room key and heads down the hall to Heidi’s room. He needs to apologize to Evan and he needs to do it now, before it sits, before it gets in and ruins everything. 

Connor knocks on Heidi’s door and shoves his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. Connor’s weirdly freezing. 

Heidi opens the door. Her eyes widen at the sight of him. “Connor, are you alright?” 

He nods awkwardly. “Is Evan up yet?” 

Heidi nods. “He’s in the shower,” she says quietly. She steps out into the hallway, crossing her arms over her chest and Connor steps back feeling horribly guilty. “You’re sure you’re alright?” 

Connor nods. “I’m fine.”

“Then you want to tell me why my kid came back so upset last night?” Heidi says, her voice hard. 

Connor’s breath catches in his throat. 

Because Heidi called Evan her kid. 

Not long ago, Connor and Evan were sure that she might get rid of him if he got into any trouble. 

Now Evan’s her kid. 

But he’s hurt. Because of Connor. And Heidi knows. 

She knows it’s his fault. 

Connor stares down at his shoes. 

Heidi’s voice is steely. Angry. Her eyes are piercing him. “What did you do?”

Connor tries to shrink before her. He folds his arms over his middle. Tries to hide his neck. He swallows hard. Can’t look at her. 

“I’m…. I’m. I think I really fucked up, Aunt Heidi.”

He glances carefully up at her. She’s frowning deeply. “Tell me what happened.”

Connor stares at his shoes. He explains that he and Miguel had been hanging out. That they had argued. That he had texted Evan and Evan came back and overheard Miguel call him retarded. 

“I told M to knock it off, I told him that saying that was no better than someone calling us - calling  _ me -  _ a f-fag. But I… I didn’t yell it? I don’t think Evan h-heard me and he was still outside I… I wanted to apologize? I really fucked up. I was stupid and I shouldn’t have been alone with Miguel and I-I hurt Evan and…”

“Damn it, Connor,” Heidi says softly. She looks up at him. Pulls him into an unexpected hug. 

Connor doesn’t know how to react. He’s terrified he might lose it. 

Heidi looks him up and down. “Sweetheart, tell me you at least used a condom.” 

Connor feels his face burning. “I… that’s not what-”

Heidi’s eyebrows go up. “I wasn’t born yesterday Connor.”

Connor tries to swallow. He can’t look at her. “Yeah. I’m not stupid. Of course.”

She reaches out and pushes some of Connor’s hair out of his face. Hugs him again. “Okay. Tell you what,” she says. “Go on down to breakfast, okay? Try to actually eat something. I’ll talk to Evan and the two of you can work this out. You can apologize properly. Alright?”

Connor nods. “I’d never call him that. That’s an-an awful thing to say. I wouldn’t ever call  _ anybody _ … I… you have to believe me.”

Heidi nods. “I do sweetheart, I do.” She gives him a hard look. “But you’re smarter than this, Connor. You’re better. Don’t let wanting to be liked turn you into someone you’re not.”

Connor feels like his whole body prickles with shame. He nods and heads down the hall, out of her sight. He ducks into his room to grab his shitty attempts at an apology note and goes down to the breakfast room and drinks coffee and waits. 

He can’t bring himself to even touch the coffee after a few sips. His stomach is tied up in knots. 

Maybe twenty minutes later, once his coffee has basically gone cold, Evan and Heidi arrive. Heidi’s got her hand on the back of Evan’s neck. She says something to him and Evan’s face smooths into something blank and Connor hates it. He hates it so much. 

Evan goes and gets some food. Eggs and a load of fruit. He has a seat across from Connor. His face is still blank. 

“Hey,” he offers Connor. 

“I’m so fucking sorry,” Connor blurts immediately. “I’m an asshole. I fucked up.”

Evan raises his eyebrows but doesn’t respond. He starts eating his eggs. 

Connor feels stupidly like crying. 

“I know you don’t believe me,” Connor goes on. “But I  _ swear,  _ Evan, I told him not to fucking talk about you that way. I told him -”

Evan scoffs. “Sure.”

“I shouldn’t have texted you,” Connor says stupidly. “I fucked up and I was afraid I might h-hurt him and I shouldn’t have asked you to bail me out.”

Evan looks at him for a brief second. “Of course you should have texted.”

“No, I-”

“I care about you, asshole,” Evan says, his voice strong and steady. “Of course you should have texted.”

Connor looks down at his cold cup of coffee, his face burning. “I’m so sorry. I really am. I know you didn’t hear it but I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t let someone talk about you like that. I wouldn’t ever use that word.”

Evan gives him that same blank look. “It’s nothing you haven’t said before.”

Connor thinks he feels his heart stop. Actually fucking stop. “No. No I’ve never…”

Evan raises his eyebrows again but just keeps eating. 

“Evan. Come on. You know me. You know I…” he can’t make his mouth work. “You  _ know  _ me.”

Evan sighs. “Do I?” He picks up his now empty plate and goes to sit with Heidi. 

Connor balls up the stupid fucking apology note he had tried to write and gets up. Heads up to his room where he stares at his phone until Heidi comes to collect him to go to the museums. 

No texts from M. 

None from Evan. 

Connor’s never felt so damn lonely. 

* * *

Evan’s been looking forward to the Smithsonian ever since Heidi confirmed they’d be spending extra time in D.C. He’s read all about the museums and they’re just super cool. There’s so much history and culture and interesting things to see, and he’d been so excited to hear that they’d be visiting.

Now it’s just…

He can barely muster up any enthusiasm. It’s all falling completely flat because of fucking Miguel.

And fucking Connor.

Miguel and Connor, fucking. 

Not that that’s the thing he’s upset about, obviously. He’s just…

Fuck. He’s so fucking stupid.

So stupid for thinking that Connor was his friend, for thinking that he had his back.

Evan’s just a substitute. Connor’s just been passing time, waiting for someone he really cares about to show up. 

Evan’s so  _ stupid. _

He’s stupid and he’s just… crushed, and he hates it, hates this overwhelming feeling of disappointment, hates that he put himself in a position where he could be let down.

If you don’t trust people, they can’t let you down. 

He was stupid.

He let his guard down and he was stupid and Connor betrayed him and he should have seen it coming.

Evan tries to focus on the exhibits, on all the amazing history, on Heidi’s commentary that’s interesting and funny and so incredibly fucking kind, but he can’t stop his brain from playing what Miguel said about him, over and over again.

_ “Like I’d be jealous of some preppy ass retard you’re mooning over.” _

Most of it doesn’t make any fucking  _ sense _ . Connor’s not mooning over Evan. They’re friends. Connor doesn’t think of Evan as anything more than a friend, and it’s an asshole move of M to buy into the bullshit idea that a gay guy and a straight guy can’t be friends. 

Miguel’s always bitching about stereotypes. He’s playing right into one. 

Pretentious, hypocritical asshole. 

And, okay, sure, Miguel can sit there and call him preppy all he likes. He doesn’t know Evan. Doesn’t know anything about him. He’s drawn his own conclusions based on what he sees, not bothered to get to know him in any way. Which is probably just as well because nobody  _ likes  _ Evan once they know him.

Not even Connor, apparently. 

Fuck, that hurts. 

Not nearly as much as Miguel calling him a retard. Nowhere  _ near  _ as much as that hurt.

His dad called him that.

Ethan called him that. 

Kids at his old school called him that, because of his stutter. Made him feel stupid and small and angry as hell.

He didn’t know how to deal with it. There were only two options. 

Fight or flight. 

Either he’d get into a punch up or he’d just not go to school.

He should have punched Miguel. 

Should have just socked him right across the jaw.

He would have deserved it. Evan only heard a fraction of the conversation but he definitely said something to upset Connor.

Evan hates that. 

Hates that Miguel upset Connor. 

Hates even more that he cares. 

He cares, he stupidly cares, even though Connor won’t even defend him. Won’t say a word when Miguel calls him a retard. 

It’s a bullshit, horrible word that no one should be using and Connor doesn’t fucking realize. He’s said it before, he’s used it before like it’s not a big deal. Casually referred to himself as socially retarded, like the word doesn’t have any fucking weight.

Connor’s mom thinks Evan’s retarded. 

That he can deal with. The woman is an abusive alcoholic, nothing she says matters. 

Miguel thinks he’s retarded. 

He doesn’t exactly love it, but that kid’s a hypocrite with a massive chip on his shoulder who wants to drag the whole world down to his level. Evan won’t let anything he says matter to him.

But Connor not defending him?

That hurts. 

It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts. 

It hurts to know that when there’s a choice to be made, Connor won’t pick him. Not until the chips are down, not until he needs someone. 

He’ll pick Miguel over Evan anytime. 

He’d pick  _ anyone  _ else over Evan. 

Everyone always does. He was stupid to think otherwise.

Evan just…

Fuck, why can’t he just stop caring? He cares and he hates that he cares, but he can’t just turn it off, he’s not  _ built  _ that way. He can’t just stop caring. 

Connor trying to apologize, telling Evan that he never should have called him…

Evan’s still glad he did. If Miguel had hurt him…

Evan thinks he might have legitimately murdered the guy.

Ripped out his throat. 

Fuck, if Miguel wanted proof that Evan doesn’t belong in the upper class, he certainly would have gotten it if Evan had picked a fight with him. He knows he fights like he’s got something to prove. Desperately and stupidly and stubbornly.

He doesn’t know how to fight any other way.

It’s probably good Miguel’s already left. He’d mentioned he had like a 5 am wakeup for his flight back to New Hampshire. 

Because every time Evan can bring himself to look at Connor, he’s seized with the urge to kill Miguel, all over again. 

Connor looks like shit. 

Absolute shit.

He’s walking like he’s been in a fight. Winces at sudden movements. 

Miguel didn’t just hurt Connor emotionally, he hurt him physically as well. 

Evan doesn’t exactly sit around thinking about gay sex, but he’s not completely naive here. He knows that it can be… violent. Rough. All the dumb jokes Ethan used to make about some guy making you his bitch in prison always made him nervous, freaked him out a little because it just seems so… invasive.

Hurtful.

Fuck.

He’s trying not to be a homophobic piece of shit here. He really isn’t. It’s just…

He hates the idea of Miguel hurting Connor like that. 

It makes him sick to his stomach.

He doesn’t look at Connor much, but when he does, there’s nothing behind his eyes. Like he’s completely checked out, like he’s a million miles away, anywhere but here.

Evan hates it. 

He hates it he hates it he hates it.

They get lunch at a cafe near the Smithsonian. 

Connor doesn’t eat. Doesn’t even touch the salad Heidi orders for him.

Heidi looks so sad. So freaked out. She keeps gently encouraging Connor to eat, but he just folds into himself, mumbling that he feels sick.

Evan wants to start listing all the good things in the salad. Wants to pass on all his dumb facts about food, but he can’t stop thinking about Miguel mocking him for them.

He thought his dumb food facts might have kind of helped Connor.

It looks like when it comes to Connor, Evan’s wrong about a lot of things.

They hit the Air and Space Museum after lunch. Not long after they arrive, Evan gets a text. 

It’s from Liam. 

**Hey, you still doing the Smithsonian today? Wanna grab a quick coffee at like 3? My mom is heading into D.C. for a meeting and I could get a ride in with her if you wanted one last catch up.**

“Is it okay if I grab coffee with a friend at 3?” he asks Heidi. 

Connor seems to actually hear that. He looks at Evan, his eyes wide.

Heidi’s eyes widen as well, but she smiles. “Absolutely,” she says immediately. “Is this your friend Liam from the workshop?”

“Yeah,” he says, trying to ignore the way Connor’s eyes keep getting wider, ignore the confused and kind of hurt expression on his face. “He, uh, he lives in Maryland? His mom is coming into D.C. so he asked if I was free.”

“That sounds great, sweetheart,” says Heidi, and there’s something almost relieved in her voice. 

Evan tries not to think about it too much.

They spend the next few hours going through the Air and Space Museum. Evan tries his hardest to concentrate, to lose himself in the exhibits. To let learning new things distract him, the way they always have. 

It’s not entirely working, though.

Despite the shit show that this trip has been, Evan likes D.C. It’s a cool city. He could be happy here, he thinks. 

He’d miss the ocean, sure, but maybe he could be a real person here.

Someone who doesn’t have to lie all the time.

Liam meets them outside the museum. He smiles brightly when he sees Evan. Evan makes sure to introduce him to Heidi and does a brief reintroduction of Connor. 

He’d introduced Liam to Connor on Friday morning. Connor hadn’t seemed to be paying a lot of attention.

Given how confused he looks, Evan’s willing to bet he doesn’t remember it at all.

Liam knows the area better, given that he goes to school in D.C, so he directs them to a nearby Starbucks. Connor quietly offers to save them a table, just as Heidi takes a phone call. She frowns, apologizes, and heads outside to finish the call, asking Evan to order her a caramel macchiato.

Evan kind of likes that they have the same drink order. 

Liam looks at Evan with a small frown the minute Heidi’s gone. Glances at Connor, who’s staring out the window blankly. “Your friend doesn’t look good,” Liam says, sounding genuinely concerned. “Is he okay?”

“I don’t think so,” Evan replies, his throat dry. Liam looks like he’s going to say something else and Evan sighs. “Is it okay if we maybe don’t get into it?”

“Sure,” says Liam with a nod. “Whatever you need.”

Evan insists on paying for Liam’s drink as a thank you. Orders Connor a black coffee. Once the drinks are ready, he and Liam take them back to the table. Evan looks out to see Heidi still outside, clearly deep in conversation. He picks up Heidi’s drink.

“I’m just going to go give this to Heidi,” he says quietly. “I’ll be right back.”

He doesn’t exactly love the idea of leaving Liam and Connor alone, but he doesn’t want Heidi’s coffee to get cold, either. He heads outside and hands it to her. She says something to the person on the other end, then puts her hand over the phone and turns to Evan and smiles. 

“Thank you, honey,” she says, taking the coffee. She sighs. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t be more than another five minutes?”

“Is everything okay?” Evan asks, frowning a little.

Heidi sighs. Smiles a little sadly. “Just work,” she says. Her shoulders sag a bit. For a moment, she looks deeply unhappy. “I’m sorry. I’m going to try to wrap this up as soon as I can so we can get back to our day. Okay?”

Evan nods. “Okay.”

Heidi smiles, then puts her hand on his shoulder and pulls him into a one-armed hug. “You go back inside,” she says fondly. “You’re from California, you’re not used to this weather.”

She’s got a point. It’s fucking freezing. “I like it,” he says with a small smile. “It’s different.”

Heidi smiles brightly. “That it is.” 

* * *

Connor does not know who the  _ fuck  _ this Liam guy is but he decides immediately that he does not like him. He’s so. Nice. He keeps saying all of these  _ polite  _ things to Evan and Heidi and since when does Evan have friends here in D.C.? He keeps pointing out various landmarks and shit and it is getting on Connor’s last nerve. 

He also keeps giving Connor these  _ looks.  _ Like he’s worried about him or some shit. 

Evan probably spilled what happened last night to him all via text earlier and he’s watching Connor like he feels sorry for him and Connor sort of wants to throw his coffee in this dude’s face. 

Evan steps out to give Heidi her order and then it’s just Connor and this fucking Liam guy. 

Who is quiet and smiles awkwardly at Connor and then spits out, “This might sound weird but... are you okay?”

Connor stares. “What?”

Liam looks down at his coffee. Connor finds himself cruelly thinking this kid looks like a sentient lima bean or something. Boring. He looks  _ bland.  _ “You look like… like you’re in a lot of pain.”

For a second Connor is worried this dude is psychic or something but then he connects the dots. The way he’s having to sit gingerly. The fact that his hips are throbbing and weirdly his knees hurt and his shoulders too. He is in a lot of pain. He’s been trying to hide it but apparently he’s doing a shitty job. 

“I’m fine,” Connor says flatly. 

Liam looks away embarrassed. “Sorry, it’s just. I have a… it’s a chronic thing so. I’m in pain a lot, too. If you need something? I’m kind of a walking pharmacy. And if it’s really bad I’ve got some OxyContin…”

Connor blinks at him. 

This kid is trying to sell him drugs. 

He goes into his bag and pulls out an orange prescription bottle. Shakes out one of the pills. 

Oh god, it’s worse. This kid is trying to  _ give  _ him drugs. For free. 

Connor stares at the pill in his hand. 

He wants to take it. 

One oxy is barely enough to get  _ high  _ but it would sure as fuck take the edge off this godawful day. 

He wants to take it. 

He really wants to take it. 

But his mother is in fucking rehab right now. And Connor hasn’t touched anything harder than weed since last summer. 

He wants to take this kid’s drugs. He desperately wants to take it. 

But he can’t. 

He knows better. He thinks back to Heidi’s words in the hall this morning.

She thinks he’s better than this. 

He’s probably not but he’d sure like to be. 

Plus he doesn’t need to get a little high and have Evan get pissed off about  _ that  _ too. He’s done enough today to fuck things up. 

Connor shakes his head. “No man, I can’t.”

Liam’s head tilts like a confused puppy. “You look like you’re really hurting-”

Connor shakes his head again. “No, I can’t because I’m fifteen months clean,” he says. 

He’s not sure why he offers that up. 

He’s never told anyone that. He’s definitely never gotten into it with Evan. Never mentioned going to rehab, not even after his mom went. Just vaguely said he did a lot of drugs in ninth grade. He’s never told him. Never shared his clean birthday.

Liam’s eyes go huge. He quickly shoves the pill back into the bottle. “Shit I… I didn’t know. I’m sorry I wasn’t like… I’m an idiot.”

Connor tries to smile politely. Like a nice, not-scary addict. “Don’t worry about it,” he says quietly. He’s watching the door closely, making sure Evan’s not on his way back yet. He’s not. “Do you maybe have aspirin or a Tylenol or something?” 

Liam nods. “Yeah, I’m kind of a walking pharmacy.” He takes out two Tylenol from another bottle and hands them to Connor. 

“Thanks, man,” Connor says quietly. He takes the pills with a swig of his too hot, too bitter coffee.

Liam’s looking at him. “I’m so sorry again.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Connor says. 

“Congrats though,” Liam adds. “Fifteen months. That’s a big deal, right?” 

There was a time when fifteen fucking  _ days  _ was an accomplishment. Connor smiles at him awkwardly. “Not really,” he lies. 

He sees Evan heading back inside. His cheeks are pink from the cold. He looks… really good today. 

Connor’s ruining his life. He’s ruining this kid’s shot at actually having a second chance. A decent life. 

“I’m just gonna… bathroom?” He says awkwardly. 

Liam nods. 

Connor escapes to the single-stall bathroom. When he gets inside he unzips his pants and pulls them down to inspect his hip that’s been hurting all day. 

He’s got some bruises on it. Not big ones. Fingertip sized. But they’re dark and vivid against his pale skin. 

He’s got them on his other hip too. 

And he’s so damn sore. 

M sure had fun with him last night. 

Connor feels so unbelievably stupid all over again. He washes his face and then pulls out his phone. He texts his dad. Just to say hi. 

He weirdly misses home. 

Everything there is a mess but it’s a familiar mess. 

**How’s the trip so far, bud? You having a good time?**

Connor doesn’t have the heart to say he’s miserable. That he’s fucked up everything with Evan. With M. Probably with Heidi too. That he’s so tired he feels like he’s on the brink of tears and has all fucking day. That he’s so beyond stupid and he can’t figure out why he’s so dumb, so pathetic, why it appears he doesn’t even have a backbone because he can’t take a stand on anything important. That he’s messing everything up again and doesn’t know how to stop. 

He doesn’t tell his dad that he’s in a fuckton of pain and he’s not sure if it’s because Miguel hurt him during sex or if it’s his stupid “growing pains” again or if it’s because he got his heart pulverized again and it’s just radiating out. 

He doesn’t have it in him to tell his dad that some kid just offered him drugs but he turned them down even though he thought about taking them. 

That he’s been off pills for fifteen months and that it never felt like a big deal until he said it to a stranger in a D.C. Starbucks.

Instead, he says he’s having fun and learning a lot and then heads out of the bathroom. Back to the table which Heidi has also just joined. She asks Connor if he’s alright as he sits down very carefully. 

“I’m okay,” he says quietly. 

Lets the three of them continue their conversation and watches people outside through the window and keeps quiet. 

* * *

When Evan gets back into the Starbucks, Connor’s nowhere to be seen and Liam’s wearing a deep frown. 

There’s a sinking feeling in Evan’s stomach.

“I think I fucked up?” Liam says, his voice hesitant and sad. “I’m really sorry?”

Evan swallows hard. “Fucked up how?” 

Liam looks so guilty. So sad. “I just wanted to help? I kind of… so I’ve got a pretty good eye for when people are in pain. You know, because of my CRPS. It means I can kinda… tell. And I can see that Connor’s in a lot of pain.”

Evan’s chest aches. “Did Connor say something to you?” he asks carefully, hoping like hell that Connor didn’t, like, completely go off at this nice kid from Maryland who’s somehow decided Evan’s worth hanging out with. 

Liam winces. “I didn’t know,” he says quietly. “That he… had a drug problem? I offered him OxyContin like an idiot, I’m really sorry.”

Evan feels something inside him seize horribly, like a hand made of ice grabbing his heart. “Did he take it?” he asks, a little desperately. 

“No,” Liam says instantly, his eyes wide. “He said no. Took some Tylenol, though.” He winces. “I don’t want you to think I just, like, go around handing out hard drugs? Only when I think people are really hurting.” His shoulders sag. “I didn’t even think about it, I’m really sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Evan says, hating how his voice is weak and far away. 

He knew that Connor had been to rehab. 

Zoe told him that. 

Connor’s never mentioned it, though. 

Never talked about it. 

But he…

He turned it down. Didn’t take oxy from Liam, even when freely offered. That’s…

That’s big. 

That’s  _ huge _ . 

That’s a big fucking deal for someone who’s been through rehab for substance abuse. Evan’s not stupid. He  _ knows  _ it’s a big deal.

Especially today, when Connor’s clearly in pain, and not just physically. When he’s clearly in really fucking bad shape. 

He said no. 

He turned it down. 

And last night, he called Evan. He reached out for help when he needed it, he…

Fuck. 

Evan’s such an  _ asshole, _ holy fuck.

He’s trying. 

Connor’s  _ trying _ . 

And Evan’s just… been icing him out because of something someone else said? 

Because of something fucking  _ Miguel  _ said?

Because he didn’t defend him? 

Connor swore he  _ did  _ defend him. Swore he said something, and…

Evan didn’t hear it. 

But he did hear muffled voices, he’s realizing. He didn’t hear exactly what was said, but…

Connor might be telling the truth. 

Connor…

Just because Evan’s a liar, all the way down to his bones, doesn’t mean that he should always assume the worst. 

He swallows hard. 

Feels stupidly like he’s about to cry. 

“Is everything okay?” Liam asks, his voice kind and sad. “You seem… you both seem kind of down. You don’t have to tell me, but… are you going to be okay?”

Evan thinks about it. 

Swallows hard. 

“Yeah,” he manages to choke out. “Yeah, it’s going to be okay.”

Heidi’s back moments later and she smiles brightly at them. “Sorry,” she says apologetically. “Apparently work can’t get enough of me this week. Even though it’s a weekend.”

“They’re demanding in California,” Evan says to Liam with a smile. 

Liam laughs a little. Nods, and takes a sip of his drink. “They’re pretty demanding around here, too,” he confesses. “My mom’s meeting with a client right now.” He looks at Evan and smiles. “Still, at least I got to hang out with Evan again.”

Heidi’s beaming. “It’s really great to see you making friends,” she says to Evan, her voice warm. “I know it hasn’t always been easy back home.”

Evan shrugs. “It’s okay.” He screws up his nose a little. “Just, you know. It can be hard, pretending I’m someone I’m not.”

Heidi’s eyes go wide. She looks at Liam, then back at Evan. 

Liam clears his throat. “Evan told me,” he says quietly. He smiles a little. “I don’t know anyone in Orange County, so… your secret’s safe with me.”

Heidi looks at Evan, this strange look. It takes her a while to say anything. 

“I guess that makes sense,” she says, smiling a little. 

“More lawyers could stand to be like you,” says Liam, something sincere in his voice. “My parents are both lawyers and… they would not do that.”

Something in Heidi’s expression twists. She looks like she wants to say something, but then Connor’s coming back over, sitting down carefully and offering a pale smile. 

Heidi asks some questions about practicing law in D.C. which Liam seems to be able to answer for the most part. Some he doesn’t know and he promises Heidi he’ll ask his parents and find out for her. 

It dawns on Evan why she’s asking. “So you’re really thinking about it?” he says quietly. 

Heidi glances at Connor, who doesn’t seem to be paying attention, then back to Evan. “I’m not  _ not  _ thinking about it. But I wouldn’t do anything without your approval.”

Liam frowns. “Thinking about what?” he asks, his voice a little louder than maybe necessary. Connor blinks, then seems to snap back to the conversation. 

Heidi bites her lip. “My best friend Laurel lives in D.C.,” she explains matter-of-factly. “She’s been trying to convince me to move back here since my husband passed.”

Connor’s eyes go wide. “She has?” 

Liam looks a little hesitant. “But you’d, like, take Evan with you, right? He wouldn’t have to go back into foster care or anything?”

Heidi nods. “I’m not going anywhere without Evan,” she says firmly. Evan’s heart clenches happily at the determination in her words. “And even if we did decide to move, which I’m not saying we are, it wouldn’t be until the end of the school year at the very earliest.”

Connor has gone pale, paler than he already is. He looks sick. 

It makes Evan’s stomach churn. 

“You’re moving to D.C.?” he asks, his voice a little pained. 

“Nothing’s decided,” Heidi says, shooting Evan a look, something conflicted in her expression. “But I… I think it’s worth considering?” She sighs. Frowns, and looks at Connor. “Evan wouldn’t have to pretend here. He could be my kid, not my nephew. No more hiding. No more lies.”

Evan’s heart is beating far too fast. Connor looks like he’s going to throw up. Genuinely like he’s going to be sick. 

“Excuse me,” Connor mutters and practically runs to the bathroom. 

Liam frowns at Evan as Connor goes, something sympathetic in his eyes. “He really doesn’t seem to be having a great time,” he says. “Maybe you guys should head back to the hotel in a bit? Get some rest?”

Heidi hesitates. Looks a little torn. She looks at Evan. “We didn’t get a chance to see the Museum of Natural History. You were looking forward to that.”

Liam bites his lip. Shrugs a little. “I could show Evan around? If you wanted to get Connor back to the hotel? I don’t mind.”

Heidi’s eyes go big. Like she’s not sure about this.

Evan knows he should thank Liam and tell him it’s okay, but he just…

He needs some time to process. 

To figure out what he’s going to say. 

And if they go back to the hotel now, he’s going to have to talk to Connor. 

“I promise I’ll be back to the hotel by five,” Evan says, looking Heidi straight in the eye. “I’ll have my phone on me the whole time and I’ll get a cab back.”

“Or my mom could drop him off,” Liam volunteers. “I can give you her number?”

He seems kind of excited at the prospect of hanging out with Evan a little more and that kind of does something funny to Evan’s insides. 

People don’t just want to hang out with him. 

It’s not how it works. 

But Liam’s nice and kind and he’s been dealt a pretty rough hand with his condition. Maybe he needs a friend as much as Evan does. 

“Alright,” says Heidi with a nod. “That sounds good.”

Connor’s back maybe five minutes later. His face has gone from pale to gray, and that seems to settle things in Heidi’s eyes. She tells him that the two of them are heading back to the hotel while Evan and Liam check out one last museum. 

Connor looks at Evan, his eyes wide and pleading. Evan almost tells Liam he should go back to the hotel with them. 

But he doesn’t. 

Connor won’t look at him when he and Heidi get into a cab and head back to the hotel. He and Liam watch them go. 

Evan feels… a little bit like he’s outside of his body. 

They head to the Museum of Natural History, Liam pointing out landmarks as they go. 

“So do you think you guys might actually move out here?” Liam asks after a while, his voice hesitant. 

“I don’t know,” Evan replies honestly. “I… I don’t know how I feel about it?” He sighs. “This trip is the first I heard about it, so.”

Liam looks thoughtful. “She’s not wrong,” he says carefully. “It might be nice for you to not have to lie.”

He’s probably right, Evan thinks, but it’s nowhere near as simple as that. 

This is a pretty big lie, sure, but it’s not like it’s the first one. 

Not like it’s the last, either. 

Evan is a liar. It’s written into his DNA. 

It’s just who he is as a person. 

A change of scenery isn’t going to change that. 

* * *

Connor throws up in the bathroom. 

He’s got nothing inside him to successfully throw up but he finds himself trying anyway. 

Evan and Heidi might leave. They might move here. They might leave they might leave they might leave him behind. 

Connor struggles to get it together. He’s behaving like an idiot. 

He’s being so stupid. 

Connor heads out of the bathroom. He needs to hold himself together because he’s wrecking their day. He’s wrecking everything he’s ruining it. Heidi takes one look at him and tells him they’re going back to the hotel. Connor feels himself sag with relief. 

“Evan and Liam are going to hit the Museum of Natural History,” she says. “But you and I are going to go back and just relax.”

Connor looks at Evan. He’s trying to plead with him silently.  _ Come back with me. Please please please come back.  _

“See you later,” Evan says. 

Fuck. 

Connor looks down. 

Fuck. 

He lets Heidi bundle him into a cab and he stares out the window and tries desperately to keep it together but it’s a losing battle. 

It’s a lost battle. 

The first tear slips hot and embarrassing down his cheek. He can’t bring himself to look at Heidi when she speaks. “Nothing’s decided yet,” she says quietly. 

He nods. Connor can’t look at her. Sure. Of course. Of course. 

“It wouldn’t be until after the school year ends. It wouldn’t be fair to move him in the middle of the school year. And I’d have to see about getting my law license transferred. Find a job. Sell the house.”

Connor nods again. Great. Sure. End of the year. She’s gotta sell her and David’s house. Connor lost his first tooth in that house. Sure. Right. Perfect. Two more tears escape. They feel like lava cutting tracks down his face. They burn. His chest is so tight and his heart is thudding out a tattoo of panic in his chest. He cannot look at her. 

“And obviously you could come visit,” Heidi adds. “On breaks.”

Connor sniffs and nods again. He knows. He knows. He  _ knows _ . 

It wouldn’t be the same. 

They both know it wouldn’t be the same. 

They arrive at the hotel. Heidi pays the cab driver and Connor lets his hair fall in front of his face. He’s losing it. 

One of the senior guys from Harbor is hanging around the lobby, laughing with his arm around the waist of some girl Connor’s never seen before. “You good, Quitter?” He calls out, laughing. 

Connor’s shoulders collapse. He feels like he’s been stabbed. He tries to wipe his face as secretly as he can manage. He follows Heidi into the elevator. He can’t look at her. He can’t  _ look _ at her. 

“Come on,” she says, putting a hand on his shoulder. He towers over her now. When did she get so little? She guides him back to her room rather than his. 

“I’m fine,” he lies. His voice is all choked up. “You don’t have to-”

She ignores him and lets them inside her room. It’s been cleaned. The bed is made up and all of Heidi’s things are piled neatly on the dresser and desk. 

Another tear streaks down his face. 

He’s so fucking  _ stupid _ . His stomach hurts. 

He wants to die. 

“Connor…” Heidi says. Her voice is gentle. 

“No, it’s… you don’t have to explain…” She doesn’t she doesn’t she’s the parent she gets to make these calls. 

Evan probably wants to go. 

He probably asked. Asked if they could please get the fuck out of Newport. 

Because Connor’s the world’s most worthless best friend. Can’t even defend Evan properly against his asshole ex-whatever. 

She sighs heavily. “I’m not trying to take Evan away from you,” Heidi says. Her voice is smooth. Firm. 

“No, I know,” he says though he’s not sure he believes her. His voice is too high and too fake and he doesn’t think he believes her. She never wanted them to be friends. She wanted to keep Evan away from him from the moment Evan arrived. “I know.”

“But Connor. You know how hard he’s had it,” Heidi presses on. Like she needs to justify it to him. Like he’s not some stupid seventeen-year-old who is crying because he doesn’t want his best friend to move away. “He deserves more than he has in Newport. He deserves so much more.”

Connor nods quickly. He knows he knows he  _ knows _ that. Connor knows Evan’s not happy in Newport. He knows. Evan should go somewhere where he’s happy Evan shouldn’t have to be stuck somewhere as stupid as Newport Beach, he shouldn’t be stuck lying. 

Connor’s being such a fucking child about this. 

“He deserves  _ people _ , Connor,” Heidi says. Her voice shakes a little. “And all he’s got in Newport is me. And if god forbid something were to happen to me…”

Connor chokes back a sob. The tears are coming faster now. He bites his lip hard, trying to keep quiet. He needs to hold it together, damn it, this isn’t Heidi’s fucking job. 

“I don’t have anyone in Newport anymore,” Heidi says quietly. “My family’s not there, my friends…”

“You have us,” Connor offers pitifully and he knows it’s not true and he knows it’s not enough. He knows he’s making excuses. He’s just… desperate and stupid and falling apart. 

“That’s… okay,” Heidi says softly. She puts her arm around him. “I want to give him options, Connor. Options he can’t have if he’s always lying about who he is and where he’s from.”

Connor keeps nodding. He  _ knows _ this. He’s behaving like a child. He knows Evan deserves more. He knows Evan deserves to have all of the opportunity stolen away from him by circumstances outside of his control. He knows Connor’s not a reason to stick around. He’s not enough to stick around for. 

He  _ knows.  _

But Connor doesn’t want to lose him. He doesn’t want to lose Evan, to go back to being alone every fucking day. He doesn’t know if he can stand it. Stand being there all by himself. Stand to lose his best friend. He doesn’t think he can take it. 

“I know. I know h-he deserves better. He deserves  _ everything.  _ And-and if everything is here… then you should take him. You sh-should m-move. But I…” He’s crying too hard to keep talking. 

_ But I will miss him so much.  _

_ But I love him.  _

_ But it’s not fair to me.  _

Heidi wraps her arms around him tighter. “I know sweetheart. It’s hard. You’d miss him.”

Connor nods. The tears burn as they pour out. He’s so stupid. Did he really think he would get to keep Evan in his life? Is he that naive? 

Evan’s tough and smart and stronger than anybody Connor knows and he knows he shouldn’t be stuck in fucking Newport Beach with Connor in their own private bubble of misery. He knows but he doesn’t want him to go. He doesn’t want to lose him he can’t lose him maybe he’s already lost him. Maybe Evan and Liam are already planning out how they’ll spend weekends at the Smithsonian and all the cool things they can do without Evan’s bullshit broken best friend around to wreck their fun. 

Evan deserves to be a kid. Not to have to take care of everyone. Not to have to take care of himself. And he can have that here. 

Connor can’t stop crying. He’s a collapsing building, a slow-motion demolition, falling in on himself.

He’s gonna be all alone all over again. 

Obviously Evan will want to go. Obviously. He’s gonna want to go. 

Connor hates this. He hates it. 

“I j-just…” Connor tries. He’s trying to pull himself together, to be reasonable and smart and sensible, but he just. He can’t imagine life without Evan. He can’t picture it. “I just don’t want him to go…” Connor sobs pathetically on Heidi’s shoulder. “I don’t want him to g-go he’s the only real friend I’ve ever h-had. The only p-person I’ve got.”

“Oh sweetheart,” Heidi says, and she rubs his back, and it just makes him cry harder. “That’s not true. You have people. You’ve got your dad and…”

She can’t finish the lie because they both know that’s the end of the fucking list. 

He’s got his dad. Maybe. Sometimes. When he’s not fucking up. 

He’s always fucking up. 

He hates everything. It all  _ hurts  _ so much that Connor is sure it’s coming out of his pores out of his eyes. He’s losing everything and he’s supposed to be happy for them. 

He’s gonna be all alone. He’s gonna be alone again. 

Evan won’t pick him. Shouldn’t pick him. 

Nobody’s ever going to pick Connor. 

He’s an inconsiderate asshole and an inconvenience and a general fuck up. Evan shouldn’t pick him. Won’t pick him. 

He should move away. Get the fuck away from Connor and his problems and Evan’s weird need to try to help. 

Connor knows he’s beyond help. He’s got  _ everything _ and he can’t get himself together. 

He’s so fucking tired. 

He just… he’s just so tired. 

He cries and cries on Heidi’s shoulder and she keeps trying to reassure him that nothing’s set in stone, nothing’s certain but he knows it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. 

He doesn’t matter. 

Shouldn’t. Heidi and Evan are the kindest people he knows and they shouldn’t let the fact that he’s basically a walking emergency stop them from doing what they need to do to take care of each other and themselves. 

He knows he knows he knows. 

But. 

God. He doesn’t want to lose them. 

What the fuck is he going to  _ do _ if he loses them? 

How is he going to keep this up without  _ anybody _ ? 

How is he supposed to keep going all alone? He’s not good. He doesn’t do too well left to his own devices, this weekend proves it. 

He can’t take it. He can’t. 

He can’t take losing them too. 

He’s already lost his mom, lost M, lost Zoe… 

All he’s got is Evan and Heidi and his dad, when he can keep it together. 

“Just take a deep breath, sweetheart,” Heidi says, rubbing his back. “It’s all gonna be okay.” 

He tries. He swears he does. But he just ends up hiccuping and crying harder. He’s so embarrassing he’s such a mess he’s awful and Heidi’s stuck taking care of him. 

Connor’s awful awful awful. He can’t. He can’t. 

They’re gonna leave. 

Why does everybody fucking  _ leave?  _ Why is he so unwantable? So fucking broken?

“Sweetheart,” Heidi says quietly when Connor finally, finally runs out of tears. Finally shuts up. “You should try to rest.”

He nods. Gets unsteadily to his feet. He needs to leave this room so he can freak out in private.

Heidi frowns. 

“Just. Why don’t you sleep a little in here? You look dead on your feet and… I want to keep an eye on you.”

“You don’t need to do that,” he whispers. “I already ruined your day…”

She shakes her head. “You did no such thing.”

Fuck she’s not even a good liar. She ought to ask Evan for pointers. She wanted to take her kid to a museum and he  _ wrecked it.  _

Connor hangs his head. Agrees because he just can’t see himself getting back to his and Evan’s room without help. 

It’s mortifying. 

Heidi puts a steadying hand on his shoulder. Connor toes off his shoes and lets her tuck him into the big bed in her room. 

Connor sinks against the pillows. He’s so tired. He can hardly move without his body screaming in pain. He manages to snake a hand to his waist and undo his pants and pull off his belt. The belt Evan gave him for his birthday. 

The first gift Evan’s ever gotten someone. 

The first gift Connor’s ever gotten from a friend. 

Connor so badly doesn’t want to lose him. He so badly wants to keep Evan in his life but he knows that he’s being selfish, that he’s wrong for wanting this. For wanting anything at all because he has everything. Everything has been handed to him and he’s so ungrateful and miserable about it. 

Connor manages to roll onto his side with some effort. He can’t seem to stop actually crying. Tears leak out of eyes, hot and painful, dripping over his huge, ugly nose and onto the pillow. Into his hair. 

He’s never felt so goddamn alone. 

He just wants to go home. To go back before this weekend. To warn himself that he’s going to lose Evan because he stupidly fucked around with Miguel. Again. 

He’s going to lose everything because he fucked up and chose wrong again. 

He hears Heidi typing quietly in the living area of the room. She pauses every few words, like she’s listening to hear if Connor’s still fussing. Like the baby he is. 

He bites down on the soft, pale skin of his wrist to muffle himself and tries to get all of it out. All of the hurt all of the confusion and loss and sadness. 

He can’t do it. Can’t own it. 

He feels sick.

He can’t take this. He can’t take it. The tears won’t stop and he’s got to be dehydrated by now but they keep coming. 

This weekend has unearthed every disgusting thing about himself he knows to be true and his issues are struggling like pale, pathetic earthworms against the sudden light of day thrust upon him. 

He feels so sick. 

So tired. 

So broken. 

No more Evan. 

No more Heidi. 

No more mom. 

No more M. 

He’s disgusted with himself for being like this. For violently shoving away everyone who has made the mistake of caring about him. 

Connor tastes the tang of blood. 

He broke skin. 

He’s good at that. 

Connor pulls his arm away from his mouth. Tries to wipe his face quietly with his sleeves. 

And eventually, he falls asleep. 

* * *

Heidi can’t concentrate on her emails. Can’t concentrate on anything but the fact that she might have just broken Connor’s heart. 

She’s never seen him break down like that. Never seen him in so much pain. 

She hates it. A lot. 

She hates knowing that she’s caused this kid pain. This kid who she’s known since he was small, since before he was even born. 

Despite all her issues with Cynthia, despite everything that’s happened between her and the Murphys, Heidi still carries so much love for Connor in her heart. 

That hasn’t gone anywhere. She still loves this kid a whole lot. 

But not the way that she loves Evan. 

She wasn’t prepared for the way she feels about Evan. Wasn’t prepared for the fierceness, the all-consuming need to protect him and keep him safe. She definitely didn’t expect it when she first brought him home. 

But it’s the reality of the situation and she’ll do whatever it takes to give her kid an environment that’s safe. An environment where he feels safe to be who he is. 

At the end of the day, she doesn’t really care where it is, as long as he’s happy. 

It’s his choice. 

Whatever happens, it’ll be his choice. 

Evan is, as promised, back by five. His cheeks are pink from the cold and he’s subdued when she answers the door. She ushers him in and quietly tells him that Connor’s in her room, sleeping. 

“Is he okay?” Evan asks, his voice quiet and concerned. 

“He’s had a rough couple of days,” Heidi says, equally quietly. “He’s… he’s pretty upset, honey.”

Evan looks genuinely pained at that, like the thought of Connor upset causes him physical pain. Heidi’s heart clenches at the sight of it. 

Evan cares about Connor. So fucking much. 

Evan has a huge heart. 

But sometimes, it doesn’t extend to looking after himself the way it should. 

“Did you know he was in rehab?” Evan asks. 

The question is so out of the blue that Heidi’s not sure how to respond for a moment. 

“I did,” she says carefully. “What makes you ask?”

Evan frowns. “Liam… he has a chronic pain condition. He’s on pretty strong painkillers.” Heidi starts to feel a little cold, not liking where this is going. “He could tell Connor was in pain, like, physically? And offered him some oxy.” 

Heidi can tell her eyebrows are hitting her hairline. She’s about to say something when Evan rushes in to interrupt. “Liam’s not, like, a party drug guy or anything? Not at all, he just. Knows what someone in a lot of pain looks like. He’s a good dude, he wanted to help.”

Heidi nods, but she’s starting to feel a little panicked. “Did Connor take anything?” It hadn’t looked like he was high, but Heidi’s not an expert. And given how much he was crying… she could have missed it. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, how is she going to tell Larry?

“He didn’t,” Evan says firmly. “He said no.” Something sad flashes across his face. “Liam and I talked about it a bit. He… Connor told Liam that he was fifteen months clean. He didn’t take the oxy, he…” Evan lets out a breath. “I think I fucked up? Not accepting his apology this morning?”

Heidi considers. 

“I know how much what happened last night hurt you,” she says carefully. “But you’re not responsible for what Connor does.”

“I know that,” Evan says immediately, frowning. “But I…” He trails off. Closes his mouth. Frowns deeply, like he’s thinking, then continues. “Last night was bad, and he was upset, and Connor, like… doesn’t have the greatest coping mechanisms? When things are bad? And there was, like, an opportunity to use right in front of him. And he didn’t take it.” Evan bites his lip. “And last night he texted me for help, he…” Evan’s shoulders sag. He deflates a little. “He’s not good at asking for help. That’s… it’s big for him, I think. That he asked for help, that he didn’t get high?”

“It is,” Heidi says, nodding. She’s so fucking relieved to hear that. “It is a really big deal for him.”

Evan’s still frowning. His eyes are a little glassy, his nose is red. 

“I can’t just leave him,” he says, his voice soft. “He… there are so few people he can rely on, everyone keeps fucking him over and he’s trying so hard… I can’t just leave him, Heidi. I can’t just… pack up and move to D.C. with you.”

Heidi swallows hard. 

She can’t decide if she wants to pull Evan into the tightest hug imaginable or grab him by the shoulders and shake him. 

A bit of both, she thinks. 

“You’re not responsible for Connor,” Heidi says, as clearly as calmly as she can. “For what he does. I know that you care about him. That you want to be there for him. And that’s amazing. That’s a wonderful, wonderful thing. You have given him so much in the short time you’ve known each other, and no matter what you decide, that’s not going to change.”

Evan’s wearing a deep frown, looking incredibly conflicted. “I don’t want him to think I’m abandoning him. I… I can’t do that to him.”

“You’re not responsible for him,” Heidi repeats, trying to get the message across. “And you shouldn’t make decisions based on what’s best for him. You should make decisions based on what’s best for you.”

Evan’s shoulders sag. “I don’t know how to do that.”

Heidi’s heart aches. She can’t hold herself back, she has to hug him. 

“You don’t need to make any kind of decision now,” she says firmly. “Take your time. Figure out what you need. It’s early days, we don’t have to make any kind of plans for months.”

Evan sniffs against her shoulder. Nods, and holds onto her tightly. 

They hold each other for a long time. 

When Heidi goes to check on Connor, he’s fast asleep, so she and Evan head down to the hotel restaurant to get dinner. They leave a note on the bedside table in case Connor wakes up. 

After they return to the hotel room, the note is undisturbed. 

Connor’s still sleeping.

“He must be exhausted,” Heidi says sympathetically. She and Evan curl up on the sofa and watch mindless television until Evan starts yawning. 

It’s nearly ten and Connor’s been asleep the whole time. 

“I can sleep on the couch,” Evan volunteers. “And you could take one of the beds in mine and Connor’s room?”

“I don’t mind the couch,” Heidi says, but Evan shakes his head. 

“I think it’s better if I’m here when he wakes up,” Evan says, something firm in his voice. “He and I need to talk properly.”

Heidi nods. “That’s fair enough,” she says. “Hopefully he’ll keep sleeping until morning. I think he needs it.”

“We’re not flying home until after lunch,” Evan says. “Right?”

Heidi nods. “We have a late checkout. I figured we’d all be tired.”

“Okay,” says Evan. He stands up. “I’m gonna go get my stuff from my room.” He pauses. “And Connor’s stuff. So he can, like, change and whatever when he does wake up.”

“Makes sense,” says Heidi with a small smile. Evan smiles back, then heads out. 

Heidi heads into the bedroom to check in on Connor while Evan’s gone. He looks young in his sleep, but he’s frowning, and there are tear tracks on his face. It makes her heart clench painfully. 

This kid has had so much pain in his life. 

He’d had to deal with so much. 

And so has Evan. 

She wishes she could be sure that what was best for both of them was the same thing. 

But she’s not sure if she is.

* * *

Connor’s eyes feel glued shut when he wakes up. It happens gradually, the waking up part, like he needs to totally restart his system or it’ll keep crashing. Or something. 

Whatever. 

When he finally does manage to get his eyes open, Connor’s disoriented as hell. It’s dark. This isn’t his hotel room. He’s got a headache from crying and his whole body is sore and exhausted. His mouth tastes sour and his throat is extremely dry. 

He feels like shit. 

He needs to pee. 

Connor blinks a few times and forces himself to sit up. He feels wooden and hollow as he scoots off the bed and slowly takes in his surroundings. 

Heidi's room. 

Right. 

He slept here. After he cried on her. Connor glances at the clock. The digital display reads 12:34. 

One two three four. 

He always liked that. 

Connor gets up quietly. Makes his way to the bathroom to pee. Fills one of those tiny plastic hotel cups with water and drinks it down. Does it twice more, making sure his throat feels less gross and dry. 

He washes his hands and his face and heads back into Heidi’s room. His jeans are falling down his hips without his belt. He hitches them up awkwardly. 

He’ll apologize to Heidi for stealing her bed and go back to his room, Connor thinks. It wasn’t fair of him to sleep the whole damn afternoon and evening away and ruin everything. 

It’s just like him to be so damn selfish and stupid. 

When he gets out into the bedroom area, it’s not Heidi Connor finds perched on the end of the bed. It’s Evan. 

He looks tired. Sad. He’s in his pajamas, and he smiles sort of sadly at Connor when he sees him. 

“Where’s Heidi?” Connor asks, his voice muzzy with sleep still. 

“We traded rooms,” Evan offers softly. “Since you were out like a light.” 

“You could’ve woke me.” Connor feels so fucking embarrassed. “Sorry. You want the bed? I’ll just go sleep on the couch…”

Evan’s giving him a hard to read look. Connor swallows hard. “C-can we talk?”

Connor feels his heart plummet. His throat goes tight and he numbly makes his way to the bed, sitting before his legs can give out under him. 

This is it this is it this is it. 

He’s gonna tell Connor he’s moving to D.C. He’s going to say that, actually, they decided not to wait until the end of the school year because they’ve already found a house or something. He’s gonna tell Connor to quit bothering him. 

This is it this is it this is it.

“I believe you,” Evan says after a long moment. 

Connor doesn’t know what he’s even talking about, his brain is such a fuzzy strange mess. “What?” He says stupidly. 

“Y-you said you defended me. To M-Miguel. And I… I believe you.”

Connor feels his face and neck getting hot. Oh. Right. That. That feels like it was a decade ago. “You don’t have to say that.”

Evan’s face doesn’t change. “I believe you.” 

Connor nods. He pulls his knees up to his chest, wraps his arms around them. He’s freezing. “I’m really fucking sorry,” Connor practically whispers. “What he did was… was not okay and I. I am so fucking sorry.”

Evan nods curtly. “Yeah, that-that guy’s an asshole.”

Connor can’t help the way he flinches. There’s something that just hurts about the tone Evan’s using. About how right he is. He was totally right about M and Connor was too stupid to see it. Too stupid to realize because he just wanted to believe he could have M back so badly. 

“I know,” Connor says. “I’m sorry.”

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Evan says, his voice even and determined and so much stronger than it’s been the last few days. “He’s… he’s really a dick to you and-and he acts so superior to everyone and… he doesn’t deserve you.”

Connor shrugs. 

Miguel might be an asshole, but Evan’s right. 

Nobody  _ deserves  _ being stuck with Connor. 

“I really am sorry,” Connor says again. “I wasn’t trying to like… fuck up. But I did and I’m sorry. I’m really so sorry-”

“Connor,” Evan says, cutting him off. “I know.” 

Connor nods. Wipes his eyes awkwardly on his sleeve. He just feels so… raw. Like someone scrubbed off his epidermis or something. Like all of his nerves are exposed. Like one of those anatomy models without skin, just muscle and nerve and bone.

“He-he really hurt you, didn’t he?”  
Connor flinches again. “I’m fine. Really.”

Evan shakes his head. “You aren’t, though.” He seems to consider his next words very carefully. “Liam told me.” 

Connor stops breathing, he thinks. “T-told you what?” He’s trying to play dumb but he and Liam had exactly one conversation so it’s pretty fucking obvious to Connor what he would have told Evan. 

“That he offered you Oxy,” Evan says. He chews his lip for a moment. “That you said no.”

Connor stares at the pattern on the bedspread. “Y-yeah, I mean, can’t just go around taking drugs from people that’s not…”

“He says you’re fifteen months clean?” Evan says softly. 

Connor swallows hard. He feels like his heart is lodged in his throat. He nods awkwardly. 

He didn’t want Evan to know. To look at him the way he’s looking at him right now. Like he’s pitiable. Like he’s  _ that  _ pathetic. 

“I’m… Connor I-I’m really proud of you?” Evan says then. 

It’s like. The last thing he was expecting to hear. “What?” he says stupidly. 

“You had an-an obviously shitty day. And somebody up and-and offers you drugs out of nowhere, and you turned them down. That’s uh. That’s a big deal.”

* * *

Connor blinks quickly, like he’s trying not to cry. 

“Not taking drugs is kind of the bare minimum,” he mutters quietly. “It’s like… a non-event, it’s literally not doing something.”

“Bullshit,” Evan says instantly. He looks at Connor intently. “Fifteen months clean. That’s, like, fifteen months of… choosing not to do drugs, you know? Fifteen months of making that decision. It’s not… it’s not nothing. Okay? It’s not.”

Connor shrugs. He doesn’t look like he believes Evan. 

Evan really needs him to believe him right now. 

“And-and you texted me?” he continues. “Last night, you texted me. You-you asked for help and that’s definitely not nothing.”

“Shouldn’t have done it,” Connor says quietly. “I shouldn’t have called you, it’s not your job to come running to my rescue, I shouldn’t keep-”

“Asking for help is a b-big fucking deal,” Evan interrupts, because he can’t keep listening to Connor talk like this. “Okay? It’s a big deal and I d-don’t want you to not ask next time because I w-was… an asshole.”

Connor looks at him, clearly surprised. His eyes go soft. “You are not an asshole.”

“I wasn’t fair to you,” Evan says, feeling ashamed of himself. “I l-let what Miguel said about me get in my head when I knew you weren’t… you weren’t good. And then I left and I-”

“You had every right to leave,” Connor interrupts. There’s something almost resigned in his expression. “You have every right to leave, Evan, I know I’m a mess. I’m… I have no excuses for being the way I am? I grew up with everything. I didn’t lose my mom when I was seven, my dad doesn’t beat the shit out of me and he’s not in jail, I don’t have to work two jobs to help my family pay rent. I’m just… like this.”

Evan doesn’t know what to say at first. 

Tries to figure out how to explain what’s running through his head. Considers his words carefully. 

Fuck knows he’s spent far too much time this week stumbling over his words. 

“I’m n-not interested in who gets the gold medal in the tragic backstory Olympics,” Evan says after a moment. “That’s… that’s bullshit. I know Miguel likes to talk about how you don’t have real problems, likes to act like it’s some kind of competition, but it’s not. You don’t get a prize for having the shittiest time? You don’t have to… prove you have the right to feel your pain.”

Connor’s eyes flood with tears immediately. Evan hates it. 

“I wouldn’t even qualify for the tragic backstory Olympics,” Connor mutters. “Probably wouldn’t even make, like, a local competition. Not with you around.”

Evan flinches.

He… 

He hates that. A lot. 

Hates the idea that Connor pities him. 

“I wouldn’t fucking enter,” Evan replies after a moment. “If it were a competition, I wouldn’t enter. Fuck that.”

* * *

Connor opens and closes his mouth a few times. 

That’s not what he’s trying to say. 

He’s not sure what he’s trying to say. 

He’s an asshole. “I just… I mean. Like. It doesn’t  _ count.  _ My shit doesn’t like. Matter?”

“Yes,” Evan says, something defiant in the tilt of his chin. “It does.”

Connor shakes his head. “No.  _ No.  _ It’s not fair to act like-like they even compare, Evan, all the shit other people… all the shit  _ you  _ have dealt with? I’m just being a-a fucking  _ baby  _ because I’m dumb and d-don’t know how to handle my shit.”

“You think there’s s-some kind of instruction manual?” Evan says, shaking his head. “You deal with what y-you’re dealt. Nobody picks and chooses what they have to deal with.”

“But some things are objectively  _ worse, _ ” Connor protests. 

“There’s kids dying right now because of, like, wars and shit,” Evan says. “There’s still like, y’know, slavery and-and genocide. What I’ve gotten dealt doesn’t compare to-to-to that. Does it mean my shit doesn’t count?” 

“No,” Connor says fiercely. “Don’t fucking  _ say _ that.”

Evan raises his eyebrows. 

Fuck. Connor’s walked into a trap. 

“There’s not a fucking rubric for shitty lives,” Evan mutters. “You d-don’t get a score or-or a medal for getting through stuff. You just get through.” 

Connor blinks heavily. More tears escape. 

“I’m so sorry,” he basically whispers. “I’m being…”

“No,” Evan says. “That’s  _ exactly… _ you’re fine okay? You’re doing  _ fine.  _ You just. You h-hold yourself to a standard that doesn’t f-fucking exist.”

Connor’s mouth drops open. He stares. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh my g-god,” Evan says with this frustrated little laugh. “I can’t believe  _ I’m _ the one s-saying this b-b-but you apologize way too much.”

Connor feels his face heat up. 

He drops his gaze back to the bedspread. 

Clears his throat. “I’m…”  _ Damn it.  _ “He shouldn’t have said that to you. And-and I never should have used that word. I don’t even remember… but I’m sorry. For saying that ever. Okay?”

Evan reaches his foot out and lightly nudges Connor’s with it. “Okay.”

Connor takes a shaky breath. “And I’m sorry. That I didn’t tell you.” He runs a hand over his face. “About the… whole drugs thing.” He shrugs. “I’m embarrassed? About it. L-like I went to rehab for a month and… I mean I still smoke weed sometimes so it probably doesn’t even count but I haven’t done anything else since August last year.”

Evan nods. “That’s good.”

“Yeah. Maybe. I dunno.” He shakes his head. “I wanted to take the pill. When that guy… When Liam-”

“But you didn’t.”

Connor looks up at Evan for a moment. 

He feels like his heart is being crushed by one of those things they use to squish aluminum cans. Like it’s being flattened. 

Evan’s being too fucking nice. 

He’s being too nice and it’s because he feels fucking  _ sorry _ for Connor. Because he pities him. Because he’s so damn obvious and pathetic and sad and he’s freaking out about how Evan and Heidi are gonna move away. 

He saw how Evan looked at Starbucks. 

He looked interested. He looked relieved when Liam said Evan wouldn’t have to lie anymore. 

He just feels sorry for Connor because Connor is sad and lonely and needs Evan more than Evan will ever need him. 

“I…” Connor manages with his heart pounding really loudly in his ears. “Are you really gonna move here?”

He sounds so pathetic and small and kid-like. 

Evan looks surprised by the change of subject. “I… I dunno yet.”

Connor nods rapidly, looking away. “Okay…” He chokes out. 

That’s a yes. Just an extra polite one. 

“It’s just. It’s dumb and s-selfish of me to say,” Connor says. “But I  _ really  _ don’t want you to go. I’d. I would miss you so fucking much.”

* * *

Evan swallows hard. 

“I’d m-miss you, too,” he says, his voice shaking. “So fucking much.”

Connor’s shoulders sag. “You don’t have to say that,” he mumbles. “You, like, made a new friend in like three days. You’d forget all about me if you moved to D.C.”

“I would  _ not _ ,” Evan replies, his voice a little stronger than it maybe needs to be. Connor looks up at him, his eyes wide, and Evan’s compelled to continue. “You don’t… you don’t fucking get it, do you?”

Connor blinks. “Get what?”

“You’re the first person who ever had my back,” Evan tells him, taking care to make sure his words come out strong, without any hint of his fucking stutter. “You jumped in and backed me up in a fight after knowing me for, like, a day? Maybe less?” He swallows hard. “No one has ever done that for me. Ever. The kids I grew up with just wanted to watch people kick the shit out of me, or watch me fight someone else. Like a… like some kind of fucking sideshow entertainment.” He looks at Connor intently. “But you saw me getting into it with those assholes and jumped right in to help me. You didn’t even really know me, but you did it.”

“Two against one,” Connor points out, his voice deliberately light. He shrugs. “Didn’t seem fair.” He smiles a little weakly. “Plus, I just kind of wanted to kick Brian and Chad’s asses.”

“You had my back,” Evan repeats, trying to make sure the words have the weight they need. “And you kept having my back. You tried to take responsibility for the fight so I wouldn’t get kicked out. You keep… you keep trying to protect me.”

“You don’t need protecting,” Connor mutters. “You’re, like, the toughest person I know.”

“You don’t always protect people because you think they need it,” Evan says, swallowing hard. “Sometimes you do it because you care about them.” He blinks. He feels oddly vulnerable right now, like an exposed nerve, but he keeps looking at Connor because he wants him to understand. “I’m not used to people caring about me.”

Connor looks so fucking sad. “Of course I care.”

“You don’t get how much that means to me,” Evan tries to explain, something a little desperate in his voice. “You don’t. People don’t… they don’t care. Not about me. But you do, and so does Heidi, and without the two of you I’d have never survived in this crazy world of rich folks.”

Connor’s face falls. 

Evan’s hit with the sudden realization that he’s said the wrong thing. 

“You wouldn’t have to deal with the rich folks if you lived in D.C.”

Evan blinks. “Sure I would,” he points out. “Liam’s dad wants to run for fucking Senate.”

Connor looks at him strangely. “D.C. doesn’t have a Senate seat. It’s not a state.”

“They live in Maryland.”

“Oh?”

“It’s, like, right there.”

They’re both quiet for a moment. Evan looks at Connor. Watches him carefully. 

He looks exhausted. Like he’s sagging under the weight of his sadness. 

It makes Evan’s chest ache. 

“I wouldn’t forget you,” he tells Connor quietly. “I couldn’t. It’s just… not possible, okay?”

* * *

It’s nice of Evan to lie. Way too nice. 

Connor wants to tell him that. 

But he’s so tired. 

Evan’s watching him. “Go put your pajamas on,” he says suddenly. “Aren’t you uncomfortable in those tight jeans?”

Connor tries to smile. 

He gets up. 

He should go into the bathroom to change but he hasn’t got the energy. He just limps slightly over to his suitcase and grabs the first pair of pajama pants he sees. Drops his jeans and weakly kicks them off. Pulls the pajamas on and then strips off his t-shirt, which he’s noticed is sticking to him in places. 

He doesn’t realize Evan’s watching until too late. Right. 

He looks like shit. 

Connor pulls on a big t-shirt that everyone got for attending the workshop. It’s bright blue and two sizes too big for him. Maybe three. 

And then Evan’s grabbing him in a sudden and tight hug. “Fuck,” Connor mutters because it kind of hurts. 

Evan pulls away fast. “What? What did I do-?”

Connor shakes his head. 

He just bent weird to try to hug Evan back. He’s still really sore. “Nothing. I’m stupid. I’m okay.”

“He hurt you,” Evan says softly. He’s still standing so close. “You’re all bruised and… why would you let him  _ do _ that?”

Connor feels his face heat up. He’s mortified. He’s  _ not  _ talking about this with his only friend who is the straightest guy in America. “I… it didn’t really hurt at the time,” he says awkwardly. 

Now Evan’s the one blushing. “Real talk, man, I  _ really  _ don’t get that.”

Connor shrugs. “Of course not,” He says. “You’re  _ straight. _ ”

Evan nods awkwardly. “Is it… Remember when I f-found out?” Evan says, his tone sort of anxious. 

Connor nods. “Yeah.”

“You said it was okay… if I ask questions?” 

He nods again. 

“Is it… Am I still allowed to…?”

Connor nods. He feels his face getting even hotter. “Yeah, that’s. You can.”

Evan clears his throat awkwardly. “So uh. You’re the one who…” He trails off but the silence is significant. 

If Connor had had any other kind of day, he would let Evan dangle there, make him sweat it out a little. But he’s so fucking tired. “Takes it up the ass, yeah. You  _ really _ want to talk about this?”

Evan’s cheeks are so dark. “Just. D-doesn’t that… hurt? It looks like… like it must have hurt. You’re like. Limping.”

Connor shrugs. “Not always. Like. If you’re not careful?”

“Were you?” Evan asks. “With M? Last night?”

Connor frowns. Looks down at his socked feet. He’s embarrassed like he was with Heidi this morning. Yesterday? Whenever that was. “No. Not really. I’m an… idiot.”

Evan glances up at him, then looks away. “How do-do you decide who…?”

“Bottoms?” Connor offers helpfully. 

Evan nods like he’s relieved. “Yeah, like… is it just. Do you fl-flip a coin or-or play rock-paper-scissors or something?”

Connor actually laughs. It hurts a little but he laughs. “No, genius. It depends on, like. What you  _ like. _ ”

Evan’s so red Connor’s worried he might actually pass out or something. “So you… you  _ like… _ ?”

Connor nods. “Yeah.”

“Does that… I mean. Do you have to… do the same thing every time?”

Connor smiles almost. “Nah, it’s like. About. Preference. Some people like to stick with the same stuff. Some people switch. Some people, like, don’t like it and don’t do it at all.”

“Oh,” Evan says, sounding surprised. “Really?”

“I mean yeah,” Connor says. “There’s still like. Handjobs and blowjobs and rimming and whatever.”

Evan’s eyes are giant. “Rimming?”

God, Connor should not be explaining this right now. Now is  _ not  _ the time. Connor tries to keep his tone even. “Like. Oral… but. You  _ know _ .”

Evan blinks a few times. “People actually  _ do _ that?”

Connor feels his heart drop again. 

“Oh god, I’m s-sorry, that was… was a dickish thing to say, fuck, I’m sorry I’ve just - I never -”

“It’s fine,” Connor says shortly. 

“Are you okay?” Evan asks him then, breaking the awkward moment. “You just… it seems like you’re in pain and…”

“I’m fine,” Connor says shortly. “Just. Sore. Embarrassed because I was so dumb.” 

“Okay. That’s… good.”

“Yeah,” Connor says awkwardly. 

He starts to stumble toward the couch. 

“Where the hell are you g-going?” Evan says, grabbing him again. 

“Couch. You take the bed.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Evan mutters. “You’re  _ hurt. _ ”

“I’m fine,” Connor argues weakly. 

Evan basically shoves Connor back toward the bed, not terribly gently considering how worried he claims to be. 

Connor’s brain short circuits and he’s suddenly very much missing the concealing powers of denim. 

God, he is so fucked up. 

But they just had a whole conversation about the mechanics of gay sex and his brain is exhausted and stupid because Evan just threw him on a bed. 

Evan sits on the other side of the bed. “I’m not m-moving until you actually get some damn sleep.”

Connor opens his mouth to argue but. 

Well. 

He wants Evan to stay. 

So he shuts up. 

Crawls under the covers. He’s weirdly cold. It’s still warm in the bed from where he slept the day away. 

Evan pulls the covers over himself too. “What?” He says when he notices Connor watching. “I’m cold. I’ll go crash on the couch once you’re asleep.”

“Kay…” Connor mumbles. He can suddenly barely keep his eyes open. 

“I r-really missed you, you know,” Evan says softly after a few minutes. Maybe a few hours or days. Connor doesn’t know. 

“Was right here,” Connor replies sleepily. “Been here. The whole time.”

“No,” Evan says. “You weren’t. Not really.”

Connor opens his mouth to apologize but he drifts off before he finds the words. 

  
  


Connor wakes up when the room is lighter. He still feels exhausted but he feels less… raw. 

He blinks himself awake. 

Evan’s curled up around him. His head is pressed against Connor’s shoulder. His arms are wrapped firmly around Connor’s middle. His legs are pressed to the backs of Connor’s. 

His hips are flush with Connor’s. 

Connor feels himself start to blush as he realizes. 

Evan’s. 

Clearly still asleep. It doesn’t mean anything. 

But his heart starts to pound anyway. 

He’s dreamt of stuff like this. Being held. Being wanted. 

Evan’s still asleep. His body is just. Reacting to the warmth or whatever. Maybe it thinks Connor’s a girl. Maybe he’s dreaming about Connor’s sister. 

Connor scoots away carefully. Goes to pee and wash his face. 

When he gets back, Evan’s stolen Connor’s pillow. Buried his face in it. 

Connor watches him sleep for a little bit. Like the freak he clearly is. 

Evan’s going to leave. 

He should move to D.C. 

He should get the fresh start he fucking deserves. 

Connor can’t stand in his way. It wouldn’t be  _ fair.  _ He needs to… keep his distance. Let Evan ease into forgetting him. Because he’s stubborn and he’ll hang on just because he said he would. 

Connor goes and curls up on the sofa. It’s still early, not even five yet. 

He falls asleep fast. 

Their flight is in the afternoon. They go to have breakfast in the breakfast room before they head to the airport. Connor grabs a giant bowl of blueberries when he goes up to the buffet. He sits beside Evan gingerly. Slides the bowl toward him. “Want some?”

Evan smiles at him and Connor’s heart does backflips. 

They sit together on the plane. Share Connor’s iPod headphones. 

Evan falls asleep on the plane and Connor takes his earbud out so he doesn’t accidentally wake him. 

He goes into his new journal and starts sketching out how he’ll say goodbye when it inevitably comes. He should at least give Evan something worth remembering before he forgets Connor for good. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "Lying Is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off" by Panic! At The Disco.


	30. You Only Hold Me Up Like This ‘Cause You Don't Know Who I Really Am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoe takes matters into her own hands. Evan doesn't know what the hell he's doing. Connor is not pleased with new developments.

It’s weird being back in Newport. 

Back in California. 

Evan’s never noticed how different the weather is before. Never had anything to compare it to. It’s so much warmer here than it is in D.C. and that’s a strange thing to realize. 

Being back in Newport doesn’t feel like home. It doesn’t feel like being home. 

Evan’s not sure what home even is. 

It might be Heidi, but Heidi’s work seems to have ramped up. Seems to have gotten more and more busy. She’s working longer hours. Working on the weekend more often. 

He spends a lot of time alone. 

Not that he’s not used to being alone, it’s just… different. 

Being alone in a huge, fancy house is different to being alone in Mark and Elaine’s crappy apartment or hiding away in the library. 

He’s not alone all the time. Connor’s around sometimes. They’ll study and talk and listen to music or whatever, which Evan’s stupidly grateful for. 

But it feels like Connor’s pulling away. 

Things haven’t been the same since D.C. 

Part of Evan’s not surprised. He’s still ashamed of how he totally freaked out on Connor, chewed him out for not defending him to Miguel, which is just so fucking selfish and stupid of him. Connor kept apologizing and apologizing, which just made Evan feel worse, because it’s not his shit to apologize for. It’s not his fault at all. 

Connor was so excited to go to D.C. for this workshop and it all blew up in his face. 

It’s not fucking fair. 

Not fair that Connor can’t catch a fucking break. 

Evan doesn’t know how to reach his friend, how to get him to stop beating himself up. How to get him to stop… holding himself back. 

_ You need to get a fucking grip, _ says the voice in his head.  _ He’s probably realized how much of a fucking disaster you are and is trying to keep his distance.  _

The voice in his head has been extra brutal recently. 

It’s fucking exhausting. 

Zoe watches him a lot during study hall these days, Evan realizes. He doesn’t know how he feels about it. She talks to him a bit, sure, but mostly she’s just… watching. 

Like she’s waiting for him to do something. 

If he were normal, he’d know what to do. They kissed at cotillion and she gave him a Christmas present and smiled at him and for a moment there at Christmas it seemed like they were going to kiss but then Evan chickened out and…

There’s something he’s missing. Something he isn’t doing right because he’s fucking broken and has all these bullshit hangups about sex, about any kind of intimacy, and Zoe’s beautiful and clearly experienced. 

Not that he’s calling her a slut or anything. He’s not. 

She’s not. She’s…

Zoe confuses him. A lot. She’s beautiful, one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever met, and she doesn’t make fun of his stutter. Doesn’t act like he’s a loser. She thinks he’s Heidi’s nephew, this soft-spoken kid in preppy clothes from Seattle, and she likes that. 

Likes the person he’s  _ pretending  _ to be. 

She doesn’t like it when who he actually is seeps through. Like when he got into a fight with Brian and Chad, or when he punched Jared. 

The Evan Zoe wants isn’t stupid and rash and itching for a fight. 

The Evan Zoe wants is…

He’s not a hundred percent sure he knows who that guy is. 

Or how to be him. 

Or what she expects from him. 

Connor drives them home the week after their trip to D.C. and doesn’t give a straight answer when he turns down Evan’s offer to come over and study. Just mumbles something about not being up to it. He drops Evan off at the bottom of the shared driveway and tells him he’ll see him tomorrow, his face pale and his eyes sad. 

Evan doesn’t know what to do. 

Doesn’t know how to call him on this. 

He walks up to the too-big, hauntingly empty house and is hit with the urge to just… cry. It comes out of nowhere and is completely unexpected. 

He feels alone. 

Completely alone. 

It’s… 

It’s so stupid, he’s got more people than he ever has before. Just because Heidi’s busy and Connor’s being weird doesn’t mean he’s alone, fuck. 

He’s getting soft. Getting complacent. 

Letting himself want too much. 

He goes to the downstairs bathroom and washes his face, trying to feel a little more normal. A little more in control of things. 

_ Get a grip, asshole,  _ the voice in his head sneers.  _ It’d be just like you to fucking lose it now, just when things are actually good. Do you want to ruin everything, you ungrateful asshole? _

The doorbell rings. 

His heart leaps a little. Maybe it’s Connor. Maybe he’s changed his mind. 

When he answers the door, it’s not Connor standing there. 

It’s Zoe. 

She’s all dressed up. In a different outfit to the one she wore to school. 

Her hair is curled and her makeup is done and she’s wearing this skirt that shows off her hips, a top that shows off her boobs, and she looks…

Really good. 

Really, really good. 

“Hey Evan,” says Zoe, something flirtatious in her tone. “Got a question for you.”

Evan swallows hard. Tries very hard not to stare at her chest. “Yeah?” he manages to say, his throat dry. 

Zoe leans in closer. Puts her hand on his chest. 

“I was wondering when you’re going to get it together and finally ask me out.”

* * *

Zoe’s getting impatient. 

What the hell is taking Evan so damn long?

It’s been almost a month since cotillion and he still hasn’t asked her out. 

“Maybe he’s gay?” Madison offers, not-helpfully at lunch. “He hangs out with Quitter enough. Maybe it rubbed off on him.”

Zoe opens her mouth to tell Madison to  _ stop  _ calling Connor that for the millionth time but decides against it. It’s a losing battle. 

She needs to pick her battles better. 

She’s still got a lot of damage control to do after the cotillion debacle. 

Sabrina’s picking at her salad and not saying much. Zoe knows she feels weird about the Evan stuff, but Zoe just can’t seem to stop harping on it. It’s like word vomit. She opens her mouth and she’s complaining about his lack of action all over again. 

He better not be fucking gay, Zoe thinks. She’d have to change schools if he was. 

She tries to focus on whatever Evan’s damage is because it’s easier than the other stuff going on with her. 

Like the fact that her dad seems to think he needs to crack down on her going out. He’s told her she can’t go to parties like twice now. He tried to keep her home on New Year's Eve, which was just not acceptable. Keeps telling her he doesn’t “like that Madison.”

Zoe’s getting fed up. 

She ended up hitting Jared up for a few supplies in the interim. Eventually Connor’s going to notice someone has been smoking his weed stashed in the pool house. Jared’s happy to oblige and offers her more than she asks for. She tells him to fuck off. She’s not a junkie like her brother. She just sometimes needs something to take the edge off. A little pot, a little oxy, a few xanies. Just so she’s not stuck having to brave family therapy with her mom totally sober anymore. 

That’s a fucking joke on its own. 

Her mom has gotten weirdly into crocheting in rehab. She keeps sending Zoe home with these ugly misshapen hats and scarves. 

Which like. They live in  _ Orange County. _ It does not get cold enough to warrant that kind of gear. She stashes them all in her closet and tries to forget about them. 

Connor’s been in a fucking  _ mood  _ since getting back from D.C. From what Zoe’s been able to overhear her dad saying on the phone, he bumped into his old roommate from Hanover. They got into a fight. 

Zoe connects the dots. 

M. The guy Connor was always calling over the summer. 

She wonders if they were like a thing. But she doesn’t ask because she’s not about to sympathize with her freak brother. 

He’s also being weird and coming home a lot instead of hanging out with Evan. Which really should make Zoe happy because she’s so fucking tired of them being all over each other all of the time, but like. Connor’s been pouty and irritable ever since D.C. 

He keeps yelling at their mom in therapy too which isn’t productive in Zoe’s opinion. He keeps making her  _ cry.  _

It’s an asshole move. Even for Connor who is a Grade-A asshole. 

And then there’s Sabrina…

They’ve been messing around a lot more. Sabrina keeps acting like Zoe’s… 

She doesn’t know. 

But she holds her hand sometimes when nobody else is around. Throws her arms around her. She’s hugged Zoe while she’s freaked out a few times lately. Kissed her cheeks and forehead and told her it was all okay. 

She changes the subject whenever Evan comes up. Zoe can tell she’s like. Uncomfortable about it. She got sort of upset when Zoe suggested maybe Sabrina ought to consider going out with one of the senior guys who they all tangentially know. 

Well. 

She didn’t say anything but she could tell. Sabrina got all quiet and withdrawn and didn’t text Zoe back for a couple of days. So Zoe hasn’t brought it up again. 

All Zoe wants is to focus on something  _ normal.  _ And obsessing over why her cotillion escort hasn’t asked her out yet is  _ normal.  _ It’s the only normal thing she’s got left. 

She watches Evan all through study hall that week. For a sign that he might make a damn move. 

Nothing. He just kind of smiles awkwardly at her and it is infuriating. 

She can’t take it anymore, Zoe decides one day at the end of school. She’s got to do something about this or she’s going to actually lose her mind. 

She and her dad are the only non-crazy people in the family so she can’t go losing her shit and leaving him outnumbered. 

She goes home and fixes her hair. Reapplies her makeup and changes clothes. A spaghetti strap top with no bra. That skirt she’s noticed Evan always checks her out in when she wears it. 

Then Zoe marches over to Heidi’s place and rings the bell. Evan comes to the door quickly. Like maybe he’s been waiting for someone. 

“Hey Evan,” says Zoe, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “Got a question for you.”

Evan swallows audibly. He’s totally looking down her top. Zoe’s counting that as a success. “Yeah?” he says, his voice all rough and sort of sexy. 

Zoe leans in closer to give him a better view of the goods. One of her straps slips off of her shoulder. She deliberately places her hand on his chest, just rests it there. She thinks for a moment she might be able to feel his heart beating faster. 

“I was wondering when you’re going to get it together and finally ask me out.”

Evan stares at her. His mouth is slightly open. 

Zoe thinks she might have broken him. 

Well. At least that’s something. 

“I-I…” Evan trails off. His eyes dip down to her boobs for the briefest second and then he’s blushing and looking at her face, like it’s the sun, like it’s too bright to actually look at. “I’m s-s-sorry. I’m. I’m r-really bad at this?”

_ No shit,  _ Zoe thinks. She raises her eyebrows. 

Evan keeps staring. 

She’s giving him the perfect opportunity and he’s not fucking taking it. 

“Well?” Zoe presses and she can’t keep up the cute-and-flirty thing because she’s  _ embarrassed  _ now he’s not gonna do it he’s not going to ask her out she might as well ask to be sent to fucking boarding school at this rate this is  _ humiliating.  _ She looks good, she’s giving him a chance and he’s not. Fucking. Taking it. 

She takes her hand off of his chest. 

Takes a step back trying to come up with something bitchy to say. She can’t believe he’s not asking her out. She can’t believe it. 

“Wait! Wait, h-h-hang on. W-would you…?” Evan says just as Zoe is about to storm off. 

Zoe crosses her arms over her chest. Both because she’s pissed and because it pushes up her tits. 

And he notices. He clearly notices. 

“Will you go out with me?” Evan blurts. His face is pink and he looks so damn awkward, he directs the question at her feet because he can’t look at her. 

_ Finally.  _

“I dunno,” Zoe says, her voice an exaggeration of uncertainty. “It took you an awfully  _ long  _ time to ask.”

Evan’s cheeks go even darker. His eyebrows knit together and she hears him whisper “fuck.” He looks her in the face, his eyes big and determined. “Zoe. I’m… I’m sorry I’ve been a-a shithead. Will you please go out with me?”

Zoe smiles. 

Success. 

“I’m free on Friday night,” she says lightly. 

Evan doesn’t relax. “Is that… is-is that a yes or…?”

“Yes,” Zoe says with a smile. “That’s a yes.”

Evan lets out a breath and his whole posture relaxes. “Okay. Fr-Friday?”

“Friday sounds good.” 

Zoe takes a few steps closer. 

Kisses Evan on the cheek. 

And says quietly, “Can’t wait to see what you have planned.”

Then she strides away. She makes sure to exaggerate the swing of her hips as she does just to be certain he’s looking at her. 

****

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

Evan doesn’t know what he’s doing. 

Has no idea what he’s doing. 

Going on a date with Zoe on Friday, apparently. 

A date he is apparently expected to plan. 

What the fuck. 

What the fuck. 

What the fuck. 

Okay. Fuck. Okay. 

He can do this. He can be normal, he can  _ do  _ this, he…

He’s got some money saved. He can take Zoe on a date. 

Where the fuck do you go on a date what do you do on a date how do you date what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck?

What. The. Fuck. 

He can’t believe she just, like… showed up and asked him out. 

Got him to ask her out, rather. 

She didn’t ask him out, she just… made it clear that she expected  _ him  _ to do it. 

Has been expecting him to do it for  _ ages _ . 

Weeks. 

Fuck. 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck. 

He has no idea what it’s doing. No fucking clue, he’s such a fucking disaster, he…

He doesn’t know how to do this. Doesn’t know what to do, how to act, what to say what to do what to do fuck fuck fuck fuck  _ fuck _ . 

In desperation, he gets out David’s old laptop and types ‘what do you do on a date’ in the search engine. 

Starts reading. 

Dress nice. It shows you care. 

Okay, he can do that, he can do that. 

Listen. Pay attention when they talk. 

Okay, sure, he can do that too. 

That’s fine, that’s… that’s okay, but what do you do, where do you go, what happens? 

What the fuck is supposed to happen? 

He’s never done this before. Never. He’s going to fuck this up and Zoe will never speak to him again and Connor will be pissed that he hurt his sister and…

Oh god. 

Oh god oh god oh god Connor’s going to be so fucking pissed. 

So pissed Evan asked Zoe out. 

Fuck. 

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. 

He can’t un-ask her out, fuck. She’d probably, like, punch him in the face if he tried to take it back. 

Fuck. 

His hands are shaking and he feels like screaming, like completely losing it, because he’s going to fuck this up. He’s going to ruin everything, going to hurt everyone because that’s what he does, that’s who he is, he can’t do this he can’t he can’t he can’t-

The front door opens. 

“I brought Chinese!” calls Heidi as she comes into the kitchen. “Sorry I’m late, sweetheart, I’ve been super busy.” She stops in her tracks and looks at him, eyes widening in alarm. “Evan, honey, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he ventures. Heidi puts the bags of food down, clearly unconvinced. Comes to sit next to him at the kitchen table. 

“Spill,” she says kindly. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“I’m taking Zoe Murphy on a date,” he says bluntly. “On Friday.”

Heidi’s eyebrows hit her hairline. “Wow. She asked you out?”

Evan looks at her helplessly. “Um, n-no, I asked her out, b-but only once she asked me why I hadn’t already? And then she said she couldn’t wait to see what I had planned and… I have  _ nothing  _ planned! I don’t know how to pl-plan a date? I’ve never b-been on one, this is going to be a t-total disaster.”

Heidi smiles at him sympathetically. “Did I ever tell you about my first date with David?” Evan shakes his head. “He was super nervous? We went to this diner - that one near the beach house where we go sometimes? And he kept, like, trying to work up the nerve to hold my hand, I think? Because his hands were just… always moving, across the table.”

Great. Now he has to worry about what the fuck he’s going to do with his  _ hands _ . 

“Anyway,” Heidi continues with a smile. “So he finally reaches over, touches my hand, and knocks over the  _ entire  _ jug of water, all over me.”

“Oh my god,” Evan replies, horrified at the idea. 

Heidi grins. “I was wearing a white shirt.”

“Oh my  _ god _ .”

Heidi laughs. “He was so embarrassed? Kept apologizing. Gave me his jacket.” Her grin softens. “After we finished our meals, we went for a walk along the beach. And he apologized another hundred times, made sure I was warm enough and… he kissed me.” Her eyes go a little far away. “That’s when I knew he was it for me. Right there, on the beach, in a soaking wet t-shirt and his jacket.” 

Evan swallows hard. He never complains when Heidi talks about David. He wants her to be able to talk about him. But it makes him so sad, the knowledge that she doesn’t have him anymore. 

It breaks his heart. 

“So if I want this to work, I n-need to pour a jug of water on her?” he jokes weakly. 

Heidi laughs. Seems to come back to the conversation. “I think that’s optional,” she replies with a grin. “What I  _ am  _ trying to say, though, is that if it’s with the right person? Even the worst date can be amazing.” Her face goes soft. “When you’re with the right person, it’s like… the rest of the world falls away.”

Evan nods. Bites his lip. 

He doesn’t know if he can do this. He doesn’t feel any more confident. 

But he  _ likes  _ Zoe. She’s beautiful and sweet and…

Maybe she could be the right person. 

Maybe Zoe being the right person can make up for the fact that Evan’s wrong in every possible way. 

***

Connor’s dad has been doing this weird fucking “family dinner” thing since his mom went off to rehab. It’s not like the dinners they had before that his mom would make. 

His dad makes them cook together. 

Which is weird but does kind of make actually eating the food… easier. A little. 

He feels kind of like this is a stupid thing to be proud of, but Connor has not skipped a single meal since D.C. 

He still can’t really, like. Eat. But he’s trying. 

Trying to keep his fucking distance from Evan too. Just so he doesn’t make this shit harder. 

But maybe if Evan sees he’s not a total fuck up…

That’s a dumb reason to eat but whatever. 

He’s actually  _ hungry  _ by the time he and his dad start putting food together that night. 

Zoe’s participation has been sort of half-assed in Connor’s opinion. She doesn’t always show until the food is on the table. And then there’s nights like tonight where all she’s done is dress a salad and then she plays on her phone while Connor and his dad like. Handle the actual food. She’s weirdly dressed up for dinner at home. She’s got a lot of makeup on and Connor can see the sparkle of a new ring in her belly button. 

God Connor is a fucking freak for noticing his sister’s belly button what the fuck. 

He goes back to chopping up an onion for dinner. 

Tonight it’s some lemon chicken thing or whatever. There’s a lot of vegetables involved. 

Lemons are probably good. Connor sort of wants to text Evan and ask him what lemons are good for but then he remembers he’s trying to leave the poor kid alone so he can. Leave. Or whatever. 

They all sit down to eat at the kitchen’s breakfast bar. They haven’t really been eating in the dining room. 

It’s sort of nice. 

Connor eats half a piece of chicken, some vegetables and almost all of his side salad. 

“So dad,” Zoe says suddenly. “Can I have some money to go shopping?”

Their dad chews the rest of the food in his mouth before answering. “What do you need to go shopping for?”

“I need a new outfit,” Zoe says. 

“You just got all those clothes for Christmas,” Connor mutters. He stabs at another piece of chicken and stares it down before he puts it in his mouth. 

“Yeah but I’ve already worn those,” Zoe says like Connor is  _ extremely  _ stupid. “I can’t repeat an outfit for my date with Evan on Friday.”

Connor chokes on the bite he’s chewing. Spits it out into a napkin while his dad thumps him hard on the back. 

Evan and Zoe are going on a date? 

Since  _ when _ ? 

Their dad smiles. “Ah, so he finally asked you out then,” he says, kind of laughing. “I was starting to think he didn’t have it in him.”

So was Connor. 

Fuck. 

“Yeah, he asked me earlier today,” Zoe says breezily. “I’m excited. He’s  _ so  _ cute.”

Connor is gripping his fork with so much force he feels it start to bend. 

“Don’t you think so Connor?” Zoe inquires, all faux-innocently. “Isn’t Evan  _ cute? _ ”

Connor’s gonna kill her. 

He’s gonna stab her with this fucking fork. 

Their dad is staring at Connor like he knows he’s planning a murder. Like he’s about to jump in and try to smooth it over. 

“I guess,” Connor chokes out. His knuckles are white. “If you’re into… polos.”

She knows. She fucking  _ knows.  _

He’s been so fucking careful not to look like a pathetic lovesick puppy and his sister fucking knows anyway. 

“Oh I  _ am, _ ” Zoe says, smiling this kind of feral smile. “You should think about wearing one. Think it would get you some attention from the  _ right _ people at school for a change.” 

Damn it damn it damn it  _ damn _ it. 

Their dad looks between them nervously. 

Connor wants to leave so badly but he cannot fucking let Zoe win this. 

“I got some strawberries at the store?” Their dad says. Like it’s a question. “Anybody want those for dessert?”

“Yes,” Connor says savagely and Zoe’s eyebrows go up. Like she wasn’t expecting him to stick this out. 

“Me too,” Zoe says loftily. “I love strawberries.”

Connor’s gonna fucking kill her. He’s actually going to kill her. 

She’s a bitch she’s an asshole she’s a fucking  _ cunt  _ and he hates her he hates her he hates her. 

Connor regrets the strawberries immediately. They give him an awful stomach ache and make his teeth hurt and Zoe eats more of them than he does anyway before she skips up to her room with a hundred bucks clenched in her hand. 

His dad looks at Connor questioningly. 

Connor will  _ die  _ if he tries to talk to him about it. 

He’ll die. 

“So… did you know about this?”

“Nope,” Connor says, praying he sounds bored and not fucking devastated. He didn’t know. He had no idea. He’s always getting blindsided these days. Walking right into shit because he’s stupid and myopic and an asshole. 

“Well. If you need to…”

“I am  _ not  _ talking about this with you,” Connor says, getting to his feet. He can’t. He absolutely cannot. If he opens his mouth it’ll all come out, the whole thing, the overwhelming enormity of what he feels when he looks at Evan, the fact that he has got to stay away or else Evan will stick around and be miserable here, the fact that nobody will ever want Connor anyways, it’s so obvious, even his own  _ mother  _ hates him, so what’s the point in being sad that his sister is going out with his best friend… it’ll all pour out of him. He’ll start screaming and never stop. 

His dad’s smile falters. “I… Come on Connor, you gotta help me out here. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.”

“Nothing, I think,” Connor says darkly. 

“I thought you liked that other guy,” his dad says, kind of darkly. “Miguel? Heidi says you two bumped into each other at the thing in D.C.”

Connor’s heart drops to his shoes. 

His dad knows about him and M?

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck. What the fuck did Heidi tell him? His face burns with shame, remembering Heidi asking if he has at least been smart enough to use a condom. If she told his dad that, Connor’s gonna fucking drop dead of embarrassment. 

“No. That’s…” Connor shakes his head. “And I don’t even like Evan so.”

His dad looks sad. “It’s okay if you-“

“Yeah well, I don't. So.”

His dad heaves a sigh. “I know it can be hard, bud. When the person you like likes someone else.”

Connor scoffs. “Yeah sorry, this isn’t about you and mom so.”

He doesn’t know why he says it. They don’t ever talk about it. It’s an open secret. That his mom always had a thing for David, even after they married other people. 

They don’t talk about it. Connor doesn’t know why he said it. 

His dad’s face goes pale. 

He clears his throat. 

Starts collecting the dishes. 

Connor’s fucked up. Damn it damn it why is he such a fucking  _ asshole?  _

“Don’t you have homework?” His dad says when Connor just keeps standing there. 

Connor takes that as a dismissal. He hurried upstairs. Zoe’s on the phone with someone saying, “I know! I was starting to think he wouldn’t ever do it!”

Connor locks himself in the bathroom and throws up his dinner. 

Fuck this. Fuck everyone. 

Fuck. 

* * *

The waves are pretty tonight. 

Kind of quiet and calm, not stormy and overwhelming. 

There’s an arm around his shoulder. A heartbeat under his head. 

“It’s nice out,” says Connor quietly, and Evan can feel the vibration of his voice from where his head is resting on his chest. 

“Yeah,” says Evan, equally quietly. “Pretty.”

“Really pretty,” says Connor, and there’s something strange in his voice. 

Evan looks up at him. His eyes are dark like the ocean at night. 

“Do you want to go inside?” Evan asks. 

Connor considers. “Not yet,” he says. Presses a kiss to the top of Evan’s head. “Unless you’re cold?”

“No,” Evan replies, sitting up properly. 

Looking at Connor properly. 

“It’s just that we’re alone,” he continues, by way of explanation. “No point wasting time sitting out here.”

Connor’s eyes flash with interest, but he’s smiling. “Hanging out with you isn’t a waste of time,” he says. 

And then he’s kissing him, and it’s warm and soft and nice, and Evan knows what he’s doing. Doesn’t feel like he’s getting it wrong, doesn’t feel out of place and weird, because Connor never makes him feel out of place and weird. 

Evan shifts to get closer, wrapping his arms around Connor’s skinny frame to pull him closer, and he’s shivering a little bit. 

“You’re cold,” Evan says after a moment. 

Connor looks at him intently. “I’m not,” he promises, and he’s kissing Evan again. He breaks away to kiss his neck. “I’m not,” he continues, “but if you wanted to go inside, I wouldn’t say no.”

“No?” asks Evan teasingly. 

Connor grins at him. Rolls his eyes. His cheeks go a little pink. 

“It would kind of ruin the mood if I fell off this thing,” Connor says, gesturing to the loveseat. 

Evan kisses him. 

His lips are kind of chapped, but they’re warm and nice and he looks really pretty when he pulls away, eyes big, lips red. 

Then they’re in Evan’s room and Connor’s hands are around Evan’s middle, his fingers brushing along Evan’s stomach, along the bottom of his shirt. “Can I?” Connor asks breathlessly. 

Evan nods. 

Connor takes off Evan’s shirt. Kisses his neck, his collarbone. 

“I’ve wanted to do this since the moment I saw you,” Connor says, sounding a little like he can’t quite believe this is happening. “Wanted you since the first moment I saw you.”

Evan pulls him on top of him, needing the feeling of him pressed against him. “You have me,” Evan assures him, before flipping him over and straddling him, going to take off Connor’s shirt. “This okay?”

“Perfect,” Connor replies, and they’re kissing again. 

Connor’s touching him, and his hands are cold but they feel amazing and Evan can barely think, can barely focus, and part of him can’t believe this is happening but it also feels like maybe it should have happened months ago. 

All this time, Evan could have had  _ this _ . Connor pressed up against him, touching him, kissing him, warm and alive and beautiful-

Evan opens his eyes. 

His heart is pounding too fast in his chest. 

It takes him a moment to get his bearings. 

A moment to realize he’s not at the beach house, he’s not with Connor, he’s…

He’s at Heidi’s. In his room in the main house, and…

What. 

What the fuck. 

What the actual fuck what the fuck. 

That…

No, what the fuck. 

No. 

Just… 

What?

He notices with irritation that his body doesn’t seem to have gotten the memo that he’s not fucking gay, that he has no desire to make out with his best friend, that he is going on a date with his best friend’s  _ sister _ what the fuck. 

What the  _ fuck _ . 

He goes to the bathroom. Washes his face, brushes his teeth. Looks at his reflection in the mirror, searching for signs of having somehow… woken up gay. 

What the fuck what the fuck. 

His date with Zoe is tomorrow night. 

It’s 2am, according to his watch, what the  _ fuck _ . 

Correction. His date with Zoe is tonight. 

And his subconscious, apparently, wants to fuck with him. Wants to fuck everything up for him, because of course it fucking does. Of course it does, why should he expect anything else?

Just because Connor’s gay doesn’t mean he wants Evan. 

Evan is… probably not his type, let’s be real. He’s not cool and skinny like Miguel, he’s kind of… sturdy and boring. 

_ Focusing on whether or not you’re his type is pretty fucking gay, dude, _ the voice in his head reminds him. _ And you know what’s going to happen if you’re gay.  _

His stomach goes cold. 

His whole body goes cold. 

At least that takes care of his boner, fucking hell, because now he’s shaking with fear, trembling like a stupid kid because he’s freaking out that his dad’s going to kill him. 

His dad, who he hasn’t seen in months, who doesn’t want him, who signed over guardianship, who he’ll never see again. 

_ “You turn out to be a faggot, I’ll fucking kill you. You hear me? I’ll  _ kill  _ you.” _

That’s… 

No. 

No, he’s not gay, and even if he were, it wouldn’t…

Fuck. 

Fuck, he’s so fucked up, he’s so stupid why is he so stupid?

His brain is doing weird shit. He’s letting his dad get in his head. He’s getting all mixed up because he’s nervous about this date and he misses Connor in a totally platonic heterosexual way because Connor’s not talking to him as much since D.C. because Evan was a dick to him and it’s… fucking with his head. 

Making his subconscious churn out weird sappy gay bullshit that…

_ “You turn out to be a faggot, I’ll fucking kill you.” _

That’s not who he is. 

It isn’t. 

It’s fucked up that he’s afraid, but it’s… 

Not who he is. 

It takes a while to stop shaking, but when he does, he curls up in bed and tries to get some more damn sleep. 

It doesn’t work. 

He lies awake and watches the rising sun turn the room from dark to dishwater gray. 

*** 

Sabrina doesn’t want to be here right now.

Not really. She does not want to be helping Zoe get ready for a date with Evan. 

But Zoe asked, and Sabrina is stupid and has a hard time saying no to her, so here she is, watching Zoe try on outfit after outfit, despite the fact that they were at the mall yesterday for  _ three fucking hours _ picking out a dress for this date that Zoe’s now decided is all wrong for whatever reason. 

Those three hours were torture. 

This is worse. This is so much worse. 

Sabrina knows she’s being a total bitch about this and she’s really trying not to be. It just sucks, watching Zoe basically throw herself at this guy. Fucks with her head that when they’re alone, Zoe will kiss her and touch her and make her feel amazing and wanted and special and then just, like, turn around and talk about how cute Evan is. 

“It’s so lame that I have to drive us,” Zoe says as she changes yet again into this sparkly blue halter top and a pair of low rise jeans that show off her hips. 

Sabrina’s not about to point it out, but there’s a tiny bruise on her hip, the size of a fingerprint. 

She takes some satisfaction in knowing it was her. 

Knowing that she’s left some kind of proof that she was there. 

Fuck. That’s so fucking weird and possessive, fuck. 

“Evan’s taken, like, one driver’s ed class,” Sabrina points out, trying not to sound annoyed. “Alana told me that he’s nervous as hell. There’s no way you want him behind the wheel until he knows what he’s doing.”

Zoe scowls a little at the mention of Alana. “She’s still taking driver’s ed?” says Zoe snidely. “I thought Alana Beck knew everything.”

“Don’t be a bitch,” Sabrina says immediately. “Alana’s kind of sensitive about the whole not being able to drive yet thing, okay?”

Zoe rolls her eyes. “Please. Alana Beck is basically a robot. She has three modes: know-it-all, self-righteous killjoy, and useless dyke.”

Sabrina doesn’t want to lose her shit. 

She is absolutely going to lose her shit if Zoe keeps being such a bitch about Alana. 

“Okay, what is your problem with Alana?” she demands. 

“My problem,” says Zoe irritably, “is that she’s a know-it-all, self-righteous killjoy, useless dyke.”

“Don’t fucking say that,” snaps Sabrina. “Don’t talk about people that way. Especially not…”

She trails off. 

Wisely keeps her mouth shut. 

Zoe’s nostrils flare in annoyance. She puts on some lip gloss. Flutters her eyelashes at her reflection. Turns to face Sabrina. 

“Be honest,” she says, clearly changing the subject. “Do you think Evan’s going to want to fuck me in this outfit?”

Sabrina feels like someone’s just reached into her chest and ripped out her heart. 

“He’s a teenage boy,” Sabrina replies as flippantly as she can. “He’ll fuck anything.”

Zoe glares at her. “I’m just so over being a virgin,” she says, her cheeks turning a little pink. “It’s so embarrassing.”

Sabrina blinks. “I mean,” she says cautiously, “are you?”

Zoe raises her eyebrows. “I’ve never slept with a _ guy,  _ so yeah.” Sabrina bites her lip. Zoe sighs. “You know it doesn’t count. You and me. It… it doesn’t count.”

Sabrina feels her eyes sting. She absolutely cannot cry, she spent like half an hour on her eyeliner this morning. 

Zoe had told her first period that it looked fierce, then pulled her into a stall in the girl’s bathroom to make out with her for a bit during lunch. 

“Right,” says Sabrina, swallowing hard. 

Zoe blinks. Frowns a little. “It’s just practice,” she says, her voice gentle like she’s trying to explain something to a very young, very stupid child. “It’s good that we know what we’re doing, so we don’t embarrass ourselves when we get to the real thing.”

The real thing. 

Right. 

Because this… 

What she and Zoe are doing isn’t real. 

Not to Zoe. 

But it’s real to her, Sabrina realizes with a sinking feeling. 

It’s…

Shit. 

It’s really real to her, it’s…

Zoe runs her hand through her hair. She’s straightened her hair and it’s so much longer than it usually is, falling over her hair in silky strands. 

It looks soft. Sabrina wants to touch it. So fucking badly. 

Zoe lets out a huff of frustration. “Fuck,” she says quietly. “I need to get my roots touched up, fuck. I should have booked an appointment before the date.”

“Evan’s not going to notice,” Sabrina points out. “Guys don’t notice that shit.”

Zoe turns around and faces her. Bites her lip. 

“I’m nervous,” she says, her voice quiet and hesitant. “I know it’s dumb to be nervous, because he’s, like… sweet and nice and totally more afraid of me than I am of him, but… I’m really fucking nervous. So could you, like, not be all weird on me?”

Sabrina blinks a few times. 

“Sure,” she says after a moment. “Sorry.”

Zoe flops back down on the bed. Her hair fans out around her like a halo. 

She looks so beautiful. 

Zoe rubs her face. “No, I’m sorry,” she says with a sigh. “You’ve been, like, totally nice to me about this whole thing and went shopping with me and I was a total bitch about your friend… and I know you don’t like Evan.”

“I don’t not like Evan,” Sabrina says immediately, which is true. “I just don’t, you know, know him? And that makes me… nervous for you.”

Zoe sits up and looks at Sabrina, clearly a little surprised. 

“You’re nervous for me?”

“I mean,” Sabrina tries to explain, “he’s from  _ Seattle _ . He didn’t, like, grow up here. And he got into all those fights at the beginning of the year, and he hangs out with your brother who, like, definitely got busted for drugs freshman year a bunch of times. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Zoe stares at Sabrina for a moment. “That’s… thank you?” She blinks. Smiles a little wryly. “Everyone is always so fucking worried about Connor, it’s like… nothing I do matters. Sometimes I feel like I could genuinely slit my wrists in the middle of dinner and my parents would pass the salt over my dead body.”

Sabrina’s breath catches at the casual way she’s talking about slitting her wrists, fucking hell. “D-don’t say that,” she manages to choke out. “Don’t… please don’t say that.”

Zoe flinches. “Sorry,” she mutters. “I don’t…” She runs her hand through her hair again. “I feel like I’m losing it, a little? This date is, like, stressing me out so much.”

Sabrina doesn’t know why she says it. 

“I could help you relax,” she offers. 

Zoe’s eyes go wide and interested. “Yeah?”

Sabrina’s throat goes dry. 

She licks her lips. Zoe’s looking at her mouth. 

Then Zoe’s kissing her. She tastes like strawberry lip gloss. 

Sabrina’s lip gloss. She’s been wearing it more often. Says she likes the taste. 

Sabrina pulls her closer, grabs her hips and pushes them both down on the bed. She feels like she’s vibrating out of her skin, like she’s possessed by a nervous, horny ghost, as she peels Zoe’s jeans off her legs, pulls down her underwear and kisses her. 

Zoe’s making the most wonderful sounds, her breathing all heavy, and keeps saying her name, over and over like a prayer. 

It’s the most wonderful thing, making Zoe feel good like this. Better than any pharmaceutical, more intoxicating. 

Sabrina loves it. 

She loves her. 

She loves Zoe so fucking much, she…

Oh god. 

Oh god oh god oh god. 

Zoe flips her over and pulls off Sabrina’s underwear, reaches down and touches her and Sabrina loses herself, loses all train of thought, lets go and closes her eyes and lets Zoe send her over the edge. 

When they’re finished, Zoe kisses Sabrina, then sits up and runs her hand through her hair. “Gonna have to straighten it again,” she says with a short laugh. “Can’t show up for my date with Evan with sex hair.”

“I thought it didn’t count as sex,” Sabrina says, like an idiot. 

Zoe recoils. 

Looks at Sabrina strangely. 

“It doesn’t,” she says defensively. She bites her lip. Looks at her phone. “Evan’s going to be here in, like, half an hour, so…”

Sabrina knows a brush-off when she hears one. 

She puts her clothes back on hurriedly. Zoe puts on a fresh pair of underwear, then seems to notice the bruises on her hips. Her cheeks go pink, and she picks up the red dress they bought at the mall for the date and puts it on. 

After all of that, she’s wearing the dress. 

She looks good in red, Sabrina thinks. 

Zoe turns on her flat iron and looks at Sabrina. “I’ll text you and tell you how it goes,” she says. “You’re going to be at Jared’s party, right?”

“Yeah,” says Sabrina, because that was the plan, absolutely. Now, though, she’s thinking she might just go home and cry. 

She’s been trying to hide it, trying to ignore it, but the truth’s decided to punch her in the face. 

The truth that she’s in love with Zoe Murphy and Zoe’s going on a date with someone else.

“Have fun,” she says, picking up her purse. 

She manages to make it to her car and halfway home before the tears fall.

* * *

Evan feels like he’s going to vibrate right out of his skin as he walks to the Murphy’s front door. He’s done this a million times, it’s not weird, it’s totally normal, but his hands are sweating so badly. 

So badly. 

He wipes them on his jeans awkwardly. Looks down at his button-downe shirt, his nice shoes.

Heidi had told him he looked nice. He’s got a t-shirt on underneath the shirt, but he’s done it up so he looks… nice, and a little formal, but if he’s over-dressed he can make it casual and just undo the buttons. 

That was Heidi’s logic, which he definitely listened to. It’s not like he has any fucking clue about this. 

He shaved. Did his hair. He’s even wearing a little bit of cologne. Enough that he smells good but not so much that it’s super over-powering. 

Also a Heidi logic thing. She apparently has opinions on too much cologne. 

Evan wipes his hands on his jeans for what must be the hundredth time. 

He rings the doorbell. 

Wipes his hands again. 

A few minutes later, there’s Connor. He frowns when he sees Evan. 

“This is weird,” he says without preamble, but opens the door nonetheless. Walks to the bottom of the stairs. “ZOE! YOUR DATE’S HERE!”

Then comes back and looks at Evan, this annoyed expression on his face. 

Evan swallows uncomfortably. 

Connor’s been… stand-offish the last few days, since he found out about the date. He’d told Evan the morning after Zoe asked him to ask her out that he knew, and that he didn’t need the details, but to ‘have fun, I guess’. 

And since then, they’ve talked about… literally anything else. 

Evan shuffles a little. 

He keeps thinking about Connor in his dream, reaching for the bottom of his shirt, asking if he could take it off. Looking at him like he was something precious, something worthwhile. 

Fuck, he’s so stupid and weird. 

This Connor, the real Connor, just looks pissed off. 

Evan needs to say something. Something to stop Connor from totally hating him. 

“I promise I won’t be a creep,” he says, and immediately regrets it. 

Connor just blinks and stares at him like he’s a particularly remarkable type of stupid. 

“Gee thanks, I sure appreciate it,” says Connor flatly. 

They both stand there for a long moment. 

Zoe’s taking fucking forever. 

It’s never been this uncomfortable, being around Connor, and Evan kind of hates it. 

No, scratch that - he very much hates it. 

Hates it enormously, in fact. 

Connor frowns. Looks like he wants to say something, but then Zoe’s coming down the stairs in this short red dress that shows off her long, tanned legs and makes her boobs look amazing and Evan just kind of stares at her for a moment. 

She looks… unreal. 

Beautiful, obviously, really fucking beautiful, but… unreal. 

Like something out of a magazine or a TV show, just… beautiful and unreal and…

Completely out of reach. 

She smiles brightly when she sees him, pointedly ignoring Connor. Kisses him on the cheek. “You made it,” she says brightly. 

“He lives next door,” Connor mutters. “He didn’t need a fucking map.”

“Where are we headed?” Zoe asks, taking his arm and directing him out the door. 

“Bye Connor,” Evan says, seconds before Zoe’s dragged him outside and shut the front door.

“So,” says Zoe the minute they’re outside. “Where are we headed?”

Evan suddenly feels… incredibly stupid. “There’s this diner?” he says, a little awkwardly. “It’s, uh, it’s near Heidi and David’s beach house. They had their first date there, and it started off as kind of a d-disaster, Heidi said, b-but it turned out okay because they, you know, got married?” Zoe’s eyes go wide and Evan’s face turns red. “N-not that… we’re sixteen, that’s n-not what we’re doing, obviously, it’s just… I thought it would b-be nice? A-and I’ve been there before with Heidi s-so I thought I’d be less nervous, except that I’m  _ not _ less nervous and you’re about to turn around go back inside, aren’t you, I’ve already freaked you out.”

Zoe blinks. “You can really talk when you get going, huh.”

Evan feels his face burning. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “Sorry, we can d-do whatever you want, just-”

“A diner sounds great,” says Zoe, smiling at him. “Give me directions and I’ll get us there.”

“Thank you,” says Evan, and immediately regrets it. 

He’s a disaster. 

He is a fucking disaster, it’s barely been a minute and he’s already fucking everything up and making an ass of himself. 

But Zoe’s smiling and she doesn’t seem mad, and…

This could be okay. 

This could actually be okay. 

* * *

It’s pretty lame that Zoe has to drive them, but honestly she kind of likes it when Evan still circles the car and opens the door for her when she gets out. 

So. That’s adorable. 

He looks good today. He obviously tried to look nice. For her. For their date. 

It kind of makes her stomach fill up with butterflies. He likes her. 

This is what is supposed to happen when you’re sixteen. Cute boys are supposed to make you feel all fluttery and nervous. They’re supposed to open doors for you. 

They get sat in a booth at the diner and Zoe kind of catches herself just. Smiling. Evan smiles back nervously. 

She makes him nervous. 

It’s how it’s supposed to be. 

They sort of just stare at each other nervously for a couple of minutes. 

Zoe giggles. “Good. Okay. We got the awkward silence out of the way.”

Evan gives her this sort of pained smile. “I’m- I. Sorry, I’m not like. I’m not… sorry.” 

She just smiles harder. “You’re sorry an  _ awful  _ lot.”

“Sorry,” Evan says back. Then he gives her another smile. Cheeky almost. 

That one was on purpose. 

“You look really nice,” Zoe says then. “I like your shirt.”

“Thank you?” It comes out as a question. Evan fiddles a little awkwardly with one of the buttons on his shirt. “You do too. I mean. You look… r-really nice. I. I like your dress?”

Zoe grins. “Thanks. It’s new.”

“Oh. C-cool.” He stops messing with his button. Starts again with the other hand. Looks down at his menu. Zoe mimics him, looking down at the options. She is  _ starving.  _ She was too nervous to eat much at home. She’s obviously not going to pig out in front of Evan, but she is excited to actually eat something. 

She doesn’t know how Connor does it. Maybe she can ask him for tips or something. 

The waitress comes by and gets their drink order. Tells them what the soups of the day are. When she comes back, they both deliberate a little more before ordering. Zoe looks at Evan. “You’re not gonna judge me that I’m not one of those girls who will pick at a salad all night, right?” 

Evan shakes his head. “Is that a real thing?”

Damn, he’s cute. 

She orders a burger and fries. Evan smiles at her and mimics her order, minus the cheese. 

“No cheese?” She asks, curious. 

Evan shrugs. “I’m-I’m not the b-best at keeping kosher but… yeah.”

“So you’re Jewish?”

Evan nods. “Kinda. Yeah. My mom’s…”

“Not your dad?” Zoe asks. She thought he was Heidi’s brother’s kid. 

“Oh. Yeah. Him too but… she’s. More serious about it?” 

Zoe laughs. “Wish my mom was like that,” she says. “She goes through like. Phases?”

Evan looks surprised. 

“Oh yeah. First we were Catholic? Then we weren’t really anything. Then it was Kabbalah. Then Buddhism? We were vegans pretty much all this year until…” Zoe trails off. 

Until her mom got shipped off to rehab. 

“When’s she c-coming home?” Evan asks, his voice low and. Sympathetic. Kind. 

“Sunday, I guess,” Zoe says with a shrug. “Let’s not talk about my mom.” She takes a sip of the Diet Coke she ordered. “Tell me about D.C. I want to hear all about it.”

He gives her an almost relieved looking smile. “It-it was… the workshop was so cool?” Evan says. “Th-there were some really great speakers? Like this one who g-gave a talk on-on like. Color and emotion?”

Zoe grins. “What do you mean?”

“Well. Like when you think about the color red, right? It can represent so much? It can mean, like, anger or-or rage. Like a fire burning or blood pounding. But it can also, be, like, happy? Like a red balloon against a bright blue sky or a new red car. And it can mean all sorts of other things. Like love or passion or sex or…”

He trails off. Seems to realize she’s wearing a red dress. His face turns pink. 

Zoe smiles. “Sex, huh?”

“I… um.”

She giggles. “You’re so easy to mess with, oh my god.”

His smiles back awkwardly. “Oh.”

“But that’s really cool,” Zoe says, still smiling. “I never think about that kind of stuff when I think about colors.”

“W-what do you think about?” He asks. 

“Like. If a color would look good on somebody.” She feels kind of dumb once she says it out loud. That sounds kind of stupid and shallow. Vain. “Or like. You know. How sometimes colors pop in certain lights? Like you see a red rose or something and the background is all dreary and gray? It really stands out. Or like. You see someone with super dark skin wearing like, bright yellow nail polish or super light blue shoes and you go ‘wow, those look so good together.’” Damn it she’s talking about clothes again. Fuck. “I’m not like. Smart like  _ you  _ are. So I guess I mostly think about fashion or whatever.”

Evan’s eyebrows knit together. “You’re smart.”

Zoe laughs. “Trust me, I’m not. School and stuff is not my thing.”

Evan’s frowning. 

“Well, it’s just… next to Connor, I might as well be braindead,” she says. She’s not sure why. Why she’d bring her stupid brother up. “Before he went to high school he got, like, straight As all the time. Never even studied. My parents were gonna let him skip a grade for a while but then the thing with Mrs. G. happened and they decided against it.”

“Who’s Mrs. G?” 

Oh duh. Right. Evan’s not from here. “His second-grade teacher. He threw a printer at her because she skipped him for line leader or something.”

Evan’s eyes go wide. “He  _ threw  _ a printer?”

“Yeah, I  _ know _ . It was so weird. I don’t even know how…” Zoe needs to change the subject. Immediately. “What were you like in second grade? I bet all the girls had crushes on you.”

His face clouds over. Shakes his head. “No-no, definitely not.” He shrugs. “I started a new school in, like, April? So nobody really talked to me.”

“That’s kinda late in the year,” Zoe says. “Your parents couldn’t wait to move until June?”

Evan shrugs. “Guess not.” He smiles awkwardly. “What about you? What were you l-like in second grade? Did all the-the boys have crushes on you?”

Zoe laughs. “Oh my god no. I was a  _ huge  _ dork.”

Evan grins. “I don’t believe you.”

“I swear!” Zoe says with a laugh. She leans in. Lowers her voice. “Don’t tell anybody, but I used to be kind of a loser.” 

“Bullshit,” Evan says with a soft laugh. “P-People just didn’t realize how cool you were yet. O-obviously.”

Somehow he’s reached across the table and taken her hand. Zoe feels her stomach fill up again with butterflies. She smiles at Evan. He’s blushing a little. 

* * *

Zoe’s hand is small and soft and warm and he didn’t knock a jug of water on her reaching out to hold it. 

Evan’s feeling… cautiously optimistic. 

This isn’t as terrible as he thought it might be. Not as terrifying as he thought it might be. 

She’s smiling and making jokes and teasing him, but not in a bad way, and he’s still getting used to being, like, gently teased. It’s still foreign to him, but he thinks he likes it. 

He likes Zoe. 

Likes her like this, with her soft smile and open face and the almost easy conversation and the way she’s not being a total asshole about her brother right now. 

_ Way to go, man,  _ the voice in his head feels compelled to say.  _ You’re thinking about her brother while you’re on a date with her. Super normal. Super straight. You’re such a fucking disaster, you’re going to fucking ruin this.  _

Shut up, he tells the voice. 

He’s not going to let his stupid brain ruin this for him. 

“I’ve always b-been kind of a loser?” he confesses. “At m-my old school, people d-didn’t… you know, notice me or whatever.”

Zoe looks at him, eyes a little wide. She blinks a few times. 

“Well, that’s their loss,” she says after a moment. “You’re smart and funny and kind and those jeans are really working for you.”

Evan thinks his face is on fire. “Y-yeah?” he manages to stammer out. 

“Oh yeah,” she continues, grinning wickedly. “Good thing you let me pick them out over the summer.” She tilts her head, frowns a little like she’s trying to figure out what to say, then continues. “I know you’re not, like, a fashion guy or whatever, but it’s like… obviously you’re aware that you’re hot, right?”

Evan thinks he might be having a brain aneurysm. “What?”

Zoe looks at him, clear interest in her eyes. “You’re really hot,” she continues, something deliberately light in her tone. “And you were still hot when you were in those completely tragic jeans when we first met, but it was harder to see because it was like you were hiding it.” She smirks a little. Takes a sip of her soda. “If you were wearing jeans  _ that  _ tragic back in Seattle, that could be why people didn’t notice you.”

Evan… doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know how to respond. 

He knows full well how much of a difference clothes make. He thinks about it all the damn time. He can basically become a whole new person depending on the outfit. Mold and shape himself into whatever people want him to be through a change of clothes. 

Zoe picked out the clothes he wears most of the time now, he realizes. 

It’s a weird realization, but there’s something almost comforting about it. 

_ You’re pathetic, _ sneers the voice in his head.  _ You’re trying so hard to be someone who matters that you’ll let her make you into whatever she wants. And it’s not like she has to try hard, because you don’t know who you are.  _

“Maybe,” he says, when he realizes Zoe’s waiting for an answer. He shrugs. “I just… I d-don’t really know a lot about that stuff?”

Zoe smiles at him. “Well, good thing you’ve got me,” she says, and there’s something significant in her voice, something he can’t quite understand, and it makes him warm and scared all at the same time. 

He can do this, right?

He can be who she wants. Slot into place, follow along, and be what she wants. 

They split a piece of apple pie a la mode for dessert. Zoe jokes the whole time about how all-American it is. 

“N-next time,” Evan jokes back, “we’ll split a milkshake. L-like in the fifties.”

Zoe beams at him. “Getting ahead of yourself there, Hansen,” she says teasingly. Her smile drops a moment later and she frowns. “Hey,” she says, a little accusingly. “If Heidi’s your dad’s sister, then how come you don’t have the same last name?”

Fuck. 

He hadn’t even thought about that, fuck. 

“I have my mom’s last name,” Evan says and is almost surprised to realize that he’s telling the truth. 

For once. 

“Huh,” says Zoe, scooping the last piece of apple pie onto a spoon. “Cute.” She picks up the spoon and grins at him. “Last bit’s yours,” she says, before shoving the spoon in his face. 

He barely reacts quickly enough to actually eat the damn thing and definitely gets some of it on his upper lip. Zoe giggles and Evan finds himself laughing as well, then licks his top lip to try to get the melted ice cream off. 

“You’ve still got… hang on.”

Zoe reaches across the table with a napkin and honest-to-fuck wipes melted ice cream off his face. Presses a kiss to the spot she just cleaned. 

Evan is going to dissolve, right there in this booth, fucking hell. 

He manages to compose himself long enough to cover the check. Does some quick calculations and leaves a huge tip, because he remembers his mom working in a diner when he was little and he knows how badly wait staff are paid, even in a place this close to all the fucking mansions. Zoe’s eyes go a little wide at how much he’s tipping, then she smiles at him widely. 

“My dad does that,” she says fondly. “Leaves, like, stupidly big tips at restaurants?”

Evan’s never been out to eat with his dad but something tells him he absolutely would not do that. 

“Yeah?” he asks instead. 

Zoe nods. “Yeah,” she says. Her face twists a little. “My mom gets annoyed about it sometimes? Says it’s, like, tacky or whatever, but Dad just ignores her.”

Evan blinks. Looks at Zoe with interest. 

“Well, what do you think?”

Zoe tilts her head like she’s considering. “I mean, I know we’re like, well-off,” she says, and Evan resists the urge to snort with derision because that’s the understatement of the fucking year. “But, like, so is everyone? Around here, at least.” Her cheeks color. “I mean, like, the people like us.” 

Evan’s heart is pounding too fast in his chest. He feels weird and cold. 

“Yeah,” he says quietly. 

“But, like, if you’re working in a restaurant or whatever,” Zoe continues, and her cheeks are burning now, “then clearly you, like, need the money? And… it’s not like we can’t afford it, so…” She clears her throat. “But then you kind of don’t want to be that asshole who’s like ‘hey, look at all the money I have!’, you know? You don’t want to be… flaunting what you have. Making people feel bad.”

Something in Evan relaxes a little. 

She doesn’t get it entirely, sure, but…

Zoe’s trying, at least a little. Trying to see past her bubble of privilege.

“It can b-be hard,” he says honestly. “When y-you see someone with so much and then they just… give it to you? Like it’s no big deal. It can m-make you k-k-k-kinda resentful?” He nods. Frowns a little. “B-but resentment and p-pride don’t pay the bills, you know? They d-don’t put f-food on the table. So you just have to… swallow it down and take it, even if it makes you f-feel like… like less of a person.”

Zoe’s face falls. She blinks a few times. “So no matter what you do, it’s still gonna suck,” she says, her shoulders sagging. “There’s no way to… to actually help without making people feel like shit.”

Evan shrugs. “I don’t know,” he admits. “M-maybe not. B-but… s-some people d-don’t have the luxury of c-caring about how things make them  _ feel, _ you know?” 

Zoe’s cheeks color. She looks down at the table. “Fuck,” she mutters. “You must think I’m so stupid and out-of-touch, I-”

“I don’t think that,” Evan rushes to say. He clears his throat. “I h-have a friend back home?” he lies. “Who-who was on, like, a scholarship so his f-family didn’t have m-money and I’d, like, p-pay for a l-lot of stuff and-and he and I would t-t-talk about it? So I’m n-n-n-not an expert but…” He shrugs. “It’s complicated.”

Zoe nods. “Right. Yeah, totally.” 

Evan clears his throat. “Anyway,” he says, trying to sound more confident than he is, wanting to change the subject. “I, uh, I thought we could g-go for a walk?”

Zoe looks at him, her eyes brightening a little. “Yeah?”

Evan swallows. She’s looking right at him and she’s so damn pretty, fuck. It distracts him for a second. 

“Heidi’s beach house is near here,” he says, and he’s pleased to notice his voice doesn’t shake at all. “So it’d be only us. If that’s… if that’s okay?”

Zoe smiles at him. “That sounds perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "Of All The Gin Joints In The World" by Fall Out Boy.


	31. Isn’t This Exactly Where You’d Like Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoe and Evan's date is going well until it isn't.

Zoe parks at Heidi’s beach house. Evan opens the door for her and she jokes that he’s “such a gentleman.”

He smiles at her sort of awkwardly. 

They start off down the beach. It’s dark and the waves are calm tonight. The moon shines weakly on the water. 

“It’s pretty,” Zoe says with a smile. “It’s pretty out here.”

“Yeah,” Evan says softly. 

He takes Zoe’s hand in his. She likes how big hers are next to hers. She smiles at their intertwined hands. Pulls hers away and says, “Your hands are kinda big.” She grabs his wrist and presses their palms together, lines up their fingers. Her fingertips barely touch the top of his first knuckle. Evan smiles and bends his fingers ever so slightly, sort of proving her point. 

“W-well. You know what they say about guys with big hands,” Evan says, his tone deceptively light. 

Zoe giggles. “What’s that?”

He nudges her foot lightly with his. “Big feet.”

She laughs. He’s _flirting_ with her. Actually flirting. 

Fucking finally. 

“You are such a dork,” Zoe says affectionately. She stands on her tiptoes and kisses his cheek. 

Evan smiles at her. 

Zoe laces their fingers together and they keep walking. They talk, but not a whole lot. They’re both pretty quiet. Looking out at the water. 

“I love the beach?” Evan volunteers suddenly. 

“Yeah?” Zoe says. “What are the beaches like in Seattle?”

Evan’s smile sags a little. “Different. Rockier? And it’s n-not normally this warm so…” He offers a shrug. “I like them better here.”

Zoe “hmm”s. She glances at his face. “How come?”

Evan shrugs. “Better memories, I guess?”

Zoe tilts her head slightly. “Oh?”

Evan nods. “My mom… when I was. Pr-pretty little, like almost eight? She and I… visited. We went to the beach and-and the boardwalk here in California. It w-was warm and-and nice and we spent the whole day just. Exploring?”

Zoe smiles. “That sounds really nice,” she says. “I don’t remember the last time my mom and I had a nice day together.”

Evan frowns a little. “I think that was the last one I had. With mine.”

Fuck. That’s sad. 

Zoe doesn’t want him to be sad right now. She doesn’t want him to be sad at all. He’s nice. Polite. Sweet. He shouldn’t be sad. 

Zoe stops walking. Evan seems confused but stops as well. He looks at her for a long moment. 

“You’re like. The sweetest guy I’ve ever met,” Zoe says. Making sure he hears it. “I… I really like hanging out with you.”

Evan smiles. “I really… I like hanging out with you too.” 

Zoe bites her lip slightly. 

And then Evan leans in and kisses her. Properly this time. His hands rest on her waist and he pulls her in close and they kiss for a while. He’s still a little bit tentative but Zoe’s not doing nearly as much leading. It’s nice. Really nice. 

The two of them break apart and smile at each other and then they both turn back toward the beach house. They settle in on the little loveseat out there and Evan fetches a blanket from inside and wraps it around Zoe’s shoulders. 

“You look… kinda cold?”

Zoe smiles. “I am. A little.” She scoots a little closer. “Think you could help warm me up?”

Evan’s eyebrows raise and he smiles at her like he can’t believe this is really happening and then they’re kissing again. They’re a lot closer this time. Pressing against each other. Evan surprises Zoe by tangling his hand in her hair and then she’s practically on top of him and he mumbles something about body heat between kisses and she laughs at him.

“You are so adorable oh my god,” she tells him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. It’s warm and soft and smells nice and she finds herself wondering if he shaved today. 

Because boys shave their faces. 

There’s the slightest hint of stubble above his upper lip and it’s kind of weird. She’s not used to it because, well, mostly she’s been kissing Sabrina. 

Sabrina doesn’t shave her face. 

She said something about having to wax her mustache once though…

Zoe pushes the thought out of her mind. 

She and Evan kiss until Zoe can’t help the fact that even pressed against him, even under this blanket, she’s shivering. 

“Let’s move this inside?” She suggests lightly. 

“Y-yeah. Okay. Yeah.”

They right themselves and Evan opens the door for Zoe. They both kick off their shoes and stand there for a moment. 

Zoe realizes she’s not totally sure what happens next. She thinks maybe Evan doesn’t either. 

“So. You wanna give me a tour?” She says. 

Which is dumb because they both know she has been here before. 

But Evan nods. “Yeah. Okay.”

* * *

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

Okay. 

He…

Fuck. 

He’s alone with Zoe Murphy. And she… wants a tour of the beach house. 

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck hasn’t she been here before? 

He’s just gonna…

Okay. He can do this. Be fucking normal. He can. 

Shit. 

Okay. 

He’s got this. Things have been okay. He kissed her and she didn’t slap him and tell him to fuck off so it’s probably been okay. 

Right?

Okay. Tour. He can. 

Fuck. 

Evan sucks in a deep breath. Zoe takes his hand again and he feels warm all over and it’s just the two of them here. Just him and Zoe and. 

Okay. 

He starts showing her around. Narrating as he goes. Upstairs. Heidi’s room. Back downstairs. The extra bedrooms. The one full of surfboards. The kitchen. The bathroom. 

“And… which one’s your room?” Zoe asks lightly. She’s looking at him through her eyelashes and something about the way she says it kind of breaks him. 

His room. 

She wants to see his room. 

Right. Because. 

Fuck. 

Because she wants to be in his _room._ With Evan. 

_Until she figures out how much of a loser you are. Until she realizes you’re a pathetic virgin idiot who’s never had a girl in his room before,_ taunts the voice in the back of his head. 

_Fuck you,_ he tells the voice. 

Zoe is nice and she’s pretty and she _wants_ to see his room. 

He can do this. 

Evan nods at her. Leads the way down the hall to the room he’s been staying in here. Flicks on the light. 

Zoe lets go of his hand and immediately goes to sit on the bed. She bounces slightly as she does and Evan firmly tells himself _not_ to be a creep and stare at her chest as she does. 

He’s only moderately successful but. Zoe’s smirking. 

She did that on purpose. So he’d look. He’s a fucking idiot oh my god. 

“Come here?” She says and her voice is lower than normal, kind of husky and. Fuck. 

Okay okay okay. 

Okay. 

Evan sits beside her, perched at the edge of the mattress, and then Zoe shifts slightly so she’s right next to him. She laughs slightly. “No,” she says softly near his ear and his whole body breaks out in goosebumps. “Evan. Come _here._ ”

He turns to look at her and she’s pulling him on top of her. Kissing him. With tongue. 

Holy fuck holy fuck. 

He’s on top of a girl. He’s…

Gotta move before she realizes he’s…

Zoe laughs softly. “So. I guess this is working for you?”

Evan’s face burns with embarrassment. Fuck she’s gonna punch him she’s gonna run away she’s going to murder him because he’s being so pathetic and gross and pervy and -

Zoe arches her hips slightly against him. 

Shit. 

Fuck. 

What the fuck what the fuck is this how this…?

Zoe pulls her mouth away from his and kisses Evan’s neck and. 

Okay so. 

He’s. 

Dying probably. 

She’s so close and she smells like strawberries and then she’s kissing his mouth again and he remembers stupidly that he’s got hands and he’s not doing anything with them what is he supposed to do with his fucking _hands_? 

Zoe solves the problem. She rolls them over and he doesn’t expect it and their noses bump and she laughs so he does too because what the fuck else can he even do? 

She kisses him again, briefly. Flutters her eyelashes. His heart _hurts_ , it’s beating too fast and Zoe’s hair is spread out around her head all messy and pretty and she says, “You can touch me. If you want.”

Evan might blackout for a second. He’s not sure. One second he’s staring at her face and her hair and the next his hands are climbing up her ribcage, his fingers pressing against each bone and Zoe kisses him again, hard, her fingers playing with his hair and he got a haircut after D.C. so the back is shaved and.

Okay so. 

He’s touching a boob. 

That sounds so stupid and dumb and boyish but it’s what’s happening. 

He was right. About it fitting in his hand. About it being soft and. 

Okay, fuck he’s never thought past this part. Hand on boob is about where his brain normally stops because he’s fucked up and weird about this shit, he can’t think about it without breaking out in a cold sweat, he can’t _think._

“That’s nice,” says Zoe. 

Nice. 

That’s… good?

Is he… Does that mean he’s doing this right?

_Of course you’re not doing it right. You don’t know what the fuck you’re doing. She’s going to realize you’re faking it, you’re faking everything -_

Evan’s stupid brain can’t even finish taunting him because Zoe’s started to unbutton his shirt. Her brow furrows in concentration and it’s kinda cute, actually, to see her focusing like that, and then she mutters, “Screw it,” and grabs the bottom of his shirt and yanks it over his head. 

Fuck. 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck this is going really fast. 

Fuck he’s gonna disappoint her. She’s gonna take one look at him and laugh she’s gonna tell him how pathetic and weedy he is. 

“Damn,” She says, her voice low. “Do you work out?”

Evan’s jaw hangs open. He’s never in his life once worked out he’s half-expecting she’s about to tell him that Surprise! She’s been blind the whole time. 

Zoe sits up slightly. 

Evan swallows hard. Her face is flushed and his heart is pounding painfully against his ribs and.

Zoe pulls her hair over her shoulder. Reaches behind her back and unzips her dress. 

She unzips her dress. 

Stands up. 

And then takes her dress off. Lets it slide off of her and onto the floor. 

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck she’s not wearing a bra. She’s not wearing a _bra_. She’s just standing there in a pair of black panties and. 

Evan’s mouth is dry. 

Fuck. 

He wasn’t expecting…

Zoe smiles at him like she’s shy. 

Fuck she’s beautiful. She’s the most beautiful person he’s ever laid eyes on and she’s here with him in his room and.

God, he can’t fuck this up. He can do this. 

Zoe climbs back on the bed. Into his lap. They kiss again, and she takes his hands and puts them on her chest. 

She’s topless her skin is so soft and he’s touching her. 

Because she _wants_ him to. 

He tries to focus on that, on not letting the voice in his head telling him all the ways he’s bound to fuck this up gain the upper hand. He keeps kissing her, touching her, and sticks to what he knows. 

Fact: Zoe wanted him to ask her out. 

Fact: Zoe asked to see his room. 

Fact: Zoe took off her own clothes. 

She wants this. Wants him, for whatever reason. 

He can’t fuck this up. He can’t fuck this up. 

She shifts her hips again and Evan’s mouth drops open slightly because he wasn’t expecting it and Zoe grins at him. 

Fuck she’s pretty. 

She’s so pretty. 

And he’s so out of his depth. 

But she seems to like what he’s doing, she seems to enjoy how he’s touching her, and she keeps letting out these small sighs and it’s really overwhelming. 

Zoe’s hand trails down his chest and a shiver of discomfort goes through him. 

_You’re going to fuck this up._

Her hands settle on his hips, and then she unbuckles his belt. 

_You’re already fucking it up._

She pops the button of his jeans, unzips the fly, and reaches her hand inside -

“Wait.”

Fuck. 

Shit fuck. 

“You okay?” Zoe says, her eyebrows up. She looks confused. 

“Y-yeah, no, I’m good,” He fumbles through saying, not making any fucking sense and he’s a goddamn liar because once her hand moves again, once she’s touching him, he can’t, he’s not, he can’t do this he can’t he can’t he can’t -

“Stop. Please.”

Zoe draws her hand back. She looks hurt. “What’s wrong?”

“I c-can’t,” Evan tries, but the words don’t quite come out right, they’re all mumbled and strange and nonsense. “I-I-I’m s-s-s-sorry just I h-haven’t and I’m n-not.. I don’t th-think-”

Zoe’s eyes turn cold. She backs away. “You don’t want me?” She asks, her voice small and different and hurt. 

Fuck. Shit. Fucking shit fuck fuck what the fuck did he do what the fuck did he just do?

“Zoe, I -”

“No, I get it,” She says, and her voice is hard and pained and she sits back and crosses her arms over herself in a way that reminds Evan of Connor somehow and holy shit could he please not be thinking about Connor while his sister is basically naked in front of him? “You don’t want to do this. You’re not _interested._ ”

“That’s not -”

Zoe’s eyes are glassy _._ Her bottom lip trembles. 

_Way to go, asshole, you made her fucking cry._

“You don’t want me,” She says again like it’s sunk in or something, like she’s had a realization. “You don’t want me because you’re-you’re -”

“I h-h-haven’t done this before,” He blurts, stupidly. 

Zoe stares. “Done what?”

Any of it. All of it. Anything. 

“Fuck you,” Zoe says, but her words lack punch, she just looks sad. “I thought you liked me.”

“I do!”

“Then why won’t you have sex with me?” Zoe demands. 

_Because you’re fucked up. A freak. Disgusting, broken, worthless, and terrified._

He can’t do it. 

He can’t he can’t let her touch him like that he’ll dissolve he’ll break he can’t fucking lose it now not after all of the other bullshit. 

“I’m sorry,” He tries, desperate to save it. 

“Oh spare me,” Zoe says. She’s climbing out of the bed, pulling her dress back on. Her face is flushed and Evan feels his own burning with shame, confusion, guilt.

Why can’t he just do this? Why can’t he just be fucking normal?

“I-I-I’m r-really sorry.” 

“Are you gay?” Zoe demands, looking at him with blazing, angry eyes. “Is that why?”

“N-n-no!” 

_“You turn out to be a faggot, I’ll fucking kill you.”_

“Then what the fuck is wrong with you?” Zoe asks. 

He doesn’t know. He honestly doesn’t fucking know. 

* * *

Zoe manages to all of her clothes back on before she actually dies of fucking embarrassment. She hurries out of Evan’s room, her whole body burning with shame and she’s totally mortified because she basically threw herself at a guy and he didn’t fucking _want_ her. 

Zoe stands in the kitchen feeling like she is seconds away from actually totally losing her shit. She’s trying to remember where the fuck she put her purse so she can get the hell out of here. 

She put it down… somewhere. Shit. Damn it she needs her fucking _keys_. 

Evan emerges from his bedroom. He’s got his pants buttoned and zipped again, his shirt back on. He starts to try to apologize again and Zoe holds up a hand to shut him up. “Stop. Please. I just want to… to go. Do you know what I did with my purse?

He shakes his head. “I’ll-I’ll. I’ll help you look.”

Zoe sighs and allows it. Tries to calm down. 

Maybe it’s her fault. 

Maybe he could tell what she and Sabrina had been doing half an hour before he picked her up. Maybe he thinks she’s a huge slut for trying to get with him on their first date. 

Or maybe he’s just gay.

He hangs out with Connor enough. 

She doesn’t know but she’s so embarrassed she could fucking cry. 

“Here,” Evan says quietly. He’s walking back inside from the porch, holding her purse. “Y-you must have l-left it.” 

“Thanks,” She says hollowly. 

“I’m really, really sorry,” Evan says. He sounds sincere. His eyes are big and he looks like he means it. “I didn’t- I didn’t want to fuck this up and-and-and I m-managed to anyway.”

Zoe shrugs. “It’s fine.”

Evan looks heartbroken. 

_Good_ , Zoe thinks. He fucking deserves it. 

But then she feels guilty. He’s been really nice all night. They had a good time until… 

Zoe sighs. “I’m gonna go to Jared Kleinman’s house party,” She says. “Maybe we can, like. Hang out again some other time?”

Evan looks crestfallen. “I… If-if you want, I guess, I… I’m so sorry.” 

Zoe sighs. She’s going to regret this. “Unless you want to go to the party with me?”

Evan blinks. Blinks a few times. “Y-you’re sure?”

She shrugs. “Yeah, my friends will all be there so…” Zoe pulls her keys out of her purse. “You should come. If you want.”

Evan nods. “S-sure. Okay. Yeah, I’ll come.”

The party is already super crowded when they get there. Zoe climbs out of her car and is annoyed when Evan doesn’t try to grab the door for her this time. 

Apparently chivalry’s dead. Cool. 

They head inside and Zoe immediately makes herself a strong drink in the kitchen. Evan’s watching her, his eyes huge. 

“Y-you drove here,” He says, his voice tight. Worried. 

“I’m a good driver,” Zoe says dismissively, and she knocks the drink back very quickly. 

“MURPH! I didn’t think you were coming!” Madison is running at her, clearly drunk already, and she pulls Zoe into a tight hug. She leans in and whispers, loudly, “Did you finally pop that cherry?”

“Fuck off,” Zoe mutters, shoving Madison off of her. 

Madison turns to look at Evan. “Well. Didja do it?”

He turns bright red. Stares down at his feet. 

Zoe is going to kill everyone here and then herself. Burn the whole place to the ground so this doesn’t get out to the other people at school. 

“No,” Zoe says, staring him down. “We didn’t do anything. Evan’s a perfect gentleman.” 

“Ew, that’s lame,” Madison says. 

Zoe can’t agree more. 

Evan’s face is still flushed. Madison offers them shots. She’s created something out of a mix of every nearly finished bottle of alcohol she could find. Madison is hardly a bartender and it tastes like drain cleaner but Zoe’s not really here to worry about how things taste.

Evan’s still watching her, this guarded expression, something hard in the set of his jaw. Zoe does another shot. Then a third. 

“Zoe,” Evan says to her. Like he’s begging her. 

He can beg all he wants but he doesn’t want her so it changes nothing. 

“What?” She says harshly. 

He stares. Opens his mouth but he doesn’t speak. 

“Come on, Murph,” Madison says, looping her arm through Zoe’s. “Let’s go find Tommy.”

“Yeah okay,” she agrees and she blows Evan off. Leaves with Madison. 

Evan doesn’t follow. Figures. 

Tommy has a bottle of whiskey in the Kleinmans’ pool house. He offers it to Zoe and she takes a long pull before she hands it back. 

She’s getting drunk. It’s decided. She’s getting fucking drunk so she can shake off the shaky humiliation of Evan looking at her and rejecting her. 

“What even happened, Murph?” Madison asks her. She sounds almost sympathetic. 

“My fucking brother turned Evan gay,” she mutters darkly. “We were hooking up and he… couldn’t. Do it.”

Madison barely holds back a laugh. 

Zoe wants to slap her. 

“Murph oh my god I am _so_ sorry.”

“Here,” Tommy says, handing over the whiskey again. “You need this.”

Zoe takes the heavy bottle and drinks and drinks. Hands it back. “You guys got anything else? I really need to… take my mind off of this shitshow.”

Tommy nods. “Yeah, we’ve got some shit.”

He leads them into the bathroom and pulls out a small bag of cocaine. 

Perfect. 

Tommy cuts it into lines on the countertop and then rolls up a fifty and hands it to Zoe. “Ladies first.”

Zoe snorts two lines of coke off of the counter. It hits hard, harder than when she’s done it in the past, and she smiles stupidly at Madison. 

“Hell yeah!” Madison cries. She does her own line. Music thumps loudly through the pool house from the main house, shaking the floor. “We should go dance!”

“Yes!” Zoe says because it’s the best idea she’s ever fucking heard. 

They head into the main house into the crowd of people. Zoe loses herself in the music. In the crowd. She dances up on Brian Harris and finds herself sandwiched between him and Chad. She laughs. 

At least they’re looking at her. Grabbing her hips and her shoulders. They want her.

Evan doesn’t want her. 

Fucking fag. 

Fuck Evan Hansen. 

Zoe escapes Brian and Chad. Clambers up onto the table. People cheer and laugh and she dances and she’s the center of attention. Everyone’s eyes are on her. 

“Go Murph!” Madison cheers. 

Zoe dances and laughs and then thinks that damn, she’s hot. 

She’s really hot. 

Everyone thinks so. 

She pulls off her dress. Keeps dancing on the table. People cheer and holler and egg her on as she dances. 

These people want her. She’s fucking _wanted_ here. 

* * *

Evan shouldn’t be here. Should not be here, absolutely should not be here.

Even if he hadn’t just fucked everything up with Zoe, he sure as fuck shouldn’t be at a party thrown by Jared fucking Kleinman. 

That guy is just the worst. 

The fucking _worst._

Zoe’s disappeared somewhere and clearly didn’t even want to bring him to this party in the first place and he’s stuck here, trying not to lose it, trying to deal with this awful gaping hole in his chest that’s getting bigger and bigger, threatening to swallow him whole.

_You fucked it all up,_ the voice in his head taunts him. _And now Zoe’s upset and she’s already drinking and she ran off with Madison and her brother to do fuck knows what and you’re here at this party no one wants you at like a fucking loser._

The Kleinmans have a pool. There are a couple of people in there making out, fully clothed. 

Evan stares at it for a moment. Debates just… jumping into the deep end. 

Fucking hell, that’s dark. 

He’s got to get his shit together. 

He heads into the main house. It’s laid out almost exactly like Heidi’s, like the Murphys’, and fucking hell why the _fuck_ can’t these rich fucking assholes design a more interesting fucking house? What the fuck is wrong with them, why does no one care about _fucking_ architecture?

Fucking hell, what the fuck is wrong with him?

Why can’t he be normal and stop freaking out about houses? 

Why can’t he be normal and sleep with a beautiful girl who wants to be slept with?

Why can’t he be fucking _normal?_

He makes his way to the kitchen. Goes to find a soda or something, something he knows isn’t alcoholic, because right now if he drinks anything he’ll lose his shit and just wreck the whole place. 

Punch every single one of these rich assholes in the face. 

Starting with Jared Kleinman. 

Who he can hear talking to someone in the corner. 

“Look, man, I just sell shit,” he says to two guys Evan vaguely recognizes. “If you’re gonna be all fucking irresponsible that’s got nothing to do with me.”

“I don’t know what the fuck was in that,” the first guy growls, clearly angry, “but it sure as fuck wasn’t what we paid for. She nearly _died,_ Kleinman.”

Jared rolls his eyes. 

Evan wants to punch him. 

Wants to crush him into pieces, beat his head into a bloody pulp. 

“I don’t sell _board games_ ,” Jared sneers. “You take the risk when you make the purchase, it’s just how it is.”

The second guy looks at the first, a look of sheer disgust on his face. “Wasting your time,” he mutters. “Everyone knows this asshole’s heartless.” He glares at Jared. “Everyone knows you sold Murphy the shit that got him all fucked up and leaked his fucking note.”

Evan’s heart stops. 

Like, genuinely stops for a moment. 

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck. 

Jared’s eyes go big. For a moment, he looks almost guilty. But the moment passes, and then he’s smirking. 

“So you want into Quitter’s skinny jeans, Craig. I’ll be sure to let him know.”

What the fuck. 

What the fuck what the fuck. 

Evan’s brain is just… completely overloaded. 

He slips out of the kitchen, down the hallway, and keeps going until he finds the walk-in linen closet all these identical houses have and just.

Shuts himself in there for a bit to catch his breath. 

To gather his thoughts, what the _fuck._

_“Everyone knows you sold Murphy the shit that got him all fucked up and leaked his fucking note.”_

Connor bought drugs off Jared. 

Connor bought drugs off Jared and he…

He wrote a note. He bought drugs off Jared and he wrote a note and everyone calls him Quitter and Evan’s a fucking idiot. A fucking idiot for not realizing sooner. 

Because all the evidence is there. All of it. 

Fact: Connor hurts himself. Evan knows that. He’s seen it for himself.

Fact: Connor was in rehab. When they were in D.C. he told Liam he was fifteen months clean.

Fact: Mr. Murphy was so fucking freaked the morning after the Panic! concert, so completely terrified. He said he was afraid Connor was dead. 

Add that to the information that’s just come to light and it’s pretty clear what happened. 

It’s fucking obvious, it’s been staring Evan in the face this whole damn time. 

Connor tried to kill himself. He used drugs he bought from Jared to do it. 

He wrote a suicide note. 

Jared leaked it to the entire school.

Evan’s willing to bet there was something in the note that caused the Quitter nickname. 

He’s so fucking stupid. So fucking _stupid_ , he…

He didn’t know, how didn’t he know?

Connor’s supposed to be his best friend. His person. Evan is supposed to be someone Connor can rely on and Evan… 

Didn’t know. 

Because Connor didn’t tell him. Didn’t feel safe telling him. 

Logically, that makes sense. There are things Evan can’t tell Connor, after all, things he keeps hidden away, things he can’t quite bring to the surface yet because he’s afraid he’ll lose it completely if he says them out loud. 

But Connor…

Didn’t tell Evan he was gay. He found out on his own. 

Didn’t tell Evan he’d been in rehab. He found _that_ out on his own, too. 

Connor doesn’t… 

He doesn’t trust Evan. 

Evan is so fucking stupid. Why is he so stupid?

Here is he, spilling out all of his secrets to this kid and he’s never told Evan anything, it’s all been someone else spilling Connor’s secrets and Evan’s been sitting here like an idiot thinking that he means it when he says Evan’s his best friend...

It’s hard to breathe all of sudden. 

Evan’s chest hurts, he can’t fucking breathe, he shouldn’t be here. 

In this linen closet, at this party, in this town, on this fucking plane of existence. 

He’s such a fucking disaster. Such a huge, complete loser, he can’t get _anything_ fucking right. He’s upset Zoe, Connor doesn’t trust him, he…

_You knew this was coming,_ taunts the voice in his head. _Knew this was all too good to be true, knew that you’d fuck it up. You’d fuck it all up, because that’s what you do. You destroy any good things that come your way._

Evan takes a long time to get his breathing under control.

A long, long time. 

When he finally thinks he’s got his shit together, at least a little, he makes his way out of the linen closet tentatively. 

Just in time for Jared Kleinman to walk past. 

“Yo Hansen,” he says with a smug grin. “Finally coming out of the closet.”

Evan wants to punch him. Seriously considers it for a moment. 

It would be even more satisfying now than it was in September. 

Then there’s a cheer from the living room. 

“Fuck yeah!” a voice yells. “Zoe Murphy’s got her tits out!”

Evan’s heart drops. 

Fuck. 

_Fuck._

* * *

Jared’s party is packed. Basically everyone from school is there. 

Sabrina wishes she weren’t. She’s fucking miserable and this isn’t fucking distracting her the way it should be. 

She should just go home. 

Madison’s there, draped all over some guy from Sabrina’s biology class whose name she can’t remember, and Jared’s glaring daggers at them from across the room. 

Kelly Davis is doing a line of coke off Melissa Edmond’s stomach. 

That cannot be sanitary. 

Sabrina shouldn’t be here. She absolutely shouldn’t be here. 

There’s a keg, and Michael Paterson, this senior Zoe keeps telling Sabrina she should go out with, offers her a beer. He’s got a nice smile and he’s not a total neanderthal and keeps looking at her boobs then immediately at her face, so he’s obviously making an effort not to be a total perv, and Sabrina is utterly disinterested. 

He’s not who she wants. 

Not even close. 

But she hangs out with him anyway, because it’s better than being alone, or dealing with Madison. 

Sure, Sabrina and Madison and Zoe are pretty much inseparable and everyone sees them as a trio of some kind, but when Zoe’s not there, Sabrina and Madison have nothing to talk about. Not really. 

Honestly? 

Sabrina doesn’t even like her. 

She thinks she’s a huge bitch. 

There. She said it. 

Thought it. 

Whatever. 

While it’s tempting to let Michael get her a beer, she declines and heads to the fridge, looking for a soda in a can that she knows absolutely cannot be anything but soda. The last thing she needs is a fucking spiked drink tonight. 

The last fucking thing. 

She does end up talking more with Michael once she’s got a ginger ale, though. Turns out he’s actually good to talk to. He went to this writers’ workshop in D.C. a few weeks back, apparently, and he’s got a lot of thoughts about the use of color in descriptive writing that’s… actually weirdly interesting. 

Huh. 

Didn’t see that coming. 

She’s about to ask him if he wants to go outside so they’re not having to talk so loud when there’s a loud cheer from the crowd in the living room. Someone cranks the stereo. 

“Fuck yeah, Zoe Murphy’s got her tits out!” someone calls out. 

Sabrina’s heart drops into her stomach. 

What the fuck. 

What the _fuck_ , Zoe’s supposed to be on a date, why is she here at this party, apparently topless?

Michael looks at Sabrina, his expression concerned. “Isn’t she a friend of yours?”

“Yes,” Sabrina says, frowning. “I gotta go.”

She heads to the living room to find Zoe on the table, dancing to this stupid Fergie song in only her panties. All the blood rushes to her cheeks at the sight of Zoe practically naked. 

Not that she hasn’t seen Zoe naked before. Multiple times, by this point. 

It’s obvious that Zoe’s just… trashed. 

Completely fucking trashed. Definitely drunk, probably high, and being a goddamn idiot. 

Evan’s pushing his way through the crowd as well, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it off as he does. He gets up on the table and puts the shirt around her shoulders. 

The crowd boos. 

“Get the fuck off me,” Zoe slurs. “Stupid fucking fag.”

Sabrina genuinely has to take a moment at that. 

What the fuck. What the fuck?

She looks at Evan. He looks… crushed. His face is red and he’s frowning deeply, but he seems determined to stop Zoe from showing off the goods to the entire school. Determined to save her from embarrassment. 

Sabrina has no fucking idea what’s going on here, but she knows she has to help. 

“Zo, hey,” she says, climbing onto the table next to Evan. She grabs Zoe’s arm and slips it into the sleeve of the shirt with one hand, holding on tight to her shoulder with the other. “Hey, look at me.”

“Fucking faggot,” she spits out, and Sabrina hates this, she hates it so much, Zoe sounds _exactly_ like her mom like this, exactly like she was at cotillion, fuck. “Won’t… he’s such an asshole, Sabrina, he’s a _fucking_ asshole.”

Evan’s still behind Zoe. He looks at Sabrina, his face as red as a tomato. “Are y-you okay to t-take her h-home?” he asks unhappily. “She d-drove us h-here b-b-b-but she c-c-c-c-can’t drive like th-th-this.”

Sabrina didn’t know Evan stuttered. Didn’t really pick up on it. She’s barely spoken to him, barely heard him speak. Zoe hadn’t mentioned it. 

“I haven’t had anything to drink,” she tells Evan. “Let’s get her home.”

“Wanna _party_ ,” Zoe slurs, then lurches and collides with Sabrina’s shoulder. Evan takes the opportunity to get her other arm into the sleeve. 

“You need to go home,” Sabrina tells Zoe quietly. “You’re way too drunk, we need to-”

She’s cut off by Zoe kissing her. 

Kissing her hard. 

The kiss is deep and dirty and Sabrina is completely shocked, completely taken aback, and part of her responds, kisses Zoe back for a few seconds. 

The crowd starts cheering. 

She pulls away. 

Zoe winks at her, or at least tries to. Her eyes are hazy and unfocused. “They like it,” she says. “Like watching us making out. Let’s put on a show.”

“You’re going home,” Sabrina says, and wraps her arms around Zoe’s middle, picking her up and physically taking her off the table and through the crowd, who are all hooting and hollering and applauding. 

Evan follows close behind. 

Sabrina can’t decide whether she needs to punch this guy or buy him a fucking fruit basket. What the fuck is going on? 

She puts Zoe down once they’re outside, which turns out to be a bad move because she immediately tries to make a run for it, heading back inside and running smack bang into Brian Harris. His eyes widen at the sight of her and his face breaks into a huge grin. 

“Hey there, Zoe,” he says, clearly eyeing up her tits, which are on display because the shirt isn’t buttoned up. “You look like you’re having a fun night.”

“I would be,” Zoe says loudly, “if this asshole weren’t trying to ruin fucking _everything_.”

She turns around gestures to Evan, who looks like he could explode any minute. 

Fuck. 

This is going to be bad, fuck. 

Sabrina doesn’t react fast enough. Brian’s all up in Evan’s face in seconds. 

“You messing with her?” he asks menacingly. “You keep your fucking hands _off_ her, loser.”

“He’s a fucking fag,” Zoe spits out. “Just like my fucking brother, he’s fucking-”

“Zoe, come on,” Sabrina interrupts. “Let’s just go.”

She doesn’t have time for Evan and Brian to be having some dumb fight now, and she could care less about Evan Hansen getting the shit kicked out of him, because whatever he’s done to upset Zoe has left her in really fucking bad shape. 

But that doesn’t mean she’s going to let Zoe yell homophobic slurs at him, Jesus. 

Brian takes a step closer to Evan. Pulls himself up to his full height, which is barely taller than Evan. 

Evan’s broader than he was when he first arrived. Stronger. 

Sabrina doesn’t know who’ll win if they throw down right now. 

She’s about to tell them to knock it off when Brian throws a punch, right in Evan’s chest. Evan staggers backward, then shrugs it off, something fierce and dangerous in his eyes. 

Sabrina expects him to punch right back. 

But he doesn’t. 

He’s clearly winded, out of breath, but he just stares Brian down. 

“You’re not f-fucking worth it,” he chokes out. 

“Get the fuck out of here,” Brian sneers. “No one invited you, asshole.” He puts his arm around Zoe’s shoulder. “Come on, babe.”

Zoe responds by puking all over his jeans. 

Just… full-on projectile vomiting. 

Brian recoils, starts swearing and yelling, and Sabrina acts fast, grabbing Zoe by the shoulders and pulling her away from him. She manages to get Zoe halfway down the driveway before Zoe slumps against her, muttering something unintelligible. 

Then Evan’s on the other side of her. He’s still clearly reeling from the punch, but he doesn’t hesitate to scoop Zoe up into his arms and carry her down the driveway. “Where’s your c-car?” he asks Sabrina. 

Sabrina leads the way. 

Evan gets Zoe into the backseat of the car efficiently, all things considered. He sits in the back with her, face tight with concern.

Zoe’s pale and swearing and her makeup is ruined and Sabrina doesn’t know where her fucking clothes are. 

It’s probably safe to say that their date did not go well. 

“Okay,” says Sabrina once they’re halfway to the Murphys. “You have to tell me what the fuck is going on.”

“She’s m-m-m-mad at me,” Evan says unhappily. “Insisted w-w-w-we come t-t-to the party and r-r-r-ran off.”

Zoe snorts. “Retard. Stupid… fucking retarded faggot.”

“That’s enough,” Sabrina says firmly. “Zoe, what the actual _fuck_.”

“Fucker won’t fuck me,” Zoe says, her voice a little stronger now. “Happy to… feel me up and get me mostly naked, sure, but he won’t seal the fucking deal.”

Sabrina grips the steering wheel tightly. 

Looks at Evan in the rearview mirror, whose face is red and just looks so incredibly uncomfortable 

What. 

The. 

Fuck. 

“You’re pissed off because he didn’t have sex with you?” 

“I’m _pissed off_ ,” Zoe says, and she’s sitting up, pulling away from Evan, “because he took me on a fucking romantic beach walk and back to his beach house and pussied out at the last fucking minute. Because he took for-fucking-ever to ask me out and I had to _tell_ him do it.” She looks close to tears. “I’m _pissed off_ because my fucking _asshole_ brother _ruined_ him and made him _gay_ because of course he fucking did, he fucking ruins _everything-_ ”

“I’m n-not gay. And Connor d-didn’t… didn’t do anything,” Evan interrupts, his voice quiet and sad. “Zoe, I am _truly_ sorry that I h-hurt you, I j-j-just… it’s a b-big deal for me? To be… v-v-vulnerable with s-s-someone-”

“Bet you’d fuck _Connor_ if he asked you,” Zoe mutters. “Fucking fag.”

Evan’s mouth snaps closed. 

Sabrina pulls into the bottom of the shared driveway. Looks at Evan. 

He looks like he could cry. 

“I don’t want to take the car up there,” she says quietly, “in case her dad comes out to investigate. She’s… this is pretty bad.”

“I know,” Evan says miserably. He frowns deeply. “Heidi’s w-working,” he says after a moment. “W-we could take her to mine?”

“Not going fucking _anywhere_ with you, asshole,” Zoe says bitterly. She pushes Evan away and goes for the door. “Going back to the party.”

With that, she climbs out of the car. Sabrina immediately gets out of the car, too, running around to make sure that Zoe doesn’t flash the whole neighborhood in her drunken attempt to get back to the party. 

But she’s found another target. 

Because Connor’s sitting on a fence at the edge of the driveway with a cigarette between his lips, looking at his sister in absolute horror. 

* * *

Apparently Evan and Zoe are having a great time on their date because it’s just after midnight and they’re still not home. 

So much for Evan not being a creep. 

His dad shuffled off to bed half an hour ago. “You’re not waiting up?” Connor asked him, annoyed. 

His dad yawned. “She’s out with _Evan_.” He said it like it explained something. “Kid isn’t gonna try anything with her.”

Connor hadn’t even let his mind get that far. 

And now he definitely can’t try to sleep because he’s worried about Evan, like, having sex with his fucking sister and how that is like thirty levels of gross. 

Like that’s disgusting and Connor can’t fucking think about it. 

He gives up on the idea of sleep and heads outside for a smoke. 

He sits on the low stone fence between his house and Heidi’s. 

When they move, he probably won’t get away with this anymore. The new neighbors will be all pissy and whine about private property even though their driveways are _connected_. 

Connor’s like. Pre-miserable about the new neighbors they don’t even have yet. He like. Already misses Evan. Who is probably fucking his sister. 

Fuck, Evan’s first kiss was Zoe. Should he have been a good friend and given him _condoms_ or something? Evan probably didn’t even think about that shit before they went out. 

If Evan gets his fucking sister pregnant, Connor will lose his fucking mind. 

They better be. Using fucking condoms, Jesus. 

Wow he fucking hates this. 

Just as Connor is about to break down and text Evan (though he doesn’t know what the fuck he’d even say. “Please don’t fuck my sister”? Jesus he’s such a freak), a pair of headlights creep up Heidi’s side of the driveway. 

It’s not Zoe’s car. 

It’s… Sabrina Patel?

What the _fuck_? 

Why is Sabrina here?

He’s even more confused when a moment later, Zoe climbs out of the car. 

She doesn’t have clothes on. 

What. 

What is happening? 

She’s in her underwear and an unbuttoned long sleeve shirt and _Jesus Christ_ her boobs are out. 

Connor stands up. 

Zoe is heading right toward him. 

And she’s stumbling. She doesn’t have shoes on and her face is streaked with tears and _wow_ okay so Connor has to kill Evan now. 

But then Evan is getting out of Sabrina’s car and he’s begging Zoe to leave Connor alone. 

Wait, _what_? 

Connor finally tunes in to what Zoe’s been shouting. “...fucking ruin everything for me?” She shoves Connor hard. 

“Zoe what the fuck?” Connor says, beyond confused. 

“You fucking… you hate me and you just wreck everything!” Zoe shouts. 

Evan looks nervously up toward the house. 

Sabrina says something to Zoe, trying to approach her, and she shouts at Sabrina too, telling her to keep her fucking hands off of her. 

Why doesn’t Zoe have her clothes on? What happened what happened? 

“Sh-she’s drunk,” Evan says, his voice pleading as Zoe tries to push Connor again. “She m-m-might have...?”

Connor blinks a few times. 

Pulls his hoodie off and when Zoe comes at him again he grabs her around the waist so she doesn’t topple over. She lets out an unholy string of curses, telling him to get his hands off of her, calling him a fucking faggot and Connor just ignores her. He wrestles with her until he manages to get the hoodie over her head and she keeps twisting and trying to break free and Connor really didn’t ever want to see his sister’s fucking boobs but here he is. 

He manages to pull the hoodie down over her chest. 

She shoves her arms through the sleeves and then slaps Connor across the face. 

Hard.

It kind of stings. 

“I _hate_ you!” She shouts at him. “You are such a-a freak and an asshole! I can’t fucking stand you.”

Connor doesn’t respond to that. “Can you two help me get her inside?” He says, looking from Evan to Sabrina. “How did she get this wasted?”

“Sh-sh-she wanted to go to J-Jared’s party,” Evan says, and he looks close to tears and Connor doesn’t have the bandwidth for that right now. He comes closer, going to take Zoe by the arm and she smacks his hand away. 

“Oh no, asshole, you’re not hooking up with me _now,”_ she spits. “No, I don’t sleep with fags… so fuck you. Or not.”

Connor blinks in confusion. 

She’s calling _Evan…?_

“And _you_ !” She says, looking back at Connor. “You fucking turned him _gay!_ Why would you do that you knew I fucking liked him!”

“I didn’t… what is she talking about?” Connor asks helplessly. 

“Evan didn’t want to have sex with her,” Sabrina says quietly. “And she’s. Upset.”

Connor’s heart is pounding so hard against his ribs. They didn’t have sex? 

Zoe’s still going. 

Screaming abuse at him. 

“I hate you! I hate you, you make everything _worse._ All you’ve done since getting back is make everyone crazy, you _broke_ mom and she’s all fucked up now. Dad’s like… trying to… he’s always watching everything you eat like a psycho. You turned Evan gay.”

“I…” Connor looks at Evan desperately but Evan seems frozen. “What the hell did she take?” He asks. He recognizes the glazed over look in her eyes. She’s not just drunk, nobody who’s _just_ drunk behaves like this. 

“I d-don’t know,” Evan says desperately. “She d-d-ditched me at the party she-”

“Jesus,” Connor mutters. He knows those parties. He was this person once. Less naked but just as fucking angry. He directs his attention to Zoe. “Zoe, what are you on?” He tries to be patient, tries not to piss her off more. 

“Fuck you,” she says trying to get away from him. 

Connor’s heart is racing. Tries to remember the symptoms of a cocaine overdose so he can rule it out. You get really hot. Your heart races.

She’s half-naked, fuck. 

“How much fucking coke did you do?” He asks her. Tries really hard not to yell. 

“Fuck you, you don’t know me!” She mutters. 

Yeah but Connor knows _this._ “You gotta tell me so I know you’re okay,” Connor tries pleading with her. “How much did you-?”

“Mom doesn’t fucking love you,” Zoe spits viciously. Connor freezes. He… he knows that. “You shouldn’t have come home… should have stayed the fuck away, instead of… of. Making mom crazy and-and making dad act like some kinda pathetic pussy. Nobody here wants you, Connor!”

He fucking knows that. 

He already _knows._

“Zo, come on,” he says quietly. “You need to sleep it off. You can yell at me more in the morning.” He gets a hand around her wrist and her pulse is rapid but she’s not hot to the touch she’s just… drunk and high. And she’s _so_ drunk and high he’s able to maneuver her up toward the house before she seems to really realize what he’s doing. 

Until she does. “No, no, stop touching me,” she says trying to shove him off. One of her flailing arms catches him on the chin. “Let me go, fucking, stop it stop it!” 

“Zo, _Jesus-_ ”

“Get your fucking hands off of me, _Quitter_ ,” she spits, shoving away from him. 

Connor freezes. He totally freezes. His whole body goes cold. 

She hasn’t. She’s never… His parents wouldn’t let her read it, Connor made sure of that. He begged them not to show it to her. She’s never called him that. He’s even heard her tell other people to knock it off before, Zoe’s _never._

“Maybe if you’d done a better fucking job back then, I wouldn’t be stuck with you now,” Zoe mutters and then Sabrina is at his side. 

She says, “I got her,” softly. “Zoe, babe, come on. Let's get you inside.”

“Don’t let her sleep on her back,” Connor says quietly. He’s shaking. He’s shaking so hard. “She could throw up and ch-choke, she could..”

“I got her. Don’t worry,” Sabrina says. 

And Zoe lets Sabrina put her arms around her and practically carry her into the house. Zoe’s crying loudly, sobbing that everything is _wrong_ and Connor couldn’t agree more everything is absolutely wrong. The door shuts with a soft click. 

“Fuck,” Connor mutters. He feels like his knees might give out. He kicks out viciously at one of the fucking decorative snowflakes his dad still hasn’t taken down from Christmas. He knocks it over. 

“Connor.”

“I’m fine,” he says to Evan. He can’t look at him. 

“ _Connor.”_

He can’t look at him. Can’t face him. “Go home, Evan.”

“No,” he says, his voice hard. “Are you okay?”

“No,” Connor says angrily. “Go home.”

* * *

Evan is absolutely not going to do that. He’s not going fucking anywhere until he knows that Connor’s going to be alright. 

He’s never been angrier at another human being in his life. 

How dare Zoe say that to her own brother? How _dare_ she?

He’s so fucking angry. So fucking angry he could scream, could cry. 

Fuck. He should have punched Brian Harris. Should have tackled him and kicked him and punched him until there was nothing left but bloody pulp. 

Should have ripped Jared Kleinman’s throat out, picked him up, and bashed his head against the wall over and over again until he stopped running his goddamn mouth.

That is… so fucked up, he is so fucked up for thinking like that. 

He is _just like_ his asshole father, what the fuck. 

Evan clenches his fists and wills himself to _calm the fuck down._

“She had no f-fucking right to go after you like that,” he spits out angrily. “She’s mad at me, she’s p-pissed off at me-”

“Because you didn’t fuck her,” Connor interrupts bitterly. “Guess the date didn’t go well.”

Evan feels hot and ashamed and like a fucking idiot, like such an idiot, Connor probably thinks he’s such a fucking loser, getting all bent out of shape about sex, being all weird about this but he doesn’t want to think about Evan fucking his sister _this is a fucking nightmare._

He’s so stupid. 

He was so stupid to think that it would be okay, that he could be fucking normal. 

So fucking _stupid_. 

“She shouldn’t have called you that,” Evan says firmly, putting every ounce of effort into his voice not shaking.

“Why not?” Connor says, his voice dull and far away. “Everyone else does.”

“That doesn’t make it okay,” Evan replies immediately. 

Connor blinks. Looks at him and frowns. “I told you,” he says slowly. “I told you why they call me that. It’s just because I quit going to school with-”

“I’m not fucking _stupid_ , Connor.”

Connor recoils. 

Goes horribly, horribly pale. 

Evan knows he shouldn’t be bringing this up. Not now. 

Not when he’s still fucking processing what he found out about Jared tonight. 

He should _not_ be talking about this, because it obviously isn’t something Connor wants to talk about with him, but he’s sick and tired of lying, so he may as well burst the fucking bubble on _this_ one. 

“I’m n-not stupid,” Evan continues, his whole body shaking with rage. “I kn-know you hurt yourself, that you d-did a bunch of drugs, I know how fr-freaked out your d-dad was when we stayed out all n-night, he… he k-kept saying that he thought you were _dead_ I’m not fucking _stupid_.”

Connor’s so pale now that he’s gray. He looks like he’s going to be sick. 

He crosses his arms in front of his chest, his chin set defiantly. 

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

Evan sees red. 

“Tonight has been a fucking n-nightmare. Your sister thinks I’m g-gay because I d-didn’t want to have sex with her,” Evan seethes. “She ditched me at that st-stupid party, got h-high and called me a faggot in fr-front of everyone at school. She m-made a fucking scene and g-got Brian Harris to punch me and I d-didn’t fight back, I g-got her home _safe_. As s-safe as I could.”

“What do you want, a fucking medal?” Connor says, his nose going red. 

“I w-want you to be fucking _honest_ with me!” Evan yells. “I kn-know you don’t trust me and you d-don’t want to talk about it and I d-don’t need all the details b-but do me the fucking courtesy of _admitting_ it, okay?”

“Admitting what?” says Connor stubbornly. 

Evan feels like his heart is going to pound out of his chest. “Admit that they call you Quitter because you tried to kill yourself.”

Connor’s eyes are glassy. “Fuck you.”

Evan clenches his fists. Fights the urge to just deck Connor for being a stupid fucking idiot, for being a goddamn terrible liar, for not trusting him with anything when he knows Evan’s biggest secret. 

Connor can deny this all he wants, but it’s written all over his face. 

It’s true. 

Evan’s right. 

Fuck. He wishes he weren’t, that’s… 

Fuck. 

He’s never been so angry and disgusted in his entire life. 

“Zoe’s been screaming abuse at me for the last half-hour,” Evan says, his voice quiet. He’s surprised at how even it is, not a trace of a tremor. “Basically told Brian to punch me. And I can deal with that because I know that she’s drunk and high and upset.” He pauses. Looks Connor straight in the eye. “But what I can’t deal with is her calling you _Quitter_. Because that is… horrific. Unfairly cruel. Completely unacceptable.”

“She hates me,” Connor says, and it looks like he’s dangerously close to tears, but he’s still glaring at Evan like he’s disgusted at the sight of him. “It’s not a fucking surprise, I already knew she hates me.”

“What she said is unacceptable,” Evan says firmly, still looking at Connor, who’s shifting uncomfortably under his gaze. “And I won’t fucking stand for it.”

Connor rolls his eyes. Sniffs. Wipes his face. 

“Fuck you,” he says weakly. “She’ll cool down and go back to mooning over you in a few days.” He looks at Evan and bites his lip. “You’ll get a second chance to show her how straight you are, even though you fucked it up-”

“Even if she does,” Evan says fiercely. “Even if she does decide I’m _worthy_ of a second chance. _She’s_ not. Not as long as she thinks it’s okay to speak to you like that.”

Connor blinks. Laughs a little. “This isn’t fucking new,” he spits out. “She’s hated me the whole time, you’ve just been too distracted by her tits to notice.”

Evan shifts his jaw. 

He really wants to punch something. 

“Go home,” Connor says again, his tone so caustic Evan half expects to see burn marks all over him. “Just go home.”

_Do what he says,_ the voice in his head says mockingly. _You’re wasting your fucking time. He doesn’t want you. No one fucking wants you. All you’ve done is fuck everything up._

Evan does what he’s told and walks up the driveway back to Heidi’s house. 

* * *

Connor watches Evan leave and hates himself for telling Evan to go because he doesn’t know if he can do this. He doesn’t know if he can handle this. 

Evan knows. 

He _knows._ He knows what happened freshman year, knows the thing Connor has tried so desperately to hide from him because he didn’t want to see the disgust and pity in his eyes, didn’t want Evan to know how weak and broken he was.

Is. 

How weak and broken Connor _is._

Connor heads inside. 

He checks on Zoe. 

Sabrina is in bed with her, spooning her from behind while Zoe cries and cries. She whispers kind things to Zoe, tells her it’ll be okay, then looks up at Connor and tells him he should go. 

“Please don’t upset her more,” she pleads. 

Connor shuts Zoe’s door and goes into his bedroom. Shuts the door and just sits on his bed and thinks. 

What is he waiting for? What is he holding on for? 

There’s no fucking point. 

There’s no point at all. 

Connor walks like a condemned man into the bathroom he and Zoe share. Searches the medicine cabinet with shaking hands. He needs… _something_ he needs something. 

He can’t keep doing this. He can’t. 

All he finds in the medicine cabinet is some nighttime cough syrup. 

It’s gonna have to do for now. 

Connor drinks twice the recommended dose and stumbles to his bedroom. 

Opens up his closet and thinks. 

Thinks about whether the rack holding his clothes would hold his weight. 

He’s so huge and gross it probably wouldn’t. And he’s too tall. 

Damn it damn it damn it there’s no way out there’s no fucking way out. 

He’s breathing too hard. 

He shouldn’t be by himself. He’s gonna he stupid he’s gonna -

Connor punches the wall. His fist leaves a hole in the drywall. Pain rockets up his arm, and his knuckles are covered in dust and oozing blood and the cough syrup is starting to hit him, make him unsteady on his feet. 

He needs to fucking end this. He needs to end it. 

He goes into his bag. He stole a Xacto knife from art class. It’s sharp and it’s dirty but it could work. 

He’s always going to come back to this. He’s always…

He puts the blade to his skin tries to will himself to have the strength to push down hard enough. 

He can’t. 

He’s a coward a pussy a fucking pathetic _faggot_ and he can’t make himself just do it. 

A few drops of blood raise. 

He needs to do this but he’s struggling to stay upright he’s struggling. 

He gropes for his phone, still in the pocket of his jeans. He’s shaking and shaking and he dials blindly. 

The message on the machine surprises him though it shouldn’t. “You have reached the Oceanview Wellness and Rehabilitation Center. If this is an emergency, please hang up and dial 911. Our hours are Monday to Friday, 8 am to 8 pm, and 9 am to 6pm Saturday and Sunday.” 

Connor feels tears spring to his eyes because he knows it’s stupid but he just wants to talk to his mom. 

He wants to tell her how sorry he is for everything he’s done. To her. To their family. 

He wants his mom. 

He wants her to tell him it’s going to be okay. 

It’s so stupid of him to want her when she doesn’t want him but it’s all he can thing before the darkness creeping in around the edges overtakes him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "But It’s Better if You Do," by Panic! At The Disco.


	32. Praying For Love And Paying In Naivety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A homecoming and an escape plan.

The kids aren’t speaking. 

Larry wakes up at seven o’clock on Saturday morning to a call from Jenny Kleinman. She sounds exhausted and just a little self-righteous. 

“I wanted to make sure Zoe is alright,” she says. 

“Zoe?” Larry’s heart begins to race. He stumbles out of bed. 

“Well, Jared had a little party last night and things got. Out of hand. One of the girls here… I don’t know  _ where _ but she got a hold of some cocaine and… she’s at Memorial Hospital this morning and…”

Larry practically rips Zoe’s door off of its hinges yanking it open. 

Zoe is in bed. She’s snoring slightly. Sabrina Patel is in bed with her, turned away. When did Sabrina come over? 

He closes the door and heads down to the kitchen. 

“Zoe wasn’t at a party last night,” Larry says angrily, pissed at Jenny for scaring him like that. “She was on a date with Evan Hansen.”

“Well. Jared says that both of them were here…” Jenny sounds acceptably cowed. 

“Jared’s a damn liar,” Larry finds himself saying nastily. “I told you that two years ago when he sold my kid enough drugs to tranquilize a horse.”

Jenny huffs on the other side of the line. “I was just calling to make sure-”

“My children are fine, thank you for your concern,” Larry says curtly and then hangs up on her. 

But his heart doesn’t beat properly in his chest after he does. He puts the cordless phone down on the counter and heads back upstairs. 

Opens Connor’s bedroom door. 

He’s still dressed. Still wearing those damn boots of his. He’s asleep on top of his covers, curled up in a ball. 

Larry wonders if Connor was waiting up for Zoe and Evan. 

Poor kid has it  _ bad  _ for Evan. Larry can tell. 

Connor groans and rolls over. 

“Dad?” He says. 

“Hey bud,” Larry says. His voice is shaking. 

“What time’s it?” Connor slurs. 

“Early. Go back to sleep.”

Connor blinks a few times. Unfolds himself. Looks at his feet. “I have shoes on?”

“Why don’t you take them off and sleep more, yeah?”

Connor nods. “Kay.” He fumbles with the laces and then kicks them off. Crawls back under his covers. 

Larry thinks he sees blood on Connor’s wrist but when he looks again he’s sure he imagined it. 

He wants to hug his kid and tell him he loves him but he knows Connor will just complain he’s being weird. 

So Larry leaves the room and goes back to the kitchen. Makes coffee. Sits at the table and wearily rubs his face. 

He notices later in the day that the kids aren’t speaking. He tries to sit down with both of them to discuss Cynthia returning on Sunday afternoon, but both of them are standoffish, quiet, and refusing to engage with one another. 

“I’ve spoken with your mom and what she really needs now is some consistency,” Larry tells them. 

Both of them nod stonily. 

“So I’m thinking we might. Try to have at least one night each week where we all do dinner together?”

“Fine,” Zoe says. 

“Sure,” Connor says. 

They don’t look at each other. 

“She’s going to continue going to meetings,” his dad says. It was a condition he gave her about coming back. She had tried to fight him on it but Larry put his foot down. He wasn’t letting her back home, back around the kids unsupervised if she wasn’t still working on this. 

“And. I shouldn’t need to say this,” Larry says, feeling mildly irritated by how disengaged the kids are for this conversation. “But there’s not going to be any drinking in this house. Not by any of us.”

“Yeah,” Connor says. 

Zoe looks like she’s about to protest, but Larry is the fucking parent here, and he’s determined that whatever the hell she might have gotten up to last night will be the last time. “Whatever,” she says. 

“Glad we’re all on the same page,” Larry says. He’s irritated with them. They’re behaving like children.

He sighs. 

Because they  _ are _ children. Old enough to know better, but they’re still kids. Just kids. 

He lets them go back up to their rooms without anything more said on the subject. 

Larry heads into the kitchen and clears out the remainder of their liquor cabinet. He stashes the bottles in their mostly unused basement, inside of the safe where he keeps the family’s important documents. He changes the combination so Cynthia will need to ask to be let in. 

Goes upstairs and thinks, a little ironically, that he could use a fucking drink. 

* * *

His mom is acting like she’s been on vacation or something, Connor thinks. She comes home around noon on Sunday and greets both him and Zoe with these big hugs and kisses on their cheeks. She tells them how much she’s missed them. 

Connor half expects her to pull out fucking souvenirs. Though lord knows what she’d have gathered in rehab. Twelve-step pamphlets? A well worn Nicholas Sparks novel? 

That’s all that was there when Connor was. 

Maybe the youth program is just more boring. He doesn’t know. He did his twenty-eight days, came home for a while, then got sent off to boarding school when he didn’t “shape up.”

In retrospect, Connor could have absolutely resumed getting as high as he wanted the moment he arrived at Hanover. There were definitely plenty of drugs there. He just didn’t. 

He found new addictions instead. 

They have dinner as a family the night his mom gets home. Watch a movie as a family. It’s tense and uncomfortable, and Zoe basically throws herself at their mom and snuggles up to her, woefully recounting how her date with Evan didn't go well. She doesn’t tell her the  _ real _ story.

Just some bullshit about how Evan’s not who she thought he was and she doesn’t want to see him anymore. Their mom is so over the top sympathetic and talks about calling Heidi. 

“Oh my god mom, you can’t,” Zoe says. “It would be  _ so  _ embarrassing.”

Their mom agrees not to and Connor relaxes a little. If she did, Heidi would put the house on the market immediately. 

Eventually, they all go their separate ways and head to bed. 

Connor mostly just stares at his ceiling. 

He feels like shit. 

His mom is being all. Uber mom. Overly nice. Hyper-apologetic. Affectionate beyond how she’s ever been before. 

It feels like a trick. 

But Connor still… 

He still wants to talk to her. Part of him aches because he hasn’t. They used to  _ talk.  _ When he was younger. When she was kinder. 

Evan’s been texting Connor nonstop all weekend and Connor’s gotten so frustrated that he just switched off his phone. Nobody else texts him anyway. 

He just… everything feels wrong. Everything hurts so stupidly and he feels so pathetic and this stupid part of him keeps saying he should talk to his mom. 

It’s embarrassing. 

But when it’s quarter to one in the morning Connor relents. Maybe she’s still up. Maybe they can… 

Connor finds his mom sitting in the half-lit kitchen. She’s sitting at the kitchen island, wearing her pajamas and a fuzzy bathrobe. 

“Hi,” he ventures. 

She looks at him blankly. None of the warmth from earlier remains in her eyes. She looks annoyed to be found. 

Connor sits next to her anyway. 

He doesn’t know why he sets himself up like this. But this stupid, idiotic part of his brain thinks maybe she’ll like. Give him a hug and tell him things will be okay. 

He knows it’s stupid but he does it anyway. 

“How’s being home?” He asks her. They have this in common. Maybe they can…

Maybe if he  _ tries _ . 

“You know,” his mom says quietly. “I never wanted children.”

Connor feels himself go cold. 

What? 

“Zoe was an accident, that’s always been obvious,” his mom goes on. Her voice is thick. Slurred. She takes a sip from the water glass in front of her. “But so were you.”

Connor’s breath catches. 

“I knew I was supposed to have kids of course,” she goes on. “So when I got pregnant, I knew I couldn’t just change my mind.” She takes another drink. “But the day that plus sign showed up was the worst day of my life.”

Connor doesn’t know what to say. 

She’s drunk. She didn’t even make it one full day of being home. He doesn’t even know where she found booze. 

“I’m sorry,” he says helplessly. He doesn’t know why. He didn’t ask to be born. But it seems like the right thing to say. 

“If I was a stronger person, I would have left. Left all of this behind,” she says. She shakes her head. “My life was not supposed to look like this.”

Connor just watches with morbid fascination as she drains her glass. 

“Mom…”

He can’t help it. He still wants to make this better, he still wants to  _ try.  _

She looks at him sharply. “Are you going to tell your father about why Zoe’s date went so badly? The real reason?”

Connor doesn’t know what she means. Did Zoe tell her? 

“How your nasty tendencies are infecting other people? Ruining our reputation?”

Connor feels his face burn. 

“I didn’t think you would,” she says. “You like playing the victim too much.”

“I’m s-sorry. I didn’t… it’s not even true. He’s not even…”

She gets up and rinses her glass in the sink. 

“Mom,” Connor tries again. “You’re drunk. Y-you just got home you… please you can’t be doing this you need help-”

“Did you like Hanover?” She asks. It’s so surprising that it almost gives him whiplash. 

“Not really.”

“If you tell anyone about this,” she says, her tone light. “You’ll be on the next flight out of here. Boarding school, military school, I don’t especially care. But you’ll be out of here and far away from your little friend Evan faster than you can say ‘sorry.’”

She switches off the light, plunging Connor and the kitchen into darkness. 

* * *

Zoe dreads school on Monday. She tries faking sick. Crawling into bed with her mom and saying she doesn’t feel good and she wants to stay home. 

But her mom sees through it. She sighs at Zoe. “I know the date was bad,” she tells Zoe matter-of-factly, “But if you don’t go today, then people will  _ realize  _ how stupid you were to give him the time of day.”

Her mom is  _ right  _ of course. Zoe just hates it. And it’s not like she can admit that it’s not just her bad date she needs to deal with. 

Her memory is patchy about the party, but Sabrina filled her in on Saturday morning before she went home. 

Mostly because Zoe wanted to know why she woke up in her brother’s too-big hoodie and an unbuttoned shirt. 

“You got pretty wasted,” Sabrina told her. “You were drinking like… a lot. You took off your dress and danced on a table. Started screaming at Evan about how he’s gay…” Sabrina had given her this pale smile. “Connor could tell immediately that you were doing coke?”

Zoe had rolled her eyes. “So?”

“Just… you know. He’s had issues with drugs. And your mom…”

Zoe had told Sabrina to go then. 

It’s a nightmare. She can’t believe she lost control like that. Embarrassed herself like that. 

So she goes to school on Monday. Prepares herself for it to be bad. 

But nobody is really talking about Zoe. Everyone is talking about Melissa Edmonds. 

Melissa apparently ODed at the party. Had to be taken to the hospital. People were doing bumps off of her stomach and tits before someone noticed she was hot to the touch and unconscious. Some brain called 911 and busted the party. 

A lot of people got underage tickets because they didn’t get out of there fast enough. 

So that’s what people are whispering about in the halls. 

Madison managed to avoid getting caught and sidles up to Zoe at lunch and jokes about how screwed Melissa is since she got caught. 

“Her parents are  _ pissed,  _ Murph. They’re talking about pulling a Quitter and transferring her to some boarding school out East.”

Zoe’s mind catches on “Quitter.”

A memory floats back to her. 

Shit. 

She screamed that. At Connor. 

Shit. 

“Madison,” Zoe says, angrily. “I told you not to call him that.”

Madison shrugs. “Please. It doesn’t  _ mean _ anything.”

Zoe doesn’t know exactly what it means. But the way Connor acts when he hears it… 

It’s definitely not  _ nothing.  _

Zoe makes it through the day. A few guys joke around with her and tell her to take her top off and Zoe tries to let it roll off her back, tries to pretend it’s not embarrassing as hell to know they all saw her basically naked. 

But she makes it through the day. 

Sabrina comes over after school. They go to the pool house and Zoe suggests they smoke some weed after she finds Connor’s stash hidden under the bathroom sink. 

“Should you really be…?” Sabrina asks. 

“It’s just weed,” Zoe says defensively. 

Sabrina relents. They share a joint. Make out a little bit. Lazy and unhurried and nice. 

Suddenly Zoe remembers that Sabrina is in Connor’s grade. She is so stupid. 

“Hey,” she says while Sabrina kisses her neck. “Can we stop a sec?”

Sabrina looks confused. Her eyes are all bloodshot. They practically look pink. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re in Connor’s grade.”

“...yeah?”

“Why  _ do  _ people call him Quitter?” She asks. “Everybody was already calling him that when I started at Harbor.”

“You don’t know?” Zoe shakes her head. Sabrina looks uncomfortable. “You should ask your brother.”

Zoe rolls her eyes. “Like he’d actually tell me.”

“I don’t think it should be me,” Sabrina says. 

“Come on,” Zoe says with a laugh. “Like I know he doesn’t like it and whatever but it can’t be that bad. People definitely call him worse things. Tell me.”

Sabrina bites her lip. “It… when he was out of school for a while freshman year? Everybody knew what happened.”

Zoe nods. She sort of wondered. 

“Because someone… people say it was Jared but I don’t know. Someone found this note he left? Like in his locker. They made all these copies. Shoved them into people’s lockers.”

Zoe feels her ears start to ring. “There was a note?”

Sabrina looks confused. “You didn’t know?”

Zoe shakes her head. 

“But you’re his sister,” Sabrina says. “I thought… even if you hadn’t read it…”

“Have you read it?” Zoe demands. 

Sabrina nods. “It was. So sad?” She looks sad. “Like people make fun of him for it now but, like, it was really fucking sad. He talked all about how, like, he didn’t think he fit anywhere and how it hurt all the time to just…”

“To just what?”

“Be  _ alive.  _ It made me cry, you know? And I don’t think he wanted people at school reading it really but everybody did and… there was this line in it. Where he was saying, like, he didn’t want to be weak, he didn’t want to be a quitter but he… couldn’t keep going.” She shakes her head. “And when he came back to school a couple of weeks later, everyone knew. Even his friends. Or the people who used to be his friends.”

Zoe feels sick. 

She feels sick. 

She called him Quitter and she didn’t even know. She didn’t even  _ know.  _

“Oh my god, I’m such an  _ asshole _ .”

Sabrina frowns at her. “You could apologize,” she says. 

Zoe rolls her eyes. “Like he’d even listen.”

“You could  _ try. _ ”

Zoe disagrees. 

* * *

Monday morning, Heidi goes to work super early, telling Evan she’ll do her best to be home on time tonight. Apologizes a million times. 

He isn’t holding his breath. She’s been so busy.

Probably before he arrived, she could handle being this busy, but he’s just… a massive time suck. 

A huge drain. 

He’s making her life so much  _ worse _ . 

It takes him a while to realize that he can’t just  _ assume  _ Connor’s driving him to school today. Connor hasn’t been answering his texts, hasn’t talked to him all weekend. 

Evan wanted to go over and demand he talk to him, but he hadn’t wanted to face Zoe. 

He’s so stupid. 

So fucking stupid. 

Evan figures he’ll just… go over. Meet Connor at his garage like normal, ignore Zoe and…

Fuck. 

He can’t just assume Connor’s not going to tell him to fuck off. He can’t assume that Connor’s ever going to speak to him again after Evan… didn’t fuck his sister. 

And Connor doesn’t trust him, anyway. 

Fucking hell, this is a goddamn nightmare. 

Evan steels himself for a walk to school. Puts on sneakers. It’ll be long, sure, and he might be late, but it’s better than fucking humiliating himself and showing up to Connor’s like everything’s fine, like he’s stupid and naive and expecting things to be okay. 

_ You  _ are  _ stupid and naive, _ the voice in his head sneers.  _ And you’re alone like you fucking should be. Asshole. _

He makes it to the bottom of the shared driveway to find Connor’s car sitting there. His face burns. He keeps walking. 

Connor rolls down his window. Leans his head out the window. 

“What are you waiting for, an engraved invitation?” he calls out, clearly irritated. “Get in the car.”

Evan feels his cheeks burn in shame, but does what he’s asked. 

Connor stops at the Starbucks drive-through. Orders a caramel macchiato and a small black coffee, then pauses, and orders a cinnamon bun. 

When they go to get their orders, he hands Evan his coffee and the cinnamon bun without comment. 

“What’s this?” Evan asks. 

Connor rolls his eyes. “It’s a unicorn.”

“I know what it  _ is _ ,” Evan replies, frowning. “I just… why?”

“You order them sometimes,” Connor replies curtly. “When you’re having a fucking bad day.”

Evan blinks. He had… no idea Connor noticed that. 

No idea at all. 

“Thank you,” he says, not sure what else to say. 

“I’m sorry I was a moody asshole,” Connor mumbles. “And I’m sorry that your date sucked.”

“Not your fault,” Evan replies, frowning. He bites his lip. “Connor-”

“Don’t want to talk about the rest of it,” Connor interrupts firmly. His face twists painfully. “Can’t. Okay?”

Evan swallows. “Okay.”

“Great,” says Connor, putting his coffee in the cupholder. “Good talk.”

With that, he puts on My Chemical Romance and cranks his speakers up as loud as they can go, which is pretty loud thanks to the sound system he got for Christmas. 

Evan can’t get rid of the uneasy feeling in his stomach. 

The certainty that he’s fucked everything up. 

When they get to school, people are looking at them. Pointing and laughing and whispering. Evan shifts uncomfortable, feeling vulnerable and exposed at the attention. 

Over and over again, he hears the word faggot slung in his direction. 

It…

Fuck. He hates it. He hates it so much, it hurts like hell. He wants to deny it, to stand up on a table and announce to the whole school that he’s  _ not fucking gay.  _

He doesn’t, obviously. 

He probably wouldn’t get the words out, anyway. 

_ “Retard. Stupid… fucking retarded faggot.” _

That’s what Zoe called him on Friday night. 

Fuck. Fuck, that’s… brutal. He did not expect that, he…

_ You didn’t expect it? Wow, you really  _ are  _ retarded.  _

In biology class, Alana Beck is wearing a deep frown. 

“We need to talk to faculty about the homophobic hate speech,” she says, her tone professional and unhappy. “This is completely unacceptable, people need to be aware of the history behind these slurs and why they shouldn’t be using them.”

Evan blinks. Tries desperately not to, like, lose it in front of Alana. 

Alana seems to notice how upset he is. Frowns even more. 

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I can’t imagine how frustrating and horrible it must be to have been deprived of the opportunity to come out on your terms. I am so sorry.”

Evan feels his chest twist painfully. “I’m n-n-not gay,” he manages to choke out. “It’s… I’m not.”

Alana’s eyes widen. She opens her mouth, like she’s going to argue, then closes it. Nods. “I didn’t mean to assume,” she says, not quite apologetically, and Evan’s hit with a wave of irritation that she doesn’t fucking believe him. 

He meets Connor before lunch to head to their lockers. Connor takes in a sharp, painful sounding breath and Evan follows his gaze to see that someone has graffitied his locker. 

The word ‘FAGOT’ is written across it in black sharpie. 

“Jesus,” Connor mutters. He sounds so fucking sad. He looks at Evan, something pained in his expression. “Least they could do is spell it properly. Thought this was supposed to be a good school.”

The joke falls completely flat. 

Evan can’t fucking help it. He punches the door hard, sending pain all the way through his arm, feeling his knuckles split. 

It’s gonna leave a nasty bruise, he can tell, but the pain is almost comforting, almost a distraction from the screaming in his head. 

Fuck this. Fuck this fuck it fuck fuck fuck fuck he hates this he hates it he could kill whoever wrote this fuck fuck  _ fuck _ .

Connor pulls some hand sanitizer and a packet of Kleenex out of his bag. Quickly and efficiently removes the word, like it was never there. 

The way he does it…

It’s like he’s done it before. 

He probably has. 

Evan hates that, hates that so fucking much. Is this what it’s always been like for Connor? Is this normal for him?

Fuck. _ Fuck.  _

Evan wants to burn this whole fucking place to the ground. Destroy all these homophobic rich assholes, fuck.

Connor goes to throw the used Kleenex in the trash, then comes back to Evan’s locker, frowning. 

He opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again. His shoulders sag. 

“Maybe it’s best if we’re not seen together at school,” he says quietly. “Just… rumors, you know?”

Evan feels that like a punch, like the time his dad broke his collarbone, it hurts it hurts it hurts. 

Connor looks… closed off. “Everyone knows  _ I’m _ gay,” he continues dully. “Don’t want to drag you down with me.”

Evan wills himself not to cry. He wants to beg Connor not to leave him, he wants to tell Connor that he can’t fucking do this alone, not to leave him, not to fucking leave. 

“If th-that’s what y-you want,” he manages to stammer out. 

Connor flinches. He looks horribly sad for a moment. “Obviously I’ll still drive you,” he says, a little weakly. “And we can hang out after school if you want. Just… maybe we don’t have lunch together anymore.”

Evan hates that he hates it so much how will he know if Connor’s eating if he doesn’t have lunch with him? How will he know he’s okay?

He opens his mouth to argue, then closes it. 

Because Connor doesn’t trust him. Connor doesn’t…

He must be so fucking sick of Evan always giving him shit about food, nagging him, spouting off his stupid lame food facts. 

_ He just wants you gone. He’s done with you, he’s just trying to be kind.  _

“Okay,” Evan says. “Th-that… okay.”

What else can he say?

* * *

Heidi hates that she spent almost the entire weekend at work. Hates that she’s been so busy. 

She used to be better at this, she thinks. The whole balancing work and life. 

Yeah, but you didn’t have a kid then, she reminds herself. It changes everything. 

She’s barely seen Evan. They’d talked a little bit on Saturday morning. He’d been up early, looking tired and worn out, and she’d asked how his date with Zoe had gone. 

His face had twisted unhappily. “N-not so good,” he’d admitted. “She, uh…. I d-don’t think we’re g-going to work out.”

Heidi’s heart had sunk a little. He’d looked so sad. 

“What happened?”

Evan had kind of twitched then. “I d-don’t w-want to get into it? If-if-if that’s okay.”

Heidi had nodded. She’d been about to ask him if he wanted to go grab breakfast when she’d gotten a phone call, which resulted in her spending pretty much the entire weekend at work on a case. 

He’s been quiet ever since then, quiet in a way he hasn’t been since he first arrived, and Heidi doesn’t know what to do. 

On Wednesday she has a brunch meeting with a former colleague to discuss a case she’s working on. Cheryl wants to meet at this stupid restaurant that all the high society ladies frequent, somewhere that does stupidly expensive food that’s also somehow tiny. 

Part of her wants to argue but she really needs Cheryl’s advice on this one, so she sucks it up. 

Cheryl’s late, which shouldn’t surprise her, but she’s booked a table, which also shouldn’t surprise her. Heidi goes to take a seat when she hears someone calling her name. 

She looks over to see Jenny Kleinman sitting at a nearby table, next to Cynthia Murphy. 

Cynthia’s out of rehab?

When did  _ that  _ happen?

Fuck. She hasn’t been checking in with Larry enough, she…

Fuck. 

“Heidi!” says Jenny, standing up and giving her a pathetic hug and a kiss on each cheek. “What are you doing here?”

“Brunch meeting with Cheryl Markham,” she says, a little stunned. She looks at Cynthia, whose chin is raised defiantly, her expression cool and collected. “You two having brunch?”

“We’re just catching up,” says Jenny breezily. “Come sit with us for a bit.”

Heidi looks toward the door, hoping like hell that Cheryl will show up and save her from this. “I should really-”

“Please join us,” says Cynthia, her voice a strange combination of frosty and warm, like a sunny day in winter back east. “We haven’t had a chance to sit down and really talk in so long.”

“Cheryl will be late anyway,” Jenny says dismissively. “Live a little. I’ll get you a mimosa.” She waves down a waiter. 

Cynthia takes a sip of her drink, then looks at Heidi. “Orange juice,” she says. “Obviously.”

Heidi doesn’t know if she believes her, but she’s not about to call her on it. 

This is going to be fucking awful enough as it is. 

Heidi sits down, feeling strangely like she’s getting into an electric chair or being strapped into a lie detector or something. 

This is such a fucking bad idea. 

But she’s lived here long enough to know it would be worse if she just up and left. 

“So,” Jenny says with an almost feral grin. “Larry said that Zoe went on a date with your nephew. That’s very cute. How did it go?”

“I don’t think Evan’s right for Zoe,” Cynthia says immediately, looking at Heidi challengingly. “They both need people better suited for each other, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I think they’re sixteen and should be focusing on school,” Heidi says, trying to keep her composure. 

Jenny laughs, this annoying nasal sound. “Come on, Heidi, don’t you remember being sixteen? School’s the last thing on your mind.” She looks at Cynthia and smiles a little condescendingly. “I remember you and David being so dramatic. It was like watching a soap opera, trying to figure out what was going on with you two.”

Cynthia raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “It’s funny,” she says quietly. “I don’t remember you from high school at all.”

Jenny’s cheeks flush, but she shoots Heidi a glance then turns back to Cynthia. “There’s always that couple in high school,” she continues, something stubborn in her tone. “You always wonder how it’ll end up for them.” She looks back at Heidi. “Then again, it’s a good thing for you that it didn’t work out, isn’t it?”

Cynthia doesn’t even blink. “How good could it be?” she says, sounding almost bored. “David wanted kids. He died without passing on the family name. Not that it would have mattered anyway since Heidi insisted on keeping her maiden name.”

Heidi pictures throwing the mimosa the waiter’s just put in front of her in Cynthia’s face. 

Pictures smashing a side plate over her head. 

She hates this woman, she realizes suddenly. Genuinely hates her. 

She can’t believe she ever thought they were friends. 

“It really is a shame that you never had children of your own,” Jenny says. She’s using a sympathetic tone but her eyes are gleaming like she’s having the time of her life. “You never really understand love until you have children.”

Heidi manages to restrain herself from pointing out to Jenny that her husband is gay and her son is a drug dealer. But only just. 

“So when are Evan’s parents getting back from Europe?” Cynthia asks in this faux-innocent voice. “Or will they be sending for Evan soon? He’s been here a while now and no one seems to know why he’s here in the first place.”

“He’s family,” Heidi says, trying not to sound like she’s envisaging stabbing Cynthia in the eye with a salad fork. “He’s my family, and he’ll be here as long as he needs to be.”

Jenny leans in a little. “Did I hear it was a move to Germany?” she asks. “I know your brother’s in architecture.”

“Funny,” says Cynthia breezily. “I thought Evan said real estate.”

“It’s a bit of both,” Heidi says with a shrug. She doesn’t touch her mimosa, though she’s definitely still thinking about throwing it in Cynthia’s face. 

Although that’s probably a bad idea since she’s just back from rehab. 

_ Orange juice, my ass, _ Heidi thinks, looking at Cynthia’s glass. 

Her phone rings. 

Oh, thank god. 

“I’ll just be a moment,” she says apologetically, then stands up and moves a little ways away so she can take the call. 

It’s Cheryl. She’s been held up. They’ll have to reschedule. 

Heidi has a thousand other things she should be doing and she’s come all this way but  _ sure _ , Cheryl can fucking reschedule, fuck.

She hasn’t got time for this. She goes back to Jenny and Cynthia and tells them with the barest hint of apology that she needs to get back to the office. 

Jenny pouts a little. “It’s been so long since we’ve caught up. Stay a little longer.”

Cynthia just looks at her, expression bored. “I’m sure Heidi’s far too busy and important to waste her time talking to us,” she says condescendingly. 

_ Finally, something she and Cynthia can agree on.  _

“Have a good brunch,” Heidi replies and gets out of there as fast as she can. 

* * *

School has always been kind of tough socially, but after Evan’s failed date with Zoe and the nightmare at the party, it shifts gears in a big way. 

People are openly hostile to him, instead of regarding him with curiosity or interest. People whisper about him, talk about him openly, look at him, and laugh… 

It’s awful. It’s infuriating. 

Brian and Chad seem to be on a mission to make Evan’s life hell. They do everything short of actually picking a fight with him, and part of Evan is just itching to take a swing. 

Desperate for it. 

Everything inside him is screaming to let loose, to give in to the rage and the pain and just beat these fuckers to a pulp.

But he doesn’t. 

He won’t do that to Heidi. 

Heidi, who has been unfailingly kind and good to him, doesn’t deserve that bullshit. 

He’s angry and hurt and fucking devastated, but he cares about Heidi more than all of that bullshit. 

Not only that, but he feels… weird. Off. Like he’s got a fucking low battery or some shit. He’s tired and achy and it’s hard to concentrate. 

He’s being such a little  _ bitch  _ about this, fucking hell. 

_ Why are you even surprised?  _ sneers the voice in his head.  _ Zoe was never going to want you. She  _ never  _ wanted you. She wanted something else, she wanted the fake version of you. You’re not enough for her. You’re not enough for anyone. You should just fucking quit while you’re ahead. Clock out while you’ve got the chance.  _

He starts adding more to the bag in his closet. Packing and repacking, trying to get as much in the small space as possible. Trying to think about the practicalities. 

If he loses it completely. If he does something he can’t take back and Heidi’s done with him permanently, he needs a plan. 

Needs a fucking plan. 

With the money he’s saved up, he could easily get on a Greyhound out of state. Get far away enough that Heidi couldn’t find him, even if she looked. 

He’s looked it up. It takes a full 24 hours on a bus to get to Idaho. 

No one’s going to fucking look for him in Idaho. 

_If you really want to get away,_ the voice in his head tells him, _then go back to Chino._ _Tell Mark how everyone thinks you’re a fag because you wouldn’t fuck Zoe Murphy. Tell him about your weird gay sex dream about Connor. That’ll take care of things permanently._

He needs a new fake ID, he realizes as he’s going through his shit and notices he’s down to three cigarettes. He tried to buy cigarettes at the beginning of December. The guy took one look at it, rolled his eyes, and told him he was full of shit. Kept the ID and kicked him out of the store. 

He’s been relying on Connor for cigarettes since then.

If he’s leaving, then he’s got to sort that shit out. 

It’s a stupid, disgusting habit, anyway, but it keeps him… steady, sometimes. 

He’ll need that when he leaves. 

If he leaves. 

When he leaves. 

Fuck. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing. 

“So hey,” he says to Connor casually after school, a week or so after the date with Zoe. Connor’s actually at Evan’s place. Actually agreed to hang out with him. They’re studying in his room. “Where did you get your fake ID?”

Connor blinks. Looks at him quizzically, then recognition dawns. “Right, you got yours taken off you in December.” He frowns. “I can buy you cigarettes, dude. You probably shouldn’t, like, risk being caught with a fake ID.”

Evan shrugs. “It’s n-n-not a b-b-big deal,” he says, trying desperately to sound casual but failing entirely. 

All he does is fail these days. 

Connor frowns. Tilts his head a little. “Evan.”

“I d-don’t want to k-k-k-keep bumming cigarettes off you,” Evan says, a little harsher than he means to. “I’m not g-gonna take advantage of you like that, I’m not  _ Miguel _ .”

Connor visibly recoils. 

His whole face shuts down. 

Evan feels like an asshole. 

_ You  _ are  _ an asshole, _ the voice in his head reminds him.  _ You’re a fucking disaster dressed as a person and you’re fucking everything up. Everyone here would be better off without you. _

He hasn’t got the energy to tell the voice to shut up. 

“Jeff Markham,” Connor mutters. “He’s in our English class. He does good fakes.”

“Thank you,” Evan replies quietly. “I’m s-sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Connor mutters, his voice even quieter. “Don’t worry about it.”

Why did he bring up Miguel?

What the fuck is wrong with him?

Is he  _ trying  _ to make Connor hate him? Hate him more than he already does for dating his sister and fucking it all up?

_ First smart thing you’ve done in months, _ the voice in his head says mockingly.  _ Let this kid get free of your bullshit. Of keeping your secret for you. Why the  _ fuck  _ are you such a selfish asshole, Evan? Why don’t you just get the fuck out of here? _

He doesn’t want to go, he tells himself. Not really. 

_ Liar. You’re a fucking liar. You’re always fucking lying. _

“Hey,” says Connor after a while. “You got a copy of that guy’s book about color and emotion, right? From the workshop in D.C.?”

Evan nods. “Yeah,” he says. “I, uh, I think it’s still in my suitcase. It’s in my closet, you can go grab it.”

It’s not until Connor takes in a sharp breath moments later that Evan realizes his mistake. 

“What the fuck is this?” Connor demands, holding up his bag. It’s open, Evan sees, because he was stupid and he left it open. It’s obvious from the bus timetables and the ziplock bag full of cash and the clothing exactly what it is. 

He can’t bullshit his way out of this one. 

“It’s j-j-j-j-just in c-c-c-case,” he says, his voice shaking. “It’s not… I’m n-n-not…”

“You’re leaving,” Connor says flatly. He looks… fucking crushed. “You’re just going to pack up and run off? Leave Heidi, after everything she’s done for you? Because, what, you had a bad date with my sister? What the fuck is  _ wrong  _ with you?”

“It’s in-in-insurance,” Evan says desperately. “It’s n-not… I’m not pl-planning on going an-anywhere, I…”

“How long have you had this?” Connor demands. His nose and cheeks are red and blotchy. Evan hates it so much. “How long have you been planning to just bail when things get hard?”

The blood is rushing in his ears and his heart is beating too too fast and he can’t hold it in. “You d-don’t know what it’s like! I d-don’t have a choice, I have to be  _ smart  _ about this, in c-case it all goes wrong. In case Heidi changes her mind about me.” 

Connor recoils again, like Evan’s physically punched him. “She’s not going to do that. She loves you.”

“Nobody  _ loves  _ me,” Evan spits out. His shoulders ache from the tension he’s holding them with. “And-and I can’t go b-back to foster care. I’m nearly seventeen, no-no one will want me? If I want a chance at a f-future I have to be  _ prepared _ . For the worst.”

Connor looks like he’s got something to say. 

Looks like there’s something on the tip of his tongue. 

For a stupid, desperate moment, Evan thinks that Connor’s going to tell him that  _ he  _ loves him. 

It passes. 

Connor’s not going to say that. 

He’s not saying anything, just staring at Evan in shock. 

_ At least he’s not lying to you, _ the voice in his head taunts.  _ At least he’s being honest. You’re a liar and a fake and a fraud, you could do with some brutal honesty sometimes.  _

* * *

Connor nearly just ruined everything. 

He nearly said it. 

He can’t say that to Evan. Evan doesn’t  _ want _ him. He would be disgusted if Connor said that he…

Evan knows how utterly fucked up Connor is. He’s worked it out. 

“How can you say that?” Connor says instead. His voice is shaking. “Heidi… she loves you. She loves you so much she’s thinking about uprooting her entire life, her practice, everything to make  _ you  _ happy.”

Evan opens his mouth. Closes it. Shakes his head. “No that’s…  _ she  _ has people there. I’m j-just an easy excuse t-to leave I’m just…”

“How the fuck can you say she doesn’t love you?” Connor says again, angrier suddenly. “She  _ picked _ you. She didn’t get  _ stuck  _ with you. She chose you. She took you in and-and she. She loves you, it’s so obvious, she just…. does.”

Evan shakes his head. “No. She. She’s nice. She’s a nice p-person, sh-she feels sorry for me she-” His face is closed off. Angry. It’s unnerving. “She doesn’t want me. She didn’t pick me; she got l-l-landed with me because I’m. Stupid and-and reckless and-and…”

“No,” Connor says. “She could have let you get put back into the system. She didn’t have to keep you around. She  _ picked _ you. And you. You don’t hear how she talks about you when you’re not around, Evan. She would take a fucking bullet for you. She loves you so much it’s… you can’t say she doesn’t care, you’re  _ wrong _ .” 

“She’s n-nice an-and she’s k-k-kind but _trust_ _me_ we both know I’m n-not the kid she wanted.”

Connor takes a step back. He feels like he could totally lose it. “She calls you her kid!” He protests. “She calls you her kid whenever she talks about you, she cares about you more than she cares about  _ anybody. _ ”

“She’s just… she feels guilty because she and David didn’t have kids, she f-feels bad because she thinks  _ he _ would have liked me, she doesn’t really know me.” 

Connor blinks. He blinks a few times. Remembers suddenly how Heidi was in the hospital for a few days when he was little. She’d had a miscarriage. His mom told him that Aunt Heidi’s baby died and not to mention it. They’d gone to visit as a family and Heidi cried when Connor and Zoe walked in the room with a “get better soon” card they spent the whole morning working on. 

His dad had ushered them out quickly and apologized a lot. Told them Heidi was sad because of the baby. 

Zoe had been excited about having a cousin. Connor was a shithead and kept telling her they wouldn’t  _ really  _ be cousins. 

Connor looks at Evan. “She doesn’t want you because she… thinks she missed out on being a mom. She wants you because she loves you, you ungrateful asshole. She wants to be your fucking  _ mom _ .”

“No,” Evan says stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest. “She doesn’t. She h-hasn’t said anything about-about adopting me so sh-she just. Feels bad. She doesn’t really want me. She’s just. Running out the clock. She’s-she’s stupidly k-k-kind and scared of how it would look if she got rid of me.”

Connor can’t believe what he’s hearing. His chest hurts. He’s so angry. He doesn’t know what to say to get through to Evan, to make him see that he’s got it all wrong. 

“She’ll get s-sick of me eventually,” Evan said, his voice cold. Detached. “They all get sick of me eventually. Nobody wants me.”

_ I do.  _

_ I want you, you idiot. You moron, _ I  _ want you.  _

Connor doesn’t say it. 

He finds himself blinking back tears. “You are so stupid,” he says angrily. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, okay? Trust me. I know she wants you. I know Heidi loves you. I  _ know  _ she wants to be your mom.”

“Oh yeah? And h-h-how’s that? Did she tell you?” Evan spits. 

“I know because  _ my  _ mom doesn’t fucking love me okay?” Connor shouts. His voice is shaking. He’s shaking. “She’s disgusted by me, she’s disappointed… she hates me. She… she fucking  _ told me  _ she doesn’t want me. That she hates being a mom. So shut up? Just fucking shut up. You don’t know what you’re even talking about. Heidi loves you and you’re… you’re scared and being stupid. You’re planning to throw it back in her face like the ungrateful coward that you are.” 

“Fuck you!” Evan shouts. 

“Fuck  _ you _ !” Connor returns. He viciously zips up Evan’s backpack. Throws it over his shoulder and heads for the door. 

“What are you doing?” shouts Evan. He’s following Connor closely. 

Connor’s grateful he’s got long legs because if Evan caught up with him he would  _ definitely  _ get punched. Connor’s good in a fight but Evan is ruthless. He might beat him half to death without even realizing. “I’m fucking taking this until you get your head out of your ass!”

“Give it back. Please,” Evan almost pleads. He seems out of breath just from following Connor down the stairs. 

“No,” Connor says coldly. He heads out the front door, the bag still over his shoulder. 

When he gets home, Connor hides the bag in the piles of clothes his mom has bought him but he’s never worn. The tags are still on most of them. Nobody would think to go looking for anything there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "But It’s Better if You Do," by Panic! At The Disco.


	33. Dream of Demons While You Sleep That Make You Stutter When You Speak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan gets sick, and Heidi and Connor learn more about his past.

It’s quiet on the ride to school the next day. 

Connor doesn’t say anything. Just sits there in silence. 

Evan’s fucking surprised that Connor even drove him to school today, after their screaming match last night. But Heidi had gone to work early, so he’d just… showed up at the Murphy house like normal and hoped for the best. 

Connor hadn’t told him to fuck off, so that’s something. 

Evan wants to fix things, wants to make things better, but he doesn’t have the words. 

Or the energy. 

He’s… exhausted. 

Every part of his body aches. His head is pounding and his body can’t decide if he’s hot or cold and he just… feels like garbage. 

He shouldn’t have spilled all that shit to Connor last night. Shouldn’t have been vulnerable, shouldn’t have gotten all insecure and horrible and stupid on Connor. 

Connor doesn’t deserve that. 

He’s got his own shit to deal with, he doesn’t need Evan’s, too. 

And he doesn’t trust Evan, so why does Evan  _ insist _ on telling him things he probably doesn’t even want to hear?

He needs to… let this blow over, and get his bag back. 

There’s, like, close to a grand in there. He needs that insurance, needs that security. Without it, he feels… 

Exposed. 

Vulnerable. 

Helpless. 

The day goes by slowly and quickly, all at once. It drags on and on, but there are chunks of time that Evan feels like he’s missing. 

He and Connor don’t eat lunch together anymore. Evan misses him especially painfully during lunch today. He can’t bring himself to eat, because he feels like shit.

Evan locks himself in a bathroom stall and closes his eyes, resting his head against the cool of the wall. 

His head feels like it’s burning.

He didn’t sleep well. Kept thinking about how Connor had yelled at him. 

Called him an ungrateful asshole. 

_ You  _ are  _ an ungrateful asshole, _ the voice in his head says, acidic and unrelenting.  _ You’re an ungrateful asshole and a waste of space and everyone would be better off without you.  _

Zoe sits with some guy Evan doesn’t know and flirts blatantly all through study hall, sending him disdainful looks the whole time. 

During English, Connor sits next to him as usual, but he doesn’t say much. Just stuff that’s related to the class. He’s quiet and withdrawn, like he can’t even look at Evan, and Evan knows he deserves it. 

Knows he deserves this. 

Connor’s been pulling away since D.C., Evan knows. He knows he’s getting sick of him. 

_ You ungrateful asshole.  _

Evan had planned to stay at school to go to the tutoring group. That’s what he said he’d do this morning in the brief conversation he and Connor had actually had. 

But his head is pounding and he feels cold and hot and awful and he can’t face anyone right now. 

Not like this. 

He’d lose it completely if he stayed. Everyone would see how completely broken and useless he really is. 

“H-hey,” he says quietly to Connor as they’re packing up. “C-can I get a r-ride?”

Connor looks at him and blinks. “I thought you were going to tutoring.”

Evan shrugs. Looks down. He wants to go home. 

“I just want to go back to Heidi’s.”

Connor blinks. Looks pained. “Okay,” he says, his voice hesitant. “Come on.”

The drive home feels like it takes forever. Evan keeps his eyes closed for most of it. He feels sick to his stomach, his head is killing him and he can’t stop shaking. 

His dad’s going to be so pissed if he’s sick. 

He hates it when Evan’s sick. It makes him so mad. He hates having to look after Evan, hates having him underfoot. It makes him mad. 

Makes him  _ mean.  _

It’s harder to stay out of his way when he’s sick, too. 

He’ll have to hide again. It’s gonna be harder now that he’s not a kid anymore, but he can do it. 

He always does. 

“Dude,” says a voice from underwater. “Evan. You okay?”

“Fine,” Evan says, trying to make the words make sense. They’re swimming around him, floating past, and he can’t grab them like he should, can’t make them make sense. 

There’s an arm around his shoulder. “Fuck,” says that underwater voice, and Evan distantly notices he’s walking, he’s moving, he’s standing by a door and he can hear something jangling and then he’s going up the stairs and someone’s handing him something soft. 

“Get changed into these,” says the voice from underwater, echoing around him. “You need to sleep and you shouldn’t do it in fucking jeans.”

Evan figures he should listen. Takes off his shoes and his jeans and puts on sweatpants and sits and waits. 

“Lie down, okay?”

He does what he’s told. It makes sense, he guesses, and he’s so tired. He can do that, he can handle following instructions right now. 

There’s more talking and words he can’t quite follow and he closes his eyes and puts his head on the pillow. It’s cool against his face. 

A hand on his head. 

Cool. Feels nice.

He tries to say that but isn’t sure he gets the words out. 

Everything feels like it’s happening at once, like he’s floating, lazily drifting, his mind going in and out like the tide. 

“It’s been ages,” he says quietly. 

There’s a pause. “Since what?” asks Connor. 

“Since we went to the beach house together.” Evan frowns. “I miss it.”

He feels something lurch. Feels everything around him spinning, like he’s stuck in a tornado, like he’s in the Wizard of Oz and is about to land on a witch or something. 

His mom has a pair of red shoes. 

She calls them her ruby slippers. They don’t sparkle, not like the ones in the movie, but they’re shiny and they make her happy. 

Evan likes it when his mom is happy. 

He wishes she were always happy. Wishes he could always make her happy, that she wasn’t so sad all the time. 

Evan opens his eyes and realizes he’s in bed. 

He’s in bed. 

He shouldn’t be in bed, he realizes with a sinking feeling. That’s, like,  _ asking  _ to get the shit beaten out of him. If his dad finds him in bed, he’ll lose it. He’ll go fucking batshit on him, kick his ass for being weak. 

When he was little, he could just hide under the bed. In the closet. In a pile of blankets in a corner so he’d just think Evan was a pile of laundry. 

Mark never pays much attention to laundry. 

He’s shaking, his head hurts, but he has to get away. He has to get somewhere safe if he’s sick, somewhere Mark can’t find him. He’s vulnerable like this. He needs to be fucking sensible. 

He grabs as many blankets as he can carry. Heads through the house, the apartment neverending. No Elaine, no Mark, just Evan and a marble staircase that doesn’t make sense. 

He’s imagining things, he realizes.

His life doesn’t have marble fucking staircases. 

He stumbles through the streets. Maybe he can go to the library?

That’s dumb, he tells himself. Other people will get sick if he goes to the library. 

He doesn’t want to do that. 

He opens the door to the pool house. He and Connor hang out in the Murphys’ pool house sometimes. 

So fucking weird, a pool having a house. 

Pools don’t need houses. People need houses. 

He has to hide from Mark. So he doesn’t get his ass kicked. 

He puts his pile of blankets down in the corner of the room then curls up into a ball in the middle of them. Pulls one over his legs, his face, so no one can see him. 

No one can find him here. He’ll be safe until this is all over. 

* * *

Fuck. Shit. 

Connor’s a shithead. 

Evan’s sick. He’s really sick. 

Connor didn’t even notice anything was wrong until Evan asked if Connor could drive him home. 

He just thought he was being an asshole. 

But Evan’s never an asshole. Not really. It should have tipped Connor off but he was so busy being pissed that Evan has an escape plan that he didn’t even consider that he wasn’t  _ okay.  _

Connor helps Evan up to his room. He’s swaying unsteadily. He has to prompt him to change and to lie down. 

Evan slumps against the bed. He doesn’t look good. He’s pale and there’s a sheen of sweat on his face and he’s shivering. Connor pulls the covers up over him tighter. 

Evan’s brow creases. He lets out this small sound. Kind of like a whimper. Pulls the blankets around him tightly. 

“Cold,” Evan complains softly, curling into a ball. 

Connor doesn’t know what he’s doing. So he does what his mom always did when he was little and sick. He presses his hand to Evan’s forehead. 

It’s hot under his hand. 

Evan sighs. His face relaxes a little. “S’nice,” he says. His brow creases again and he shivers violently. 

“Evan?” Connor tries. He wants to make sure Evan’s like. Still here. This is scaring him. 

It’s freaky. 

“Hm?” Evan says. He opens his eyes for a second and looks around unseeing. His eyes close again. 

Connor has never in his life felt more seventeen. He’s seventeen. He can’t help with this. This is… this requires a mom. A parent. 

And Evan doesn’t have any of those but he does have Heidi, despite what he thinks. Connor needs to call Heidi. 

She can help. 

That’s what she wants to do. 

“It’s been ages,” Evan says suddenly. His eyes open. He’s surprisingly coherent. 

Connor’s not sure what he means “Since what?” asks Connor. 

“Since we went to the beach house together.” Evan sighs. He frowns. “I miss it.”

And then he’s out. Totally out. 

Connor creeps quietly out of the room. Takes out his phone and dials Heidi. 

Voicemail. 

Connor bites his lip. 

He feels bad calling her at work but… Evan shouldn’t be alone. He just shouldn’t be. 

Connor dials Heidi’s work number. She gave it to him once upon a time, he doesn’t even remember why. But he dials it. 

“Heidi Herzberg,” she answers. Her tone is crisp and professional. 

“Hi Heidi,” Connor says. “Sorry I’m calling at work, I tried your cell-”

Heidi cuts right to the chase. “Connor, what’s wrong?”

Connor should have seen that coming. “Uh. Evan’s sick? I’m pretty sure he’s running a fever.” He sighs. “I brought him home and put him to bed and stuff but… I dunno he’s not making a lot of sense? I thought… I didn’t mean to bother you but…”

Heidi sighs. “No, of course sweetheart. You did the right thing. What’s he doing now?”

“He’s asleep,” Connor says. He watches from the door to make sure he’s not wrong. Evan’s curled into a ball, his chest rising and falling evenly. “But I’m kinda worried about leaving him alone? He said something weird about his dad before and… I dunno it sort of freaked me out.”

“Right,” Heidi says. “I’ll get out of here on time today. Can you stick around until I’m home?”

Connor frowns. “My folks are doing this whole ‘family dinner’ thing? So I’m supposed to be home at 4:30 to help cook.” He frowns at his watch. “I can just tell my mom I’ll be late, don’t worry…”

“That’s not your job Connor,” Heidi says. She sounds a little harassed. He immediately feels guilty for bothering her. He knows she’s been busy lately. Evan’s mentioned it. “If he’s asleep, he’ll be alright until I get home. Did he say what’s wrong? Like, sore throat, upset stomach?”

“No,” Connor says, kicking himself mentally for not thinking to ask. “But he’s burning up.”

“Alright. I’ll be there soon. Have a good dinner with your parents.”

And then she’s gone. 

Connor sticks around until he absolutely can’t anymore, just watching to make sure Evan stays asleep. He leaves a note on Evan’s bedside table explaining that he’s stuck doing this family dinner thing but that he should text Connor if he needs anything before Heidi gets home. 

Before he goes, Connor brushes some of Evan’s slightly damp hair out of his face. His brow furrows a little but then relaxes. He says something that sounds like “ruby slippers.”

Connor smiles at him and goes home. 

* * *

Heidi packs up her desk in a hurry. She needs to get home. Needs to get back to Evan. Connor wouldn’t call if it weren’t important. 

Connor wouldn’t call if it were just a  _ cold _ . 

Fuck. She didn’t know Evan was sick. How did she not know he was sick? She’s been busy as hell, barely home… 

Fuck. 

Karen, the office assistant, comes in and frowns. “You’re leaving?”

“My kid is sick,” she says immediately. 

She looks even more confused. “You mean your nephew?”

That’s interesting. Heidi didn’t know that  _ Karen  _ thought Evan was her nephew. Guess she really did keep the whole ‘taking guardianship of a client’ thing under wraps.

“He’s sick,” Heidi says, not even bothering to conceal her irritation. “I need to make sure he’s okay.”

Karen blinks. Looks hesitant. “It’s just that Mrs. Gonzalez is here? You told me to tell you the minute she showed up.”

Heidi wants to scream with frustration. 

Gloria Gonzalez works three jobs to keep her kids fed and clothed. Well, two jobs now, because one of the places she works had her arrested for theft. 

The case is bullshit. Disgusting, racist bullshit. Heidi got her out on bail but she couldn’t make her court appearance because  _ her _ kid got sick and now everything’s so much worse.

She doesn’t have a phone. It’s been hard to contact her. 

Now that she’s here...

Heidi can’t just leave this woman hanging. 

She has a duty to look after her. 

Evan’s asleep. He’s in bed, he’s safe at home, he’s going to be okay. 

Heidi’s got a job to do. 

“Send her in,” she says wearily, unpacking her laptop.

It’s nearly seven by the time she gets home, wracked with guilt. Gloria had been in tears for most of the conversation, and Heidi had spent a long time translating parts of her statement, trying to make everything as clear and concise as possible despite the language barrier. 

She’s worried sick about Evan. 

That worry turns to absolute panic when she goes to Evan’s room to find that he’s not there. 

Neither are some of the blankets. 

Maybe he’s on the couch, she thinks to herself, and heads into the living room. 

Her heart is beating so fast it hurts. 

He’s not there. 

Where is he? Where the hell did he go?

Maybe Connor took him to the beach house, she thinks suddenly. It’s stupid, but it’s the kind of stupid that teenagers are prone to. She picks up her phone and calls Connor. 

“Is Evan with you?” she asks the second he picks up.

There’s a pause. “No,” he says, and he sounds completely freaked. “No, Heidi, he’s at your place, he was in his room when I left.”

“He’s not here,” Heidi says desperately. “I got caught up with a client, I only just got home.”

“Fuck,” Connor mutters. “I’m coming over, okay? We’re going to find him.”

Connor’s there in minutes, his face pale. 

Heidi pulls him into a tight hug and he hugs her back just as tightly. 

“You’re sure he was asleep when you left?” Heidi demands.

“I’m sure,” says Connor, his face twisting with shame. “I shouldn’t have left until I knew you were home.”

“I got stuck with a client,” Heidi says, so fucking pissed at herself. “I should have canceled, I…”

“He can’t have gone far,” Connor says insistently. “He could barely walk.” His face goes pale. “I didn’t see him in the driveway?”

“Oh my god,” Heidi says desperately. “I’m so stupid, why didn’t I come straight home?”

Connor’s face goes deathly pale, so ashen it’s almost gray. “He has a bag,” he says, something horribly sad in his voice. “Of, like, clothes and some cash? Like, an escape plan, in case… in case things go wrong.”

Heidi feels like her heart is going to rip in two. 

She’s fucking devastated. 

“He does?”

Connor’s mouth sets into a hard line. “I took it off him last night,” he says stubbornly. “He doesn’t have it. He won’t have taken off without it.” He swallows hard. “Right?”

“I don’t know,” Heidi says. She knows she should be keeping it together for Connor, who looks totally freaked out, but she can’t manage it. She’s going crazy with worry. “We should search the house first. Maybe he’s just… sleeping somewhere else?”

“Maybe,” says Connor, nodding. “He was… he was totally out of it, Heidi, just… not really there?”

“Fuck,” Heidi mutters, and together she and Connor search the house from top to bottom. 

No Evan. 

Still no Evan. 

Heidi wants to scream. Just start screaming and never stop. 

“We hang out in the pool house sometimes,” says Connor suddenly. “Maybe he’s there?”

“My pool house?” Heidi asks. 

Connor shakes his head. “The one at our house.” He considers. Bites his lip. “I don’t know if he’d get that far, though. Maybe we should check yours first.”

Heidi agrees and the two of them head there. The room is empty.

Fuck. 

Heidi’s about to go when she notices a pile of blankets in the corner of the room. Something twists in Heidi’s chest. 

She recognizes them from Evan’s room. 

She goes to pick one up and realizes with a rush of relief that Evan’s curled up in the blanket pile. The relief gives way to confusion and hurt almost immediately. 

She shakes him awake. He opens his eyes and looks at her, frowning a little. 

“Evan, sweetheart, why are you on the floor?”

“I’m hiding,” he says, his voice distant and matter-of-fact. “Mark will kick my ass if he finds out I’m sick. He hates it when I’m sick. Hates looking after me.”

“Your dad isn’t here,” Heidi replies, trying not to freak out. 

Evan’s delirious. 

He’s sweat-soaked and shivering and he’s burning up and he’s too pale and he’s freaking out about his dad finding him. His dad signed over guardianship of him months ago. 

What the fuck. 

What the fuck. 

What did this guy do to Evan to make him so scared? To make him feel like he had to hide?

What the  _ fuck  _ did that asshole do that when Evan’s sick and feverish, his subconscious brings that fear back?

“He’ll beat the shit out of me if he finds me,” Evan repeats, sounding genuinely terrified. “And I c-can’t  _ defend  _ myself like this. I have to hide. To keep safe.”

“Sweetheart,” Heidi says helplessly, brushing his hair off his face. “You’re safe. You’re here with me. Your dad can’t hurt you.”

Something in his expression softens. His eyes focus on her, but they’re too bright. She can feel the heat coming off his forehead. 

“I missed you,” he says, his voice weak and young. “I missed you and I’m so sorry. I’m so, so, so damn sorry.”

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry about,” Heidi says, trying to sound soothing. “You’re okay, sweetheart. It’s going to be okay.”

“I know it’s hard taking care of me,” Evan says, his eyes losing focus, blinking heavily. “I’m not easy, I’m… I made things hard on you. I made things too hard on you and that’s why you did it.”

Heidi feels all the air rush out of her lungs. “Did what?” she asks carefully. 

Evan looks at her again. He looks so young. 

So devastated. 

“It’s why you took all those pills, Mom. Because of me.”

* * *

Connor feels like his heart is going to leap out of his chest. 

His mom… took pills? 

He didn’t know. 

He didn’t know. 

He knew Evan’s mom died when he was little, when he was seven, that Evan can’t really talk about it but he didn’t know. Didn’t know how she died. 

Evan’s not really awake. He’s slumped back into the nest of blankets he made and Connor’s frozen, he’s frozen. 

Totally frozen. 

She took pills. 

Connor feels like he’s choking.

On pills. 

On vomit. 

He closes his eyes for a second, just a second, and sees his father’s face swimming above him. 

Connor blinks and he realizes that Heidi is crying beside him. Her arms are wrapped around herself tightly, her eyes huge and sad and full of tears. 

“Did you know?” She whispers to Connor. 

Connor shakes his head. “I didn’t... “ He can’t speak, he’s choking, he’s choking… 

He shakes his head. Blinks a few times. 

He can’t be doing this. 

“Heidi?” He says softly. 

She’s crying. Her face is streaked with tears. 

“Aunt Heidi?” Connor says. 

She doesn’t respond. She’s crying so hard. Staring at Evan with so much sadness. 

Connor doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know what to do. 

He doesn’t know. 

But he has to do something. 

So Connor pulls Heidi into a hug. 

And she just keeps crying. Connor pats her back awkwardly, unsure what he’s meant to be doing, unable to provide any comfort. He’s a skinny stupid seventeen-year-old. He’s not equipped for this. 

But he hugs Heidi and lets her cry. He lets her cry. 

“I didn’t know,” She says softly. “How did I not know?” Heidi sniffles. “I read his file, I’ve seen the reports, I thought I knew… I didn’t know  _ this _ .” 

“It’s not your fault,” Connor says softly. “It’s not your fault.” 

Heidi pulls herself away. She wipes her eyes efficiently. Straightens up. 

“Alright.” She clears her throat. “Alright. We need to get him out of here.” 

Connor swallows hard. “Okay.” 

He looks down at Evan, shivering in his blanket pile. He feels like his heart might actually be breaking. Shattering into thousands of tiny shards. 

Connor has to do something. He’s got to help. 

“Okay.” 

Heidi shakes Evan’s shoulder gently to wake him up again. He blinks a few times in confusion, looking between Connor and Heidi like he’s a lost little kid. “Mom?” He says, his voice brittle and young. He looks scared, eyes darting around. “Where’s my mom? Sh-she was here.” 

“It’s okay,” Connor hears himself saying. “You’re okay.” 

“Connor?” Evan says, and he sounds even more confused. “Wasn’t she here?”

Connor swallows hard. He can’t lie to him but he doesn’t want to see that crushed look on his face. Instead, Connor kneels down beside Evan. “Come on,” he says gently. “We need to get you inside.” 

Evan shakes his head. “M-my dad, he’ll…”

“You’re safe sweetheart,” Heidi says softly. “He’s not here. You’re okay.” 

Connor watches as some of the fear fades out of Evan’s eyes. “He’s not?”

“No,” Connor says firmly. “He’s not.” 

Evan looks at Connor, his eyes overly bright and unfocused like he doesn’t actually see him, like he doesn’t see anything. “I’m sorry,” He says, his face crumpling. “I didn’t mean to m-make you leave…” 

Evan’s not talking to Connor, he realizes. He’s lost somewhere else. 

“Okay,” Connor says. “You’re okay. Nobody’s leaving. We’re gonna go inside, yeah?” 

Evan nods. 

Connor crouches down and puts Evan’s arm around his neck and holds on tight. He wraps his arm around Evan’s waist and pulls him to his feet. 

He sags against Connor immediately. Connor grips on tighter, fighting to keep Evan upright. 

Heidi hurries to Evan’s other side and the two of them manage to navigate getting Evan out of the pool house and back into the main house. It’s pretty obvious that the two of them aren’t going to be able to get Evan up the stairs like this, so Heidi decides he’ll take the couch. They settle Evan there, keeping him sitting so Heidi can run to grab bedding and pillows for him. 

Connor sits beside Evan, keeps an arm around his shoulders. Evan leans against Connor’s side, his face against Connor’s neck. His breath is slightly uneven and his skin is too warm. 

“Connor?” Evan almost whispers. Connor can feel him blinking because Evan’s eyelashes hit his skin. He remembers stupidly that he and Zoe learned about “butterfly kisses” as kids and went around doing it to each other for like a whole (likely intolerable for their parents) month. 

“Hey,” Connor says, resting his head against Evan’s. “You’re pretty sick dude.” 

“You can’t be here,” Evan says, his breathing ragged, his voice thin and scared. “My dad’ll… You n-need to go.” 

“Your dad’s not here,” Connor says softly. He pulls Evan to him tighter. He wants to help him feel safe. Evan doesn’t pull away but he doesn’t relax either. “He can’t hurt you, Evan, you’re safe.” 

Evan shakes his head. His arm wraps around Connor’s middle. “You need to go,” he says hoarsely. “I-if h-he sees you… if he sees  _ us  _ like _ … _ I can’t protect you like this. I’m s-so sorry.” 

Connor rubs Evan’s back, trying to be calming to be reassuring. “Your dad’s not here. It’s just me. Just me and Heidi. You don’t have to worry about protecting me right now, okay? I’m okay. Let me protect you, yeah?” 

Evan laughs, this little huff of breath hitting Connor’s collarbone. “You’re… too skinny. Can’t protect… shit.” 

“Hey,” Connor protests. “I can hold my own.”

Evan laughs a little again. Buries his face in Connor’s neck. “Anyone tries to hurt you I’ll kick their ass,” He says quietly. “Best person I know, people need to  _ stop _ hurting you. Gonna fight everyone to keep you safe.”

Connor finds himself smiling despite his worries. Evan is… he’s so great, even when he’s delirious with a fever. “Okay,” He says. “That’s really nice of you.” 

Evan sighs, sounding frustrated. “‘M not nice,” He mumbles. “I was… a dick to you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Connor says softly. He pulls Evan a little closer because he’s shivering hard. He rubs the top of Evan’s arm, trying to warm him up. “You’re okay.” 

“I was. I was a-a dick,” Evan says, sounding annoyed. “People shouldn’t be dicks to you. Gonna kick my own ass.”

Connor actually laughs a little. “Don’t do that. You can’t beat up my best friend.” 

Evan “hmms” softly. He’s still shivering. He holds on tight to Connor’s middle. And then he’s trying to pull away. “You g-g-gotta go before he gets back.” 

Connor shakes his head. “Your dad’s not here, Evan. It’s okay. You’re safe.” 

Evan looks so sad and confused. “I am?”

“Yeah,” Connor says quietly. “We’re gonna keep you safe, alright? Me and Heidi.”

A few moments later, Heidi comes down with a first aid kit and a huge pile of soft-looking blankets. A couple of pillows. 

“I should take his temperature,” She says. 

“Okay,” Connor says, trying to extract himself from Evan’s grasping limbs. 

Heidi talks to Evan softly. “Hey sweetheart. Can you hold this under your tongue for me?” 

Evan nods. Sits up a little. Holds the thermometer under his tongue. He seems to be swaying a little, like he’s dizzy, like he’s lost at sea while the rest of them are on dry land. 

When the thermometer beeps, Heidi takes it from Evan’s mouth and frowns. “102.7,” she says to Connor.

“102.7… KIIS- _ FM _ ,” Evan singsongs from the sofa. 

Connor wants to laugh and clobber him at the same time. He’s being so fucking weird right now and Connor… 

Fuck he hates that people have hurt him. He’s so sad and Evan’s being so fucking weird and he doesn’t know what any of this means. 

Connor looks at Heidi. “What does that mean?” 

“It’s… high but not. Not dangerous.” 

Connor nods. 

He extracts himself from Evan totally (who complains and mumbles “don’t go”) and helps Heidi to set the sofa up. Then he settles Evan in the newly made-up sleeping area, tucking the blankets up around his chin. Evan shivers again and pulls the blankets tight around him. 

Connor turns to Heidi, who looks so pale and worried. 

“What can I do?” He asks her. 

Heidi runs a hand through her hair agitatedly. She looks down at Evan, shivering on the sofa and says. “You should… You don’t -”

“Heidi,” Connor says firmly. “What can I do?”

She frowns. “We need to bring his fever down,” She says softly. “But I don’t have a lot in the house for that…” 

“I’ll run out,” Connor says, nodding. “Tell me what you need and I’ll get it.” 

“I can’t ask you to do that,” Heidi says. “This isn’t… Evan isn’t your responsibility.”

_ Like hell he isn’t,  _ Connor thinks. “What do you need?”

She relents and writes him a list of supplies. Connor takes one last long look at Evan and then heads out, hurrying toward the garage, toward his car. 

His dad meets him at the end of the driveway. “I was just coming to check on you,” He says quietly. “Did you find Evan? Is he alright?”

Connor nods. Tells him that they found him in Heidi’s pool house but that he’s really sick. “Heidi needs help, she doesn’t have like. Meds in the house or whatever.”

His dad nods. “Is that where you’re going?”

Connor’s expecting a fight. “I just want to help.”

His dad nods again. “I’ll drive.”

* * *

When Connor goes, Heidi just watches Evan for a while. 

His eyes are closed and he’s shivering. 

He looks so young. 

He’s just a kid. 

His eyes open after a moment, hazy and unfocused. “Mom?” 

It’s like a stab to the chest. “It’s Heidi,” she says gently. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

He smiles a little. “Like it when you’re here,” he says, his voice distant and far away. “Like it when you’re happy.” His smile disappears almost instantly, his eyes filling with tears. “I wish you were always happy. W-wish I could m-make you happy.”

“You make me happy,” Heidi replies instantly. “Sweetheart, you make me so happy.”

Evan shakes his head. Closes his eyes tight. 

The next words break her already shattered heart. 

“If you were happy then you wouldn’t have left me.”

Heidi’s eyes sting with tears. “Evan,” she says gently. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’m staying right here. I’m not leaving.”

Evan doesn’t look at her. “Everyone leaves,” he says. 

He sounds so defeated. So young. 

Heidi hates it. She hates it so much. 

He opens his eyes. Blinks a few times. “Connor?” 

“Connor’s coming back,” Heidi assures him. “He’s just gone to get some things to help you feel a bit better.”

“He d-doesn’t hate me?”

Heidi feels a pang in her chest. “Of course he doesn’t, honey. He cares about you so, so, so much.”

Evan blinks a few times more. Looks right past Heidi, his eyes unfocused. “He thinks his mom doesn’t want him,” he says unhappily. “That she doesn’t love him. That’s… I hate that, it’s not fair, Connor is so w-wonderful?”

Heidi feels her stomach twist painfully. She wants to argue that of course Cynthia loves Connor. Of course Connor’s mom loves him. 

But she’s heard some of the shit Cynthia’s said to her son in public. Who knows what’s happening behind closed doors?

“Connor  _ is  _ wonderful,” Heidi agrees gently. She reaches out and smoothes back Evan’s hair. “You’re right. He’s a great kid.”

“My dad doesn’t want me,” Evan says unhappily. He sounds so tired. “My dad doesn’t want me, and my mom couldn’t… couldn’t stay. And-and I d-don’t understand, I don’t understand why she couldn’t stay with me.”

Heidi wills herself not to cry again. 

If she starts crying again, she might never stop. 

How did she miss this? How did she not know that Margaret Hansen killed herself?

Evan was seven years old when she died. 

Seven years old. 

That’s…

She remembers Connor at seven, dressed up for Halloween as a tiny vampire, telling her with a trembling lower lip about how scary the eyeballs were. 

Larry had explained later that evening that the eyeballs were just olives, and David had tried very hard not to laugh. 

That’s the kind of thing you should be dealing with at seven. Olive eyeballs. 

Not your mom’s suicide. 

“I’m so sorry,” she says quietly, wiping her face. “Evan, I am so, so, so sorry.”

“I think my mom wanted to stay,” says Evan, frowning like he’s really thinking about it. “But she couldn’t. It was… t-too much, she f-felt too much.” He closes his eyes. Sags against the pillows on the couch. 

Heidi hates this. 

Hates everything about it. 

Hates Margaret Hansen, for a moment. Hates her for leaving her kid, for causing him so much pain, this pain that won’t go away, that he’s been carrying for nearly a decade. 

She doesn’t know Margaret’s life. Not really. She doesn’t have a frame of reference for it. 

Heidi’s seen too much in the last year to judge anyone. 

She just wishes she’d been stronger. 

Been able to get help and hold on for her kid. 

Evan looks at her, his eyes unfocused. He looks hesitant. “Do you think Heidi really wants to stay with me?”

She has to steady herself at that. 

She feels like Evan just socked her in the jaw. 

“She does,” Heidi says fiercely. “I know she does.”

Evan nods. “I hope so?” he says, his face so sad. “Don’t… d-don’t want to get my hopes up. But I hope so.”

* * *

Connor’s dad drives them to the nearest pharmacy. The whole time the vaguely calming tones of public radio fill the car and neither of them speak. 

Evan’s mom killed herself. 

Overdosed on pills. 

And if Connor’s suspicions are correct, Evan probably won’t even remember telling them tomorrow. 

Because he doesn’t know how to talk about her. About what happened to her. Because he would start screaming and never stop. That’s what he told Connor. 

He would start screaming and never stop. 

But there was no screaming. No crying or anger or devastation. 

Just a sad kid asking his mom why she would leave him. 

It hurts Connor’s heart. 

Hurts more than he can explain. 

He and his dad split up when they get to the pharmacy. Divide and conquer, his dad said, setting off to find acetaminophen and ibuprofen and some cough medicine while Connor stocked a basket full of Gatorade and popsicles and tea bags and honey. 

Connor heads toward the checkout counter but his dad’s not there yet, so he circles back around to the cold and flu aisle. 

His dad’s not there either. 

He heads to the pain relief aisle and there’s still no Larry. 

Connor troops down the aisle. The basket he’s carrying feels so heavy in his arms all of a sudden. He can barely hold it up. 

Connor picks up a bottle of ibuprofen. 

You can’t kill yourself with these. 

You can overdose but it’s rare that that would be fatal. More likely you’d just fuck up your intestines or stomach. 

Connor’s pretty sure his don’t need any more fucking up. 

He grabs a bottle of acetaminophen. 

Hilariously, Tylenol can kill you. You take slightly more than the recommended dose and you can absolutely trash your liver. Without a liver, the body goes pretty fast. 

Connor didn’t take acetaminophen or ibuprofen. 

When he ODed. 

He took three Xanax first. So he’d be calm. 

Then a fistful of assorted opiates. Percs and Oxy and Vicodin. The actual taking of the pills was sort of anticlimactic, really. A few swallows. 

Holding this bottle of pills now, Connor remembers being almost disappointed by the lack of a rattle when he opened his stash to count it out on his bed, to be sure he had enough. 

They weren't in a hard plastic bottle of course. When you buy drugs off of Jared Kleinman, you get them in a small plastic baggie with a toothpaste commercial smile. 

There was no rattle of the pills inside the bottle. No small moment for him to consider if that was a sound he might miss. The sounds of pills inside of a bottle, rattling. 

He had wanted there to be a bottle. He doesn't know why, but he always thought that there would be a bottle. Not a sad plastic bag and an assortment of poisons.

“Connor?” 

His dad is standing in the aisle. 

Connor is holding a bottle of pills. 

His dad’s face goes ashen. 

That’s why his dad sent him to get the other stuff, Connor realizes. He doesn’t have a lot of fond memories of Connor and pills. 

“I already grabbed that stuff. I was just coming to find you.”

Connor puts the bottle he’s holding down. “Right.”

They check out. The cashier remarks that there’s a nasty flu going around. His dad makes polite conversation with her, but Connor’s not there. 

He feels a little like he’s watching this from outside of his body. Watching his dad put a hand on the back of Connor’s neck as they walk away from the pharmacy. Connor’s taller than his dad now. 

He wasn’t. When he was fifteen. 

He was still pretty shrimpy at fifteen. Skinny and gawky and pretending all of the time that he didn’t notice. That he didn’t notice how young and small he really was. Acting tough all the time. He got in a lot of fights at fifteen. With older, bigger kids. 

His dad kept saying stuff about  _ discipline  _ back then. 

They get into his dad’s car and then Connor says something he doesn’t expect to say. “Heidi… she’s gonna need help.”

His dad smiles. “It’s just the flu, Connor.”

Connor nods but. It’s not  _ just  _ anything. Heidi’s new at this. She’s never had a sick kid before. 

She doesn’t have anybody here. 

That’s what she told him in D.C. And part of Connor selfishly wants to prove her wrong. Or at the very least, make sure she isn’t all alone. 

“She doesn’t have family here,” Connor says. “And mom… kinda made sure Heidi lost most of her friends.” He clears his throat. “She’s thinking about moving. At the end of the school year. Back to D.C. because she doesn’t have family or friends here, but she has people there. She needs… people. She needs us to be her people, dad.”

His dad tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “Okay, bud. We… we can be her people. Okay?”

Connor nods. 

They head back to Heidi’s place. She’s sitting next to Evan on the sofa, talking to him softly while he shivers and shakes. 

Connor lets his dad take charge on the meds and whatever. He goes into the kitchen and puts all of the stuff he bought on the counter. Puts the popsicles in the freezer. The Gatorade in the fridge. 

He’d thought ahead and picked up one that was already cold. He grabs it and brings it back to the living room. Heidi coaxes Evan to sit up. Gets him to drink a little, even as he complains that his throat hurts. 

“I need you to take this medicine okay?” Heidi says gently. “It’s gonna help, okay?”

Evan’s eyes are unfocused but he obeys. Takes the pills she hands him and swallows them. 

“Can I… I j-just. Wanna sleep.” 

“You sleep then, honey. Just get some rest.”

Evan nods and lies back down. Closes his eyes. He’s out almost immediately. 

And Heidi’s eyes fill up with tears again. 

His dad gives Connor a significant look, and then he practically scoops Heidi into his arms and escorts her out of the living room. He’s taking her somewhere private so she can get it out. 

His dad’s good at that. 

He’s always been good at that kind of stuff, Connor thinks. 

He sits where Heidi had been sitting. Taking over her post for her. 

Watches Evan sleep. He’s restless, like he’s fighting against something. 

Something that Connor can’t jump in and help him fight. No matter how much he wants to. No matter how much he wishes he could. 

Heidi and his dad are gone a while. 

Connor feels so fucking useless. He sits on the end of the sofa, by Evan’s feet, and he just watches. Waits. 

He has homework he should be doing. 

Fuck homework. 

Evan coughs a few times, this wet and painful sounding cough, and Connor is about to go and get Heidi and, like, maybe demand she take him to the emergency room before he hacks up a lung or something when Evan’s sitting up. 

His eyes open. 

He’s still coughing hard. Like he’s choking. 

Choking on pills, on vomit. 

_ No,  _ Connor tells himself. 

That’s not happening. Not to Evan. Connor won’t let it. 

Evan gropes for the bottle of Gatorade and Connor grabs it for him. Untwists the cap and holds the bottle out to Evan. 

Evan takes it weakly. Drinks slowly. Swallows like it hurts. 

Fuck, how did Connor miss that he was so sick? 

“Connor?” Evan asks weakly. His voice is small. Tired. 

“Hey man,” Connor says. “How are you doing?”

Evan shakes his head like his ears are full of water. “When d-did you get here?”

Connor tells himself not to be scared. Evan’s just out of it. He’s just sick. 

“I’ve been here for a while,” he says quietly. 

“I’m cold,” Evan complains. 

Connor scoots closer. Presses his hand to Evan’s forehead. The move seems to startle or confuse Evan. He backs away before holding still. His skin is too warm still. Hot to the touch. “You’re burning up,” Connor says quietly. 

“You h-have cold hands,” Evan says, frowning. 

“Sorry.”

Evan sits up properly. Gathers the blankets up around him and then. 

Puts some of them over Connor. Leans into Connor’s side. Connor looks at him questioningly. 

“You’re cold,” Evan says, like Connor is especially dense. He rests against Connor’s chest and Connor wraps his arm around him. 

He’s sick. 

When Connor was little all he wanted to do when he was sick was lay on his mom. 

Evan doesn’t have a mom. But he’s got Connor. He’s got Heidi. They can take care of him. Get him through this. 

Connor shifts a little so Evan’s more reclined. Evan hangs on with a weakened grip, but there’s determination in his words when he says, “No. Don’t go.”

“I’m staying,” Connor says. He gently rubs a hand over Evan’s hair. Scratches lightly at his scalp with his fingers, rubs small circles against his head. Because he’s lost and that’s something Connor likes when his head hurts. Evan sighs contentedly. “Just relax,” he tells Evan. “I’m not leaving.”

“Can’t,” Evan says, even as his eyes drift closed. “My dad…”

“He’s not here,” Connor reminds him softly. “He can’t hurt you anymore. Not here.”

“You won’t let him?” Evan says, clearly still confused. 

“I won’t. I promise.” Connor pulls the blanket back up. Evan mumbles. Something about his hair. Connor gets it. He resumes rubbing his fingers against Evan’s scalp. 

He sighs happily. “Like that…”

His eyes stay closed. 

He relaxes completely. 

Connor knows he’s asleep but he stays put. Like a sentry. Watching over Evan while he gets the rest he needs. 

* * *

Larry has never felt so ashamed in his life. 

So completely and utterly disgusted with himself. 

He knows he’s dropped the ball with Heidi. Knows he’s not paid enough attention, given enough support. But to have his kid call him out on it like that?

Fuck. 

David would be so disappointed in him. 

Larry always hated it when David was disappointed in him. Hated the way David’s face would go all tight if Larry won a case David deemed ‘morally reprehensible’. Never wanted to hear Larry’s argument that the law was the law, a case was a case and a win's a win. 

_ “You’re better than that, Larry. You’re a better person than that.” _

David used to turn down cases he didn’t think he could defend morally, but Larry never did. Never pushed back, just took the cases he was assigned. Didn’t want to jeopardize his career by sticking his neck out. 

David still made junior partner before Larry. 

Larry made senior partner seven months before David did. 

And then David died. 

If David knew just how badly Larry had let Heidi down, he’d be so fucking disappointed in him. 

He’s disappointed in  _ himself _ . 

Connor called him out. Connor was the one who told him he needed to step up. 

His seventeen-year-old shouldn’t have to be the one to say this. 

Heidi’s barely holding it together, Larry can tell that immediately the minute he and Connor arrive back at Heidi and David’s place. 

It’s been a while since he’s been here but he still has a spare key. The door wasn’t locked but he’s still got a key to David’s house in case of emergency. 

He’s been thinking he should give that back. 

Now he thinks he needs to earn the right to keep it. 

There was something on the door frame by the front door that wasn’t there before, he’s sure of it, but he didn’t take the time to investigate. 

Heidi’s still in her work clothes. She’s pale and looks exhausted and sitting next to Evan, who’s curled up on the sofa and has never looked younger. 

He’s shivering and sweaty and…

_ It’s just the flu,  _ he reminds himself.  _ It’s just the flu, he’s not… _

Heidi looks surprised to see him. “Larry, hi,” she says, clearly taken aback, and Larry feels even worse that she’s not expecting him. 

That she’s in the middle of a crisis and she didn’t think he’d be there. 

Because historically, he hasn’t been. 

He’s never been so ashamed in his life. 

“Okay, so I’ve got what you need,” he says, opening up the shopping bag and pulling out medication. He offers Evan a weak smile. “Hey bud, we’re going to help you feel better, okay?”

Evan blinks. Stares at him, unseeing. 

“Won’t let you hurt him,” he says, his voice slurry and unfamiliar. 

Then he closes his eyes. 

The guilt and shame in Larry’s stomach just gets bigger and bigger, threatening to devour him whole. 

Connor blinks. “I’m just going to put some of this away,” he says quietly, and then he’s off to the kitchen. 

Heidi looks at Larry, something a little helpless in her expression. “I didn’t know he was sick,” she says, her voice tight. “I didn’t know he was  _ this  _ sick.”

“The lady at Walgreens said there’s a nasty flu going around,” Larry offers weakly, and Heidi nods. Blinks. 

Connor’s back not long after with a bottle of Gatorade, and Heidi leaps into action, convincing Evan to take some medication. He looks young and scared and miles removed from the quiet, polite kid Larry met for the first time at Heidi and David’s beach house. 

Miles removed from the kid from Chino who steals cars and gets into fights he’d been picturing in his head before they met. Even more removed from the confident young man in a tux escorting Zoe at cotillion. 

Larry doesn’t really know Evan at all, he realizes. 

But Connor does. And so does Heidi. 

Heidi, who looks so completely heartbroken. 

When Evan’s taken the pills and has fallen back asleep almost immediately, Larry focuses his attention on Heidi. 

Her eyes fill with tears. She looks like she’s about to completely lose it. 

He can’t let her do that alone. 

“Hey,” he says, reaching out and pulling her into a tight hug. “Come on, let’s get some air.”

She doesn’t argue. Lets Larry escort her out to the patio. They sit on one of the benches outside by the garden and Heidi just.

Crumbles. 

Dissolves into a flood of tears, in a way that Larry’s only seen a handful of times. 

He just holds her as she cries, rubbing her back and saying comforting nonsense, all the while sick to his stomach as the reality of how much he’s dropped the ball here sinks in. 

_ “She’s thinking about moving,” _ Connor had said.  _ “At the end of the school year. Back to D.C. because she doesn’t have family or friends here, but she has people there.” _

David was Larry’s best friend. The best friend he’d ever had. 

He was Connor’s godfather. He and Heidi lived next door the entire time his kids were growing up. 

David and Heidi were family, and Larry let that slip away. 

_ “She needs… people. She needs us to be her people, dad.” _

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

Connor shouldn’t have had to ask. No one should have had to ask him to do this. 

He shouldn’t have let things get this bad between them. 

“I’m sorry,” Heidi weeps on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I-”

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” he tells her firmly. “Having a sick kid is terrifying. What you’re feeling is totally normal, okay? Especially because you haven’t done this before.”

It doesn’t seem to help. Heidi just sobs harder, and it’s starting to sound... painful. Like the amount of crying she’s doing is physically hurting her. 

Larry feels cold. There’s something he’s missing. 

He’s about to ask when Heidi pulls away and looks at him, her face red and blotchy. There is something completely devastated in her expression that makes his stomach churn. 

“The fever’s making him say things,” she says, her voice rough and tight with grief. “Things I didn’t know, things I…” Her eyes fill up with fresh tears. “I didn’t know, how did I not know?”

The cold feeling keeps creeping through his body. “Not know what?” he asks carefully. 

Heidi closes her eyes. Her chin wobbles. “His mom died when he was seven,” she says, her voice quiet and tremulous. “I knew that. But I didn’t know… I didn’t know she overdosed. I didn’t know.”

Larry feels like he’s been punched in the chest. 

It’s hard to breathe for a moment. 

He blinks and he’s not there anymore. He’s holding his fifteen-year-old son as he shivers, as the life drains out of him, as he chokes on vomit and pills and-

_ No, _ he tells himself firmly. This is not the time.  _ Heidi needs you. _

“I am so fucking sorry,” he manages to say.

Heidi’s face, her whole body seems to be wracked with guilt. “I know you… with Connor, I don’t-”

“He was seven?” Larry interrupts, feeling like he genuinely might throw up. 

Heidi sags against him. Nods. 

“Holy fuck,” he says, almost unbidden. “That’s…” Something occurs to him. “Does Connor know?”

Heidi frowns. “He found out when I did,” she says quietly. Pain flashes across her face. “He seemed… he wanted to help, Connor just wanted to help, but I could tell it brought back memories, I…” She shakes her head. “Evan’s so sick, I know he didn’t mean to drop that on us.” Her face gets even sadder. “I don’t think he wanted anyone to know.”

Larry swallows hard. “Shit,” he mutters. 

Heidi looks so fucking crushed. “And he blames himself,” she confesses, her voice raw and ragged. “He keeps saying that he couldn’t make her happy, that he made things too hard on her and that’s why she… that’s why she k-killed herself.” Her eyes flood with tears. “He’s so sick, he’s so confused and he thinks I’m her. He asked me why she left him, he just…” She wipes her face almost angrily. “He was seven when she died, Larry. Seven years old.”

Larry feels his own eyes sting. 

He feels the weight of what Heidi’s saying land on his chest. Sit there and refuse to move, threatening to crush his heart. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says weakly. “I’m so sorry.”

Heidi sniffs. “When he’s not talking about his mom, he keeps talking about his  _ dad _ ,” she says quietly through her tears. “Saying that if his dad finds him when he’s sick, he’ll hurt him. That’s why we found him in the pool house. He was  _ hiding _ . So he’d be safe.” She wipes her face again. “He kept telling Connor and I to leave before his dad gets here. To protect us. He…” Heidi bursts into fresh tears. “I don’t know what to do,” she says desperately. “I don’t… What do I  _ do _ , Larry?”

Larry feels sick to his stomach. 

His head is spinning with all of this information. He feels like he’s drowning, like it’s all too much for him, and if he’s feeling this way then he can’t imagine how bad it must be for Heidi. 

Heidi, who loves her kid with everything she’s got. Who’s clearly absolutely devastated by everything he’s had to deal with. 

By the pain she’s only just starting to scratch the surface of. 

Larry knows a little bit about how terrifying it is to realize how much pain your kid is in. To suddenly realize what’s there under the surface, threatening to give way at any moment and destroy everything. 

“I wish I could tell you what to do,” he says honestly. “I wish I could give you a straight answer, but I’m just…” Larry swallows again. Tries to collect himself and focus. “When he’s recovered from the flu, maybe you should look at him talking to a professional about this.”

Heidi wipes her face. Nods. Looks at Larry intently. “Did… did Connor talk to someone? After he…”

“Yeah,” Larry says, his throat dry. “He’s still…” He nods. “Connor’s still in therapy. So am I.”

Heidi’s eyes widen, like she’s surprised. “You are?”

Larry nods. Clears his throat, suddenly embarrassed. “After Connor… after what happened.” He suddenly thinks that he’s going to cry, and that’s not helpful right now. “I started seeing a therapist a few months after David died,” he says quietly. “I knew I had to be strong for my family and I was… failing. I needed help to get through it all. What was happening with Connor, David dying, all of it.”

“Has it helped?” Heidi asks tentatively. 

There’s not a trace of judgment on her face. 

It helps, not to see that there. 

“Yes,” Larry says simply. “Being able to  _ talk  _ to someone has helped. I’m not… God knows I’m not perfect, Heidi, and you know better than anyone how badly I’m fucking up most of the time, but… it helps, being able to talk to someone.”

Heidi wipes her face. Steadies her shoulders. 

“I just feel so alone,” she admits quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Without David, I… I feel so alone. And I’m… I’m not enough for Evan. He deserves everything, he deserves so much better than what he’s had and I’m terrified I’m letting him down.”

“Being terrified is part of being a parent,” Larry tells her. He’s hit with the memory of the morning after Connor and Evan went to the concert. How after he’d raged and screamed at Connor, Heidi had sat all four of them down to talk it through sensibly. 

Evan had said something that morning that’s stuck in Larry’s head ever since, like a pebble in a shoe. 

“People don’t get scared when they don’t care,” Larry says slowly. “That’s what Evan said, that morning at the beach house after the concert.”

Heidi blinks. Nods. She’s crying again. 

“I know how much you care,” Larry continues. “I can see it. And so can Evan. Evan knows.”

Heidi’s shoulder sag. She doesn’t stop crying. “Connor told me that Evan’s got a bag packed,” she says miserably through her tears. “So he can leave if things go wrong. He… he doesn’t trust me to keep him safe.”

Larry feels his chest tighten. “He does?”

Heidi nods. “Connor took it,” she confesses. Her face twists. “I know he doesn’t want Evan to go, but I don’t know if that’s going to help?”

There’s a lump in his throat, an ache in his chest, and he feels like he might crumble under the weight of all of this. 

But he can’t let Heidi down. Not now. 

Not again. 

“Connor told me that you’re thinking of moving,” he says carefully. “Back to D.C.” He takes a breath, then continues. “Because you don’t have people here.”

Heidi looks at him. Blinks a few times. “He deserves more than just me,” she says, so quietly. “All I want is to give him what he deserves.”

“I know I fucked up,” Larry says, trying desperately not to lose it, not to sound as scared and ashamed as he feels. “I  _ know  _ that. But we’re your people, okay? Connor and I. We’re your people and I swear we will do everything we can to help support you and Evan. You’re not alone.”

Heidi looks… small. Guilty. “I know how much Connor wants to keep Evan here,” she says quietly. “I know.” She wipes her face. “Nothing’s decided. It’s up to him, I…” She steadies her shoulders. “We can talk about it later. When he’s feeling better. I… one step at a time.”

“Okay,” says Larry, feeling completely lost. “Okay, whatever you need.”

Heidi wipes her face again. Her nose and eyes are red from crying. 

Takes a deep breath. 

“Okay,” she says, something firm in her voice. “So. Here is the plan. I keep an eye on Evan tonight, make sure his fever doesn’t get too high. If it gets over 103, I’ll call an ambulance.”

“What is it now?”

“102.7,” Heidi says, her voice thin but determined. “I’ll keep checking it regularly.” She takes another breath. “The short term plan is to get him healthy. Get him feeling better. Once he’s recovered, then I’ll talk to him about therapy.” 

She frowns deeply. Opens her mouth like she’s going to say something. 

Closes her mouth again. 

“I’ll give you some names,” Larry offers. “I did a lot of research when we switched Connor to a new therapist at the end of last year.” Heidi nods and he continues. “And I’ll give you some recommendations from my own research. When I was trying to find someone for me.”

Heidi’s eyes widen. She looks uncertain, like she’s going to argue. 

Larry can’t let that stand. 

“You want to take care of him,” he says firmly. “So you have to take care of yourself.” She flinches a little, but he presses on, trying to keep his tone as kind as possible while still being straight with her. “It feels weird, I know. Trust me, I know. But this is… this is some serious stuff, Heidi. You don’t have to do this on your own.”

Heidi nods. Looks at her hands for a moment. 

“Thank you,” she says, something significant in her voice. “Just… thank you.”

* * *

Everything is strange and out of place. 

He’s too warm. Too cold. Freezing and burning.

He thinks he sees his mom sometimes. 

It’s nice to see her. He’s missed her so much. But he blinks and she’s gone, like she was never even here, and he feels the pain of losing her all over again. 

He doesn’t understand why she couldn’t stay. 

Why she wouldn’t stay. 

Everyone leaves eventually. He just doesn’t know why.

Is it him? 

It has to be him. 

He’s the common denominator here. 

His dad is going to find him and he’s going to hurt him and he knows how weak he is, knows he’s stupid and pathetic, that he’s sick and he can’t defend himself, or Heidi, or Connor. 

He can’t let someone else get hurt because of him. 

He already hurt his mom. 

His mom is dead because of him. He can’t let anyone else be dead because of him.

Evan just wants to help. It’s all he wants, he…

“It’s not your fault,” says a familiar voice. There’s a hand on his head, making soothing motions. 

He relaxes into it, but only a little. 

Because it is his fault. So many things are his fault. 

It’s his fault Connor doesn’t like him anymore. 

Not the way he was before. Not like it used to be. 

He doesn’t know what he did wrong. 

He doesn’t…

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Evan,” the voice says soothingly. “Everything’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

“I don’t know,” he tries to explain weakly. “I don’t know what I did. Why Connor doesn’t like me anymore.”

The voice is quiet for a long time. 

Evan shivers. It’s cold. 

He’s cold. 

“Of course I like you.”

He shakes his head. “No,” he tries to insist. “No, it’s different now, because I fucked it up. Always fucking everything up, nothing’s been the same since… since the workshop, since…” 

He shivers. 

He can’t stop shaking. 

He misses his mom. He misses her so much. 

He wishes he hadn’t lost his best friend. His only friend. 

Connor’s his only friend and it’s not the same anymore. 

It all got messed up. He messed it all up. 

“You didn’t mess anything up. I swear, you didn’t, I…”

His throat hurts. 

His head hurts. 

Everything hurts, it hurts _ so much, _ and he’s fucking freezing, he can’t stop shaking, and his mom is dead. 

His mom is dead. 

He hates it so much. Hates all of it so much. 

Connor’s here, sitting next to him, and he looks so sad, so confused, and Evan realizes immediately that he needs to get him out of here. 

Needs to keep him safe. 

“You have to go before he finds us,” he tells Connor, because even though Connor doesn’t like Evan anymore, doesn’t want to be his friend, Evan won’t let him get hurt. 

Connor looks so sad. Just… crushed. 

“Sweetheart, your dad’s not here,” says Heidi, sitting down next to him. “He can’t hurt you. He’s never going to hurt you again, okay? He’s not going to hurt you, I’m going to keep you safe.”

When did Heidi get here?

She has to work, she can’t be here, she…

Evan’s so tired. 

Exhausted. 

He can barely keep his eyes open. 

“Just rest, honey,” says his mom, brushing his hair off his face. She kisses his forehead. “Just sleep. I’ll be here the whole time, I promise.”

Evan wants to believe her. 

He closes his eyes and sinks back against the pillow.

* * *

When Heidi and Larry get back to the living room, Evan’s lying against Connor, mumbling something into his collarbone. 

Larry looks at Connor and sighs. “My idiot kid’s gonna get  _ himself  _ sick,” he mutters, and Heidi doesn’t disagree. 

She turns to politely tell Connor to keep his distance when she tunes into the conversation.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Evan,” says Connor. He’s clearly trying to be reassuring, but his face is tight with concern. “Everything’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

Evan’s voice is paper thin. “I don’t know,” he says weakly. “I don’t know what I did. Why Connor doesn’t like me anymore.”

Connor visibly flinches, like someone’s slapped him across the face. 

He looks… devastated. His eyes fill with tears immediately and he goes to wipe them away and spots Heidi and Larry. His face goes even more pale. 

Connor looks at his dad helplessly. Heidi turns to see Larry looks confused, as confused as Heidi feels, because it’s obvious. 

It’s obvious to anyone with eyes that Connor cares about Evan _ so damn much.  _

“Of course I like you,” says Connor after a moment, turning back to face Evan. His voice trembles. He sounds so young. 

“No,” Evan protests weakly. “No, it’s different now, because I fucked it up. Always fucking everything up, nothing’s been the same since… since the workshop, since…” 

He’s shaking and shivering so hard. 

Connor just looks at him, an expression of utter devastation on his face. 

“S’not the same anymore,” Evan mumbles feverishly. “Got messed up, I messed it up.”

“You didn’t mess anything up,” Connor says fiercely. “I swear, you didn’t, I…”

He swallows hard. 

Looks away. 

Won’t look at Heidi or Larry or Evan, just kind of folds into himself. 

It’s the most horrible, sad thing. 

Heidi hates it so much. 

Evan is shifting now, sitting up and looking at Connor, staring like he’s seeing him for the first time. “You have to go before he finds us.”

Fuck. 

Fuck, Heidi can’t stand this. 

She sits down on the other side of Evan, wrapping an arm around him protectively. “Sweetheart, your dad’s not here,” she says firmly. “He can’t hurt you. He’s never going to hurt you again, okay? He’s not going to hurt you, I’m going to keep you safe.”

Evan stares at her, eyes wide and young. He’s blinking heavily, like he’s fighting to stay awake. “Heidi?”

Okay. At least he knows it’s her, okay. 

She pushes Evan’s hair off his sweaty forehead. Leans in and presses a kiss to skin that’s too warm. “Just rest, honey,” she says soothingly. “Just sleep. I’ll be here the whole time, I promise.”

“Okay,” says Evan, closing his eyes. Connor helps Heidi maneuver him back to lie down properly. His head sinks into the pillow and he’s out. 

Heidi takes in a steadying breath. 

She’s not going to lose it. 

She’s not. 

She looks at Connor and Larry. “Is it okay if you stick around while I go change quickly?” she asks. “Then I’ll let you get back to your evening.”

“Of course,” says Larry immediately, and Connor nods. 

Heidi smiles gratefully, then rushes upstairs to get out of her work outfit and into something more comfortable. Takes out her contacts and puts on her glasses, then heads downstairs to find Connor and Larry sitting on the other sofa, talking quietly. 

Larry stands up when he sees her, walks over and pulls her into another hug. 

“Have you eaten?” he asks. “I can bring over some food.”

“I’ll heat up leftovers,” she tells him. “But thank you.”

Larry nods. “Okay. We’ll cook extra for you tomorrow night, okay? You don’t have to worry, we’ve got you covered.”

Heidi sighs. Now that she’s feeling more in control of the situation, she’s just… horribly embarrassed. “Please don’t go to any trouble-”

“It’s no trouble,” Larry insists. 

Heidi frowns. “Larry, Cynthia already hates me. Don’t give her any more ammunition.”

“She does  _ not  _ hate you,” Larry says firmly, his face going red. He’s clearly embarrassed. “She’s been talking about how we should have you and Evan around for dinner soon. To put everything that happened behind us.”

“Bad idea,” Connor mutters. 

Larry looks hurt. “She’s really trying,” he says to Connor, his voice quiet. “She’s been really trying since she got back from rehab.”

Something flashes across Connor’s face that makes Heidi uneasy. 

“We can discuss that later,” Heidi says, wanting to change the subject. “You two should get home.” She smiles as best she can. “Thank you. Both of you, really, I… I don’t know what I would have done without your help tonight.”

Connor’s cheeks go pink. 

Heidi hugs Larry again, then lets go and pulls Connor into the tightest hug she can manage. He looks a little surprised, but relaxes into it after a while, hugging her back just as fiercely.

“Thank you,” Heidi tells him quietly. “For taking care of Evan. He’s lucky to have a friend like you.”

Connor’s face crumples. His nose goes red. 

“I’m the lucky one,” he murmurs, and looks over at Evan, who’s out for the count. 

He stares at him for a long time until Larry finally takes them both home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "Down and Out" by The Academy Is...


	34. I'm Not The Only Person With These Things In Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At least no one has typhoid.

It’s a long night. 

Evan’s in and out, and Heidi’s never sure what she’s going to find when in the moments where he’s conscious. 

Sometimes he’s terrified of his dad, begging Heidi to leave so that he won’t find her, desperately telling her he can’t keep her safe. 

Other times he thinks she’s his mom, and he tells her that he loves her and he misses her. That he’s sorry. That it’s his fault. 

Heidi’s devastated. 

Just… completely devastated at how much her kid is hurting that she thinks the weight of it all might crush her. 

He asks after Connor, too. Asks if he’s safe, asks if he’s alive. Begs him not to hurt himself. Begs him not to go like his mom did. 

Heidi’s trying her best to hold it together, but when Evan falls asleep the next time, she breaks down and sobs. 

He’s lost so much. He’s lost so much, and he’s so afraid of losing what he still has. 

It’s heartbreaking. Completely heartbreaking. 

What’s going on with Evan and Connor? What’s causing Evan to be so scared Connor hates him?

Heidi knows things were weird after D.C. Knows how much what Miguel said hurt Evan. How devastated Connor was at the prospect of Evan moving away. 

She knows Evan’s date with Zoe didn’t go well, even though he won’t tell her what happened and she hasn’t been home enough to get to the bottom of it. 

She’s also… pretty convinced that Connor’s not exactly thrilled about the idea of Zoe and Evan. Larry seems to think Connor has feelings for Evan, and Heidi’s starting to think he’s not wrong. 

It’s always going to be complicated, a friendship with an undercurrent of unrequited love, Heidi’s not stupid. 

But Evan’s been alone for so long.

His friendship with Connor is clearly important to him. Connor’s important to him. 

Connor tried to kill himself near the end of his freshman year. 

Evan’s mom killed herself. 

Heidi’s so fucking scared for Evan. So fucking scared. 

It’s just after three am when Evan opens his eyes. Blinks. Looks at her with confusion. “What’s going on?” he asks, his voice rough. He tries to sit up and fails miserably. “I’m… I don’t feel good.”

“You’re sick, sweetheart,” Heidi tells him matter-of-factly. “You’ve been really sick.” She reaches for the thermometer. “I just want to take your temperature again, okay love?”

He nods, and lets her take it. 

Just under 100. Still a little on the warm side, but it’s definitely gone down. 

Evan looks at her, then looks around. “I’m on the couch?”

“Yeah,” she says with a nod. “What do you remember?”

Evan’s cheeks flush. “I asked Connor for a ride home,” he says, frowning. “I… not much after that, just…” He blinks a few times. “Flashes.” 

“That makes sense,” she says, nodding. “You had a pretty bad fever, but we managed to get it down.” She stands up. “I’m going to get you something cold to drink for your throat, then do you think you could take some more medication for me?”

Evan nods. “Okay,” he says, his voice small. 

She turns to go. 

“Heidi?”

She turns around. “Hmmm?”

Evan blinks. “I’m so sorry to inconvenience you like this. I know you’re super busy-”

“You’re not an inconvenience,” Heidi assures him. “Okay? You’re not. I want to take care of you. I always want that.”

Evan looks like he wants to argue, but nods. Sags back against the pillow.

Heidi gets a Gatorade from the fridge and some more cold meds. Gets him to take them. He does so without complaint, without any pushback, looking at her with this strange expression like he doesn’t expect this. Like it’s not normal to be looked after like this. 

It probably isn’t. 

Probably hasn’t been. 

Well, he’d better get used to it, because Heidi’s not going anywhere. 

* * *

Connor wakes up the next morning and decides that he is absolutely not going to go to school that day. 

He’s had basically perfect attendance, barring the few times he’s had to duck out for various doctor appointments and stuff. He decides he can risk it. 

But then again he knows the school probably still has his parents on speed dial from freshman year when he accrued so many unexcused absences that he was basically on a first-name basis with the truancy officer. So he’ll need to be smart about it. 

So Connor gets up and gets dressed like he’s going to go to school. Grabs his messenger bag and, after taking a minute to think about it, grabs Evan’s emergency bag too. He shouldn’t have taken it. 

Drives off and heads to the smoothie place next to Starbucks because you can totally drink a smoothie with a sore throat. He even gets himself one. 

Then he calls his dad’s office number. 

He’s calling in a favor. 

Rhonda, the office assistant at his dad’s firm, answers immediately. She still sounds groggy. 

“Hey Rhonda,” he says. “It’s Connor Murphy. How are you?”

She sounds surprised. “Hello, Connor. Your dad’s at court until noon.”

“I know,” he says. “Remember last summer when you said you owed me one because I helped to hook you up with my guy Eric?” He had done that. Her dad’s been sick and the pot helps him to eat despite the chemo. Rhonda had spotted Connor sitting in his dad’s office, getting chewed out because he got caught smoking weed instead of going to gym class at the end of freshman year. She quietly asked him who his weed guy was and he gave her Eric’s name because he trusted him more than he trusted anything coming through Jared’s channels. She’d said she owed him one at the time. 

“Yes…” she sounds nervous. 

“Cool. Can I ask you a favor and have you call me out of school today?” He says. 

“Why?” She sounds suspicious. 

“Just need a day off. Not really feeling well but my parents think I’m faking it.”

Rhonda clicks her tongue. She’s always been sympathetic. “And you swear you’re not going to get up to trouble?”

“I swear, I’m just gonna wait for my mom to go to Pilates and then I’m going straight back to bed.”

Rhonda sighs. “Alright. I’ll call you out.”

“Thank you so much,” Connor says. 

He hangs up. 

And then drives right back to Heidi’s house. It’s just before eight but Heidi’s normally up by now. He rings the bell and waits. 

She answers the door in sweats, her hair in a ponytail and her glasses on. She looks exhausted. And surprised. “Connor?”

“Hi,” he says awkwardly. “I… I know it’s weird but I thought you and Evan might want some company today? And I. Brought smoothies? Since they won’t hurt his throat?”

Heidi’s face softens. “You should be in school.”

He shrugs. “I’m taking a mental health day,” he says. “I’d be all worried about Evan all day anyway. If it’s okay… I’ll just hang out and work on this English paper?”

She frowns a little. “Evan’s still asleep.”

“That’s good, right?”

Heidi nods wearily. 

“Did you sleep?” He asks her. 

Heidi sighs. “I’m fine sweetheart.”

Connor raises his eyebrows. “I just want to help.”

Heidi looks exhausted. “Alright. Fine. But I’m not covering for you when your parents find out.”

“No ma’am,” Connor says with a small smile. He kicks his shoes off and hands Heidi a smoothie. They head into the kitchen so he can stick Evan’s in the fridge for now. 

Heidi gives him a critical look. “About what Evan said last night…”

“Which thing?” Connor asks quietly because they both know there were several things. 

“About you not liking him…” Heidi sighs. “Have things been… weird between you two since D.C.?” 

Connor shrugs. Takes a sip of his smoothie. “Kinda I guess.” He bites his lip. “Probably my fault. I’ve been… I dunno. I know he’s...” He shakes his head. “I don’t want him to feel bad, you know? If you guys move.”

Heidi looks surprised. “Oh.”

“Like you said. He deserves a shot and... I don't wanna be a jerk who keeps him from deciding to go.”

Heidi looks extremely surprised. 

“And. I dunno. People have been giving him some…” Connor considers his words carefully. “Some people have been assholes since his date with Zoe.”

Heidi looks surprised by this. “Why?”

Connor shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s probably my fault…” He’s not exactly about to tell Heidi that everyone thinks Evan’s gay now because he didn’t sleep with Zoe. That is not mom-approved. Connor’s not in the business of spilling secrets. He’ll give her enough of an explanation to keep her from prying but he’s not going to blab all of Evan’s stuff. 

He feels bad enough that he spilled about Evan’s getaway bag. 

That had not been cool of him to do but he had been panicked. Terrified Evan had run away. 

And like. 

It’s for his own good. That Heidi knows. It’s for Evan’s own good. 

But her knowing about people calling him gay is not Connor’s to disclose. 

Heidi finishes her smoothie and then yawns widely. 

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” Connor suggests. “I’ll hang out. Make sure he takes the meds he needs if he wakes up?”

“You really don’t have to do this,” Heidi says. “You’re seventeen. You should be using a day off school to, like. Watch MTV and goof off.”

Connor smiles sort of. “I can watch MTV from your living room if it’ll make you feel better.”

“Fine,” Heidi says finally. “But you wake me up the minute he gets up, okay?”

“Yes ma’am,” Connor says, a little sarcastically. He gives her a smile. 

Heidi laughs. “You’re such a little shit. Your dad’s gonna kick my ass for letting you con me into this.”

Connor just smiles. 

She heads upstairs after checking on Evan. He’s still out cold. She says his fever broke overnight. 

She kisses Evan’s forehead and then goes to bed. 

Connor grabs a seat on the other end of the couch and does his English homework. Evan keeps on sleeping. 

This is where Connor needs to be. 

* * *

Evan opens his eyes slowly. Cautiously. He kind of feels like they’ve been glued shut, like they’re covered in cobwebs and he’s fighting his way through them. 

He feels like shit. 

Just… absolute garbage, holy shit, he feels bad, he hasn’t felt this bad in  _ years _ , not since the flu he got a few months before he turned twelve and his dad got mad at him for being sick and broke his collarbone. 

He can’t remember if that was the first or the second time his dad broke his collarbone. God, that’s depressing. 

It takes a moment to get his bearings. He’s on the couch, lying under a pile of soft blankets. There are pillows under his head and even though everything aches, he can appreciate that he’s somewhere… comfortable. 

It’s a far cry from hiding under the bed when he got sick like he used to do. Fuck. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, he hasn’t thought about that in months, why is he thinking about it now? 

It takes him a moment to realize that Connor’s sitting at the edge of the sofa. He’s staring down his laptop, frowning deeply, then looking at his notes, then back to his laptop. His cheeks are kinda flushed and he’s got one of the blankets around his shoulders. 

Connor lets out this tiny huff of frustration and mutters something about a  _ ‘motherfucking primary source’ _ . 

It’s stupidly cute. 

“Hey,” he says, and his voice comes out rough and weak. Connor looks at him immediately, his eyes widening. He shuts his laptop and turns to focus on Evan. 

“Hey,” he says, his voice soft and reassuring. “How are you feeling, man?”

“Like shit,” Evan admits, and Connor looks so sad. “But I guess better? I’m not, like, quite as out of it, so.”

Connor looks even sadder. “You weren’t making a lot of sense,” he says, something pained in his voice. “You had a pretty high fever.”

“I’m so fucking sorry,” Evan says quickly. The minute he’s gotten the words out, he starts coughing, full-on hacking up a lung, and Connor’s eyes go big and scared and he’s helping Evan sit up, wrapping his arm around him and rubbing his back. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, Connor should not be here, he should not be looking after Evan like this, not after Evan keeps fucking up, keeps getting things wrong and ruining everything. 

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” Connor says fiercely. He pulls Evan close to him for a moment. Leans his head on top of Evan’s. 

For a moment, Evan thinks he’s going to kiss his forehead, which is super weird but might be kind of nice, what is wrong with him fucking hell. 

“Things have been… weird,” Evan manages to say, despite his raw and aching throat. “You don’t… you don’t have to stay and look after me-”

“You’d do the same for me,” Connor says stubbornly, and Evan has no argument. 

Because he would. 

In a heartbeat. 

That’s not… even a question. 

Connor looks at him assessingly, his expression concerned, and Evan feels his face burn because he must look like shit right now. Just, like, absolute microwaved garbage. Then he moves his arm from where it’s resting on Evan’s back, grabs a couple of pillows and rearranges them so Evan can sit up but still be comfortable. 

Evan’s about to thank him when he stands up. “Heidi asked me to wake her up when you woke up,” he says, a little awkwardly. 

“She’s asleep?” Evan asks. He’s a little confused. It occurs to him that he’s not even sure what time of day it is. 

“Yeah,” Connor says, frowning a little. “I think she was up most of the night keeping an eye on you.”

“It’s tomorrow?” Evan asks stupidly. 

Connor looks like he’s trying not to laugh. “Is it ever really tomorrow, Evan?”

Evan rolls his eyes. “Fuck you.”

He does laugh at that. “Yeah, it’s Wednesday,” he says with a nod. “You were pretty out of it, man.” His smile fades. “You kinda scared the shit out of me, not gonna lie.”

Evan’s chest aches with guilt. Or maybe it just aches. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Connor says immediately. He frowns. Runs his hand through his hair. “I’m just… how come you didn’t tell Heidi you were feeling so sick? Or me?”

Evan tries to think back. “I don’t… I didn’t realize?” he says, feeling like a fucking idiot. “I just… I know that sounds lame, I just. I felt like shit but I thought I was just… bummed out or whatever.”

Connor looks at him, frowning a little more. “Bummed out?”

Evan shrugs. Feels his face burn. “Last few weeks haven’t been great,” he mumbles. “I figured I was just… sad.”

Connor looks really fucking devastated at that. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Evan says, a little awkwardly, and Connor looks even unhappier. His nose gets a little red, the way it does when he’s upset about something, and Evan feels the urge to apologize. 

He doesn’t get a chance because Connor speaks first. 

“When the fever was really bad,” he says, something cautious in his voice, “you asked me why I didn’t like you anymore.”

Evan feels his face burn. “I did?” Connor nods. “Fuck, th-that’s so embarrassing, oh my god, Connor I’m so fucking sorry-”

“Of course I still like you,” Connor interrupts, his voice small, his cheeks pink. “I kinda… I’ve been a real dick to you lately and I’m sorry, I…” He swallows hard. Blinks a few times. “I guess I just wanted to make it easier?”

“Easier how?” Evan asks, completely lost. 

“Easier when you leave,” Connor says simply. “When you move to D.C.” He sighs. Runs his hand through his hair. Evan’s distracted by the motion, how it makes his long neck look even longer. “You deserve a chance to be somewhere you don’t have to pretend.”

Evan feels his heart sink. “So you want me to go.”

Connor blinks a few times, his nose going even more red, his eyes going a bit glassy. “No,” he says immediately. “It’s the last thing I want. The last thing I want is for you to go anywhere. It’s just… selfish of me to want to keep you here, you know? So… I figured I should get used to it and… I’ve been a dick. I’m sorry.”

Evan can’t quite get his head around what Connor’s telling him. “You… what?”

Connor lets out this slightly frustrated noise. “I’m a dick, let’s leave it at that, okay?” He crosses his arms. Sniffs a little. “It’s stupid, I was being stupid, I thought I…” He takes in a shaky breath. “I thought maybe if I stopped hanging out with you as much it would… hurt less. When you go.”

“I don’t know if I’m even going yet,” Evan says, blinking. “We haven’t… we haven’t really talked about it since we got back, Heidi’s been so busy.”

“But you aren’t gonna stick around here forever,” Connor says stubbornly. He wipes his face, looking like he’s pissed off at the display of emotion. “It’s… it’s not good for you, you know? People all think you’re someone you’re not and that kind of pressure is bullshit, you don’t deserve that.” He clears his throat. “You’re the best person I know. You deserve better than this.”

Evan swallows. Regrets it immediately, because it hurts like a bitch. “We haven’t decided,” he says with a frown. “It’s not… nothing’s decided, we don’t know if we’re going, I…” He’s exhausted. He slumps back against the pillows. “It’s not like I know anyone in D.C.”

“You know Liam,” Connor points out immediately. His face twists a little. “He’s a nice kid. Little naive, going around handing out oxy, but he’s nice.”

“Liam’s not you,” Evan says, looking at Connor. “He’s not… he’s not my best friend, you are.”

Connor blinks. Frowns. “I’m not… you shouldn’t just stay here for me, Evan.”

Evan wants to be mature and sensible and give Connor a bunch of legit reasons why he’d stay in California. Give him logic, facts he can’t argue with. 

But he’s tired and he’s sick and he’s reeling from this revelation that Connor’s been pulling away because he wants it not to hurt when Evan leaves. 

“Why not?” he asks quietly. “Why shouldn’t I stay for you?”

Connor looks absolutely devastated. “Because I’m not worth it.”

“Bullshit you’re not.” 

That just seems to make Connor look sadder, fuck. Evan’s head hurts. His heart hurts. 

Everything hurts. 

Connor doesn’t respond to that. Evan lets out a shaky breath, his chest aching. “It’s not selfish to want people to stay,” he says after a while. “I get it. Not wanting people to leave, I…”

His eyes fill with tears, completely unprompted, and it’s so fucking humiliating. 

Connor’s face falls. 

He just looks even sadder. 

“You said something else when the fever was bad,” Connor says unhappily. Evan feels a cold sensation crawl through him. Connor blinks a few times, then takes a breath and continues. “You told me and Heidi what happened to your mom.”

Evan’s heart stops. He genuinely thinks it stops. 

That’s…

No. 

No no no, he can’t have, what the fuck, what would he do that? Why would he  _ do  _ that why would he talk about his mom what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck?

“What did I say?” he asks frantically. Connor’s eyes go wide and scared. 

He looks like he regrets saying anything which is very relatable because Evan definitely does. 

Connor shifts his jaw. Blinks a few times. Bites his lip. 

“You said she took a bunch of pills,” he says quietly. 

Fuck. 

_ Fuck _ . 

That’s even worse, worse than he initially feared, Connor absolutely does not need to know that shit, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. 

He’s having trouble breathing. He can’t breathe, he-

“Whoa, okay,” says Connor, alarmed. He moves to sit next to Evan and puts his arm around his shoulder. “It’s okay, it’s all okay, you’re okay-”

“I shouldn’t have told you that, why would I tell you that?”

Connor blinks. Looks a little… hurt. “You were pretty out of it,” he says, kind of defensively. “It wasn’t like you were all ‘guess what, my mom killed herself’.”

Evan takes in a sharp breath. 

Connor swears quietly under his breath. 

“I didn’t want y-you to kn-know,” Evan says quickly, trying to get the words out before he just loses it completely. “N-not what she did, n-not how she did it, not when you… when you…” He closes his eyes. “I know you don’t want to t-talk about what h-happened to y-you and-and-and I m-made it all w-worse for you and-and-and I’m always f-fucking shit up you d-don’t want to hear about my b-bullshit I keep  _ telling  _ you all th-these things I keep t-telling you my secrets and it’s stupid I’m so-so stupid because you d-don’t trust me you d-don’t need my bullshit it’s all just bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit,” Connor says firmly, tightening his grip around Evan’s shoulder. Then he pauses, like he’s catching up with what’s being said. “You think I don’t trust you?”

Evan should lie. 

Should be polite. 

“You d-don’t  _ have  _ to trust me,” he mumbles, his face on fire. “You-you d-don’t owe me your secrets, I j-just… you know my biggest one but everything I know about you I… found out by-by accident, I…” He blinks. Wipes his face. “You d-don’t owe me anything I’m being a  _ dick _ .”

Connor’s staring at him, this unreadable expression on his face. 

Evan feels like the worst human being on the planet. 

“Can we m-maybe forget this c-conversation happened?” Evan asks weakly. “It’s… you d-don’t have to… I kn-know what it feels like to have things you c-can’t talk about, I d-don’t want to…” He feels his shoulders sag under the weight of it all. His mom, Connor, being sick… all of it. “It’s okay. N-not to trust me.” 

* * *

Connor can’t find the words. He feels overloaded, he feels overwhelmed, and devastated a little to discover Evan thinks he doesn’t trust him. 

Connor trusts Evan more than he’s ever trusted anyone. 

Anyone.

It’s just. 

He doesn’t know how to talk about things. How to talk about any of it. He struggles to talk, like, period about anything even remotely in the realm of being real. M used to call him on it constantly, begging and pushing and trying to scratch the surface. 

“I do trust you,” Connor says softly. “Evan I… you might be, like. One of the only people I’ve ever trusted.”

Evan’s face remains tight and anxious and sad. “You d-don’t owe me anything, you d-d-don’t have to tell me -”

“I want to,” Connor says, his voice sort of strangled. Sort of hoarse. “It’s. Just. I don’t… I don’t know how? I’ve never…” He shakes his head ruefully. “I’ve been in therapy for-for two years basically, and I’ve never said it. Haven’t really talked about it with my parents, with… anyone.” He takes a shaky breath. “I just… I can’t?”

“That’s okay,” Evan rushes to say. “That’s okay, y-y-you don’t h-have to, I’m sorry I just keep… I keep d-d-dumping my shit on you and…”

“No that’s…” Connor feels horribly light-headed. Like he might faint or something. He finds himself gripping Evan’s shoulder a little tighter, trying to be steady, trying to be here. “You’re not okay? I want you to tell me this stuff. I want you to feel like I’m someone safe for you to come to, okay? I want to be that for you.”

Evan nods and he looks so sad, so defeated. “B-b-but I’m not. I’m not that f-for you.”

“I didn’t say that,” Connor says, his heart in his throat. “I just…” He sucks in a deep breath. He can do this. 

Evan’s not gonna laugh. 

He’s not gonna make fun of him or call him Quitter. 

But it’s a lot to try to spit out. It’s a lot to work up the courage to say. 

“Just… I  _ want  _ to,” Connor says, his voice pained, “But I… I just. It’s like every time you look at me it’s like my throat closes up.”

“It’s… it’s okay,” Evan says, his voice far too steady for someone so sick. Fuck, now Connor is, like, crying and he’s supposed to be here to look after Evan take care of Evan and he’s fucked it up somehow and Evan. 

Takes his hand. Holds it tightly. 

“I’m n-not. I’m not g-g-gonna look at you?” He says quietly. “We can. J-just sit here. And y-you can tell me, if y-you want. And I’ll… I’ll tell you. Okay?”

Connor squeezes Evan’s hand experimentally. It’s warm and solid in his. 

Connor has cold hands. 

Always has. 

“Okay.” 

Evan turns so he’s looking straight ahead. Not looking at Connor. 

He speaks first. “I…” He takes a shaky breath. “M-m-my mom k-killed herself. When I was seven.” He swallows audibly and Connor can see him pull a face. “I found her.”

“Fuck,” Connor says. “I’m so fucking sorry.” He squeezes Evan’s hand tighter, just for a second, and Evan sniffs and squeezes back. 

“Now… n-now you go.” 

Fuck. 

Connor doesn’t know if he can. His throat feels so tight, his chest feels constricted, he’s scared he might cry. 

But Evan’s not looking at him. 

And he wouldn’t make fun of Evan if Evan cried. 

He can do this. 

It’s just a few words. 

Words he can’t even make himself think, let alone talk about… 

Connor takes a shuddering breath. Evan squeezes his hand. 

“I don’t think I can do this,” Connor says. 

“Okay,” Evan says gently. He doesn’t push. He doesn’t pull his hand away either. 

“If there was anybody I would tell, it would be you…”

“Okay.” 

“I d-don’t even know… where I’d start,” Connor says helplessly. “Like. What I should even…”

Evan nods. Connor can see it out of the corner of his eye. He gives Connor’s hand a squeeze. “S-s-sometimes. For m-me? I j-just. Try to stick to the f-facts. And go from there.”

Connor nods. 

He swallows. His throat feels sort of scratchy and sore. 

He breathes unevenly. 

Okay. Okay. 

Okay. 

Connor takes in a breath. 

He can’t. 

“It’s okay.” Evan says. 

Connor breathes again. 

His hands are shaking. He’s never said this. 

He’s never said it to anyone. 

“I tried to kill myself when I was fifteen,” Connor manages to whisper. 

His eyes flood. A tear drips hot and embarrassing down his cheek. 

“I’m so sorry,” Evan says quietly. 

“I bought the pills I used off of Jared Kleinman.”

Evan’s shoulder is tense next to Connor. “I knew I h-hated that guy.”

Connor breathes again. In. Out. In. Out. 

In. 

“I wrote a note.” 

Out. 

In. 

“Jared found it. I left it in my locker.” 

Out. 

In. 

“I said I didn’t want to be weak, I didn’t want to be a  _ quitter… _ ” 

Out. 

In. 

“But that everything was… too much to keep fighting.” 

Out. 

Evan squeezes his hand. Tight tight tight tight. 

“Jared… made copies. Stuck them in people’s lockers.”

“Fuck. Connor that’s…”

“So that’s why everyone calls me Quitter.” 

“Okay,” Evan says. His voice is quiet. Ragged. He’s sick and Connor is spilling his guts to him, he’s being so gross and awful and taking advantage of Evan’s kindness, he’s such an asshole why is he making this about him? “Thank you. F-f-for trusting me.”

Connor sniffs again. 

He feels like he’s starting to break down. Like he’s losing his shit. Tears keep coming, faster and faster and faster. “Evan I’m so-so sorry about your mom,” he whispers. 

“I… It’s hard. T-to. To talk about her?”

Connor nods. “That’s so unfair. You were only a little kid.” 

“She was sick,” Evan says. “She was… She w-wasn’t h-happy.” 

“I’m so sorry.” 

Evan sighs. “I’m gonna look at you now, okay?”

Connor swallows. He wants to hide his face. In his hands, behind his hair, shove it into a pillow. 

But he doesn’t. 

He lets Evan look at him. 

Evan still kind of looks like shit. He’s pale and a little sweaty and his eyes are wet and big and sad. He’s got a few freckles on his nose that stand out in contrast to how pale he is right now. 

But his eyes are kind. And his mouth shapes a sympathetic smile. “I’m-I’m so sorry about what happened to you.” 

“Nothing happened,” Connor practically whispers. “I happened. I did it to myself.” 

Evan shakes his head gently. “You didn’t ask for any of it.” 

And Connor can’t stop now. It’s like he’s a leaky faucet that’s finally given up and started gushing. He can’t stop the tears or the shaking because he is so fucking sad. 

He’s so crushed by all of it. 

Evan. His mom. He found her. He found his mom dead. That’s so unfair, he was only seven, only a kid, it’s not fair not fair. None of that is fair he deserves so much better. 

Himself. His fifteen-year-old self. Who couldn’t see anything ever getting better. Who stupidly poured his heart out to paper. Who found himself a laughing stock because he didn’t manage to die. 

He’s just so overwhelmingly sad for both of them. How much shit they’ve taken and gone through, how much shit they’ve had to hide just to stay above water. 

It’s not fair. 

Somehow, Evan rests his head on Connor’s shoulder. Their hands are still intertwined. Connor rests his head on top of Evan and they both just breathe for a long time. Until their breathing is less jagged and painful and wet. Until it feels less overwhelming. Until maybe it’s okay. 

Okay to talk about it. 

It’s a weird feeling. Kind of dizzying. 

But maybe okay. 

* * *

Heidi wakes up feeling… less exhausted. 

Less scared. 

Connor hasn’t come to wake her, so Evan must still be asleep. Or they’re talking or watching TV or something, Heidi wouldn’t put it past her kid to ask Connor not to wake her. 

Stupid noble kid. 

Fuck, he scared the shit out of her. What the hell was he thinking, letting himself get so sick? Not telling her when he started to feel bad?

_ He probably didn’t know how,  _ she realizes with a sinking feeling.  _ Didn’t know he was supposed to.  _

Heidi’s been a parent for about five seconds but she still knows what a parent is supposed to do. Look after their kid. 

Protect them. Care for them. 

It’s heartbreaking that Evan hasn’t had that. 

Heidi opens the door of her room and heads out to the top of the stairs. Listens for any noise from the living room, but it’s quiet. 

She decides it’s worth taking the time to shower, to change. She’s called out sick for today but she doesn’t want to let her clients down. Maybe she can get some work done from home later on this evening. 

No, she tells herself firmly. Today’s about Evan. Don’t even look at your emails. 

She’s been letting him down, working so much.

If she hadn’t been working so much, maybe she’d have noticed sooner how sick he was. Maybe it wouldn’t have gotten so bad. 

Heidi decides not to put in her contacts. Her eyes still ache from all the crying she’s done in the last 24 hours and she’s not leaving the house. David always thought her glasses were cute, anyway. 

She heads downstairs in a comfortable pair of jeans, a t-shirt and slippers, and finds Evan and Connor curled up on the sofa. Evan’s awake, leaning against Connor’s shoulder, but they’re not really saying anything. 

It’s immediately obvious they’ve both been crying. Her heart clenches painfully at the sight, but she’s not going to bring it up. 

“Hey sweetheart,” she says to Evan. Evan looks up at her, face pale and eyes red, but he smiles. “How are you feeling?”

“Not awesome,” he replies, his voice rough. “Throat hurts.”

Connor blinks. “I got you a smoothie.”

Evan looks at him. “You did?”

“Yeah,” he says, standing up. “It’s in the fridge, let me get it for you.”

With that, he smiles awkwardly at Heidi, then leaves the living room. Heidi takes Connor’s spot on the couch and pulls Evan into her arms immediately. 

It’s easier when she can see him, physically touch him. It makes her… less afraid. 

“You hanging in there?” she asks, pushing his hair off his forehead. He’s still hot, but not burning the way he was. “I wanna take your temperature quickly, okay?”

Evan frowns a little, but nods. By the time Connor’s back with the smoothie, she’s got the thermometer under his tongue. “Okay, 100.3,” she says. “Still kind of high, but better than it was.”

Connor takes a seat on one of the armchairs after handing Evan the smoothie. His cheeks are flushed, Heidi notices with dismay, and there’s sweat on his brow. 

She sighs. Takes the thermometer, goes to the kitchen to wash it and grabs a Gatorade from the fridge as well as an assortment of painkillers and cold meds. 

When she gets back to the living room, she heads straight to Connor. “Okay kid,” she says matter-of-factly. “Let me take  _ your  _ temperature.”

Connor flinches. “I’m fine?” he says, like it’s a question. 

Evan lets out this sigh of annoyance. “ _ Connor _ . You idiot.”

Connor’s temperature is 99.8. He looks genuinely surprised at the result. “Huh.”

“Take these,” says Heidi, handing Connor the Gatorade and some medication. “We don’t want it getting worse.”

His face flushes a little. She can’t tell if it’s from the illness or embarrassment. “Sorry,” he mutters. “You don’t have to-”

“J-just do what she says,” Evan interrupts, looking at Connor with this fond expression. “Seeing as you were dumb and-and got yourself sick looking after me.”

Connor looks at Evan and blinks. His face goes soft. “Worth it,” he says quietly, and Evan’s cheeks go pink. 

Then he smiles this huge, genuine smile, and it makes Heidi’s heart feel warm to see. Evan’s got a great smile when he’s really smiling. When he’s not trying to hide it. 

Connor seems to think so, too. He’s staring at Evan like he’s the most amazing thing he’s ever seen. 

Evan looks so happy. They both look… worn out and sick, but they’re smiling at each other like none of that matters, and…

They’re good for each other, she realizes with sudden clarity. Despite all the drama, the miscommunication, the stupid teenage boy idiocy, they’re good for each other. 

She’s never seen Evan smile like that before. 

Hasn’t seen Connor smile like that since he was a little kid. 

The way they look at each other…

Heidi knows Evan had a crush on Zoe. It was obvious from the get go. But he never looked at Zoe the way he looks at Connor. 

Larry seems to think Connor has feelings for Evan, and Heidi’s starting to think that maybe it goes both ways. 

She wonders if Evan knows. 

Something tells her that he doesn’t. 

Once Connor’s taken some medication, Heidi goes to get more blankets from the linen closet. More pillows. Tries to make sure they’re both comfortable. While Connor protests a little at her fussing, he doesn’t tell her to stop. His cheeks go pink and he smiles this small smile and keeps thanking her. 

Honestly, Heidi’s not surprised he’s sick. Connor’s unhealthily thin, his immune system is probably shit. 

She’s thinking about whether she should get some food into the two of them when she hears the front door open. She heads out to the foyer and there’s Larry, coming in with a large take-out bag. 

“You want the good news or the bad news?” she asks lightly. 

Larry’s eyes go wide. “Bad news first. Always.”

“The bad news is that your kid’s an idiot,” she says bluntly. “He skipped school to hang out with Evan, and he’s got himself sick.”

Larry sighs. “Of course he did.” He frowns. “And the good news?”

“Evan’s fever broke overnight,” she says. “He’s still pretty miserable, but at least he’s making sense.”

Larry nods. His expression goes dark and he looks at Heidi, frowning. “We need to talk about his dad,” he says bluntly. “The way he was talking about him last night…”

“Mark signed over guardianship,” Heidi tells Larry firmly. “He’ll never lay a hand on Evan again. Never even  _ see  _ him again.”

Larry sets his jaw. “He should be in  _ jail _ .”

“He has been,” Heidi says, her voice shaking. “He’s got priors. Assault, domestic violence, public intoxication, all from before he took custody of Evan.”

Larry’s face goes white with anger. There’s a vein on his forehead that pops out when he’s angry.

David always used to call it the rage vein. Make jokes about The Incredible Hulk. 

“How the fuck did anyone let him near a  _ child _ ?” Larry demands. 

“He’s his biological father,” Heidi says with a frown. “It took them three years to track him down, but after his mom died he was his only living relative.”

“He wasn’t fit to take care of him!”

“I know that,” Heidi snaps. “I know. He didn’t want him, I think he only agreed because of some kind of single parent benefit…” She sighs. Crosses her arms. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t care about him, I care about Evan.”

Larry doesn’t look any less angry. “Child Services still watching you like a hawk?” 

Heidi nods. “Yeah. The social worker has popped in a couple of times.”

Larry looks furious. “How many times did they check in on Mark?”

Heidi doesn’t have an answer for that. 

Doesn’t have the capacity to even deal with that right now. She looks at the bag in Larry’s hand. “What’s that?”

The anger in Larry’s face melts away. “Matzo ball soup,” he says, something tentative in his voice. “I ordered… a lot of it. From that place near the office? David used to get it for you when you were sick.”

Heidi feels stupidly like crying. “You got Evan matzo ball soup?”

Larry blinks. “You said he’s Jewish. I thought it might… he doesn’t have to eat it.”

“Thank you,” Heidi says, blinking a few times. “That’s… thank you.”

She guides Larry into the living room. Connor goes red at the sight of him, tensing his shoulders like he’s about to get yelled at. Larry, to his credit, chuckles a little and tells Connor that he should have seen this coming. 

“Want me to run home and grab you a change of clothes?” he offers. “You’d probably be more comfortable in anything other than those jeans.”

Connor’s cheeks go even pinker. He mumbles some sort of agreement. 

Larry seems to realize something. “I didn’t get a call from the school. That truancy officer probably still has a photo of you on his wall from freshman year.”

“I got Rhonda to call me out,” Connor mumbles. 

Larry’s eyes go wide. Heidi actually laughs at that. 

“Oh my god, Rhonda is such a soft touch,” she says with a smile. “She always liked you.”

“Who’s Rhonda?” Evan asks. 

“The office assistant at Dad’s firm,” Connor says quietly. “She’s nice.” He looks at his dad, a little desperately. “I don’t want to get her in trouble.”

“I’m sure your dad will go easy on her,” says Heidi, looking at Larry significantly. Larry hesitates, then sighs and nods. She smiles and changes the subject. “Larry brought soup. All of us should eat something.”

Evan, it turns out, hasn’t had matzo ball soup since he was very small. He’s got this sad little smile when he sees it and tells them quietly that his mom used to make it. 

Once he’s had a few spoonfuls, he goes on to say that this is a lot better than his mom’s. 

“She wasn’t much of a cook,” he says, his face twisting a little. “She made good latkes, though.” He looks at Connor. “I used her recipe. When we made latkes at Christmas.”

“You did?” Connor says, surprised. His face goes all soft. “That’s really cool.” He takes another sip of his soup, then looks from Evan to his dad, then back. “Maybe when we’re feeling better, you could teach Dad and I how to make them?”

Evan perks up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” says Connor. He smiles a little. “You can tell me all about the health benefits of the potato.”

Evan smiles sheepishly. “I kind of think that the benefits of the potato are more… psychological.”

Larry laughs. “Oh?” 

“Yeah,” says Evan, looking at Larry, then back at Connor. “I mean, there’s fiber and potassium, and also vitamin C and B6, but mostly... potatoes just make people happy.”

“Agreed,” says Heidi with a grin, and Connor smiles. 

Larry looks a little relieved. Smiles at Evan gratefully. 

Once they finish eating, Larry heads back to the Murphy house to get something for Connor to change into while Heidi tries to convince Evan to sit the hell down when he tries to clean up from lunch. He’s shaky on his feet like some kind of newborn giraffe, and Heidi’s afraid he’ll faceplant if he’s not careful. 

She takes care of getting the space a little cleaner, then pulls some popsicles out of the freezer for the three of them. They’re all eating popsicles when Larry comes back with a duffel bag and a couple of blankets. Heidi tilts her head a little. 

Larry looks horribly apologetic. “Would it be okay if Connor stayed here while he’s sick?” he asks, sounding like he hates that he’s asking. “Cynthia’s worried about him getting her and Zoe sick.”

Heidi looks over at Connor. All the color has drained out of his face. “Mom doesn’t want me at home?”

“It’s not that,” Larry rushes to explain, but even though Larry always had a better poker face than David, Heidi’s known him long enough to know when he’s lying. “She’s just heard about how bad the flu is this season and wants to minimize the risk.”

“Right,” says Connor awkwardly. “I mean, that makes sense, I guess.”

“Of course he can stay,” Heidi assures them both. She thinks quickly. “If we want to be careful about making sure no one else gets sick, then it might be best to set the boys up in our pool house for the next couple of days.”

Evan and Connor exchange a look. They seem to be having a silent conversation, which ends in them both nodding. Connor’s frowning, though, and looks… quietly devastated about it all. 

Evan, who is sitting next to Connor, reaches out and squeezes his hand. Connor’s face relaxes almost instantly. 

“I’ll bring meals,” Larry volunteers. “So you won’t have to worry about that.” He smiles at Heidi gratefully, but there’s sadness and worry behind his eyes. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem,” Heidi tells him firmly. She pauses before she continues, but smiles at Larry. “It’s what we do for family.”

* * *

Connor feels like garbage by mid-afternoon. His dad goes back to work and Heidi claps her hands together and says she and Rosa are going to go get the pool house set up. “We haven’t used it much recently,” she says. 

Connor can’t imagine  _ why.  _ It’s not like she’s already got a whole house  _ and _ a beach house. 

Okay, so he’s kinda grumpy about being sick. He keeps that shitty thought to himself. 

Evan seems more alert and alive now. He’s not talking a lot but Connor figures that’s because his throat hurts, not because he like. Secretly hates him. 

That’s sort of a nice thought. 

They put on some mindless TV and Connor finds himself sort of drifting in and out once he changes out of his jeans. 

He kind of hates that his dad was right about them being uncomfortable. 

Connor notices that his pants aren’t as loose anymore. They're almost as tight-fitting as they’re supposed to be. He has a slight red line just under his stomach from where the waistband was digging in. 

Weird. 

Weirder still is that Connor doesn’t, like. Freak out about it. 

He wonders if this is normal. 

When he gets back from changing, Connor asks Evan. “Do your jeans like. Leave lines on your skin when you take them off?”

Evan blinks. “Uh. Like. Yeah sometimes?” He gives Connor a lopsided smile. “But you’re w-wearing fucking skinny jeans  _ so _ .”

“I like skinny jeans,” Connor says with a shrug. He sits beside Evan. “I’m probably just like. Getting fat or whatever.”

Evan looks at him for a long moment. “You’re not.” He shrugs. “And even if you w-were. So what? You’d still be you.”

_ So what.  _

Huh. 

Connor sinks into the sofa. Sort of drifts in and out in front of the television. His head is kind of pounding. 

When he wakes up, he’s resting his head on Evan’s shoulder. Evan’s still awake. He gives Connor a smile. “C-come on. Heidi and Rosa g-got the pool house all set up for us.”

“Feel like we’re being quarantined,” Connor laughs. “Like. Typhoid Mary “

“I’m g-g-gonna be pissed if we have  _ typhoid. _ ”

Connor laughs. It kind of hurts his throat. His head. He doesn’t really care. He gathers up his bags and pillows and then stares at Evan’s backpack. The emergency bag. 

The one he didn’t tell Evan that Heidi knows about. 

Evan’s looking at it too. His face twists. 

“I’m sorry I took it,” Connor says quietly. “I… that was a dick move. I just freaked out.”

“Okay.”

“When we couldn’t find you last night…” Connor starts. 

“C-couldn’t find me?” Evan says, sounding lost. 

“Yeah,” Connor says. “You were. In the pool house under a pile of blankets. You…” he looks at the ground. “You kept talking about your dad.”

“Oh.”

“I’m really sorry,” Connor says. “I told Heidi. About the bag. I was… panicking when we couldn’t find you and I got scared you might have run away.”

Evan gives him a hard look. 

“I’m so sorry,” Connor says, sitting back down. “I fucked up.”

Evan shrugs. “It’s okay,” he says. “L-like I said. I don’t. I’m not planning to. To go anywhere.”

Connor nods. 

“Thanks for. Bringing it back.” Evan stoops and picks the bag up. 

“I’m sorry. Really.”

“You don’t have to keep saying that,” Evan says softly. “If I w-were you I. M-might have spilled that too.”

* * *

He stares at the bag for a while. 

It’s a pathetic looking thing, really. Worn and faded and…

“It’s just insurance,” he tries to explain to Connor. “I  _ swear _ , it’s…” He screws up his nose. Bites his lip. “It’s like… kn-knowing it’s there is more important than… than  _ having  _ it.” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t… I don’t w-want to go.”

Connor doesn’t say anything. Evan turns to look at him. He’s frowning a little. “I guess I can understand that,” he says slowly. “Kind of. I…” He sighs. “Doesn’t mean I like it.”

“D-don’t really need you to like it,” Evan shoots back, then immediately feels guilty for having said when Connor recoils like he’s a puppy that just got kicked. “That… sorry, that… I d-don’t mean to get all…” He sighs. Tries to figure out how to put this in a way that isn’t going to make him seem like a total asshole. “So I know Miguel would, like, talk about h-how you don’t have  _ real  _ problems and you-you  _ know  _ I think that’s bullshit, but it’s… th-there are things you d-don’t understand? And it’s n-not because you suck or you’re, like, bl-blinded by privilege and I-I-I don’t want to be all ‘f-fucking rich kids don’t get it’ but… you  _ don’t  _ get it. It’s not your fault that you don’t get it, but you… you don’t.”

Connor looks a little hurt, but he nods. “I know I don’t,” he says quietly. “And I try not to be like an asshole, I just…” He looks at Evan, a little pleadingly. “If you just took off, it would break Heidi’s heart.” He pauses. Looks at his knees. “It would break  _ my  _ heart.”

Fuck, that’s…

It’s like being stabbed. 

Evan doesn’t know what to say for a long moment. 

“Heidi kn-knows,” he says finally. 

Connor nods. “Heidi knows.”

“I  _ never  _ want to hurt her,” Evan says firmly. “Or you. I just…” He blinks. His chest aches. “Maybe one-one day I’ll… I won’t feel like I  _ need  _ it?”

Connor looks at him. “I hope so,” he says quietly. 

Heidi knows. About Evan’s bag. 

He…

He’ll have to talk to her about this eventually. Have to talk to her, to clear things up, to make sure she knows that he’s not just trying to bail on her. 

Just… 

Not now. 

He’s too sick, too exhausted, too drained. He can’t find the words right now. 

He leans his head on Connor’s shoulder briefly. Connor lets out this little sigh, like he likes it, and that makes Evan feel warm all over, feel like…

Feel like it did before D.C.

Connor isn’t like anyone he’s ever met. He  _ gets  _ him. They’re not the same, and there are things about each other’s lives they’ll never understand, but when you cut through all the bullshit down to what counts, there’s something there that connects them. 

“Hey,” Evan says quietly, not looking at Connor, not wanting to freak him out. “I’m sorry I got you sick and all, but I’m kind of…” He lets out a small laugh. “Well, if we’ve got fucking typhoid, then at least we’re together, you know?”

Connor’s quiet for a moment. 

“At least we’re together.”

Heidi shows up then with Rosa. They’re deep in conversation in Spanish. He’s not naturally good at languages, so even though he’s getting good grades in Spanish class he has no idea what they’re saying. He likes it, though. Likes hearing them laugh together. 

Evan still doesn’t know how he feels about the fact that there’s a fucking housekeeper, but Rosa’s nice and Heidi doesn’t, like, make her do embarrassing shit or whatever. 

“Okay, let’s move out,” says Heidi to Evan and Connor. “Your private room awaits, gentlemen.” The minute she says it, she screws up her face. “That sounded way less creepy in my head.”

Rosa smiles at them. “Do you want the pillows?” she asks, and Evan nods, because they’re nice pillows. She starts gathering pillows and blankets. 

Heidi takes Evan’s backpack. Looks at it for a moment, recognition on her face. She looks at Evan and his heart sinks. 

Fuck. 

Okay, guess they’re talking about this now. 

He’s not expecting what she says next. 

“I’ll put this in your closet. Keep it safe for you.”

He feels his face go pale. “I’m sorry, I-”

“We can talk about it when you’re feeling better,” she says firmly. “But I’m not… I’m not mad and I’m not going to get rid of it, okay? I’m just taking it to your closet. I promise.”

Evan nods. 

Feels the tension in his shoulders relax a little. 

“Okay.”

Evan’s a little shaky on his feet, so Heidi helps him get from the main house to the pool house without, like, passing out and falling into the pool. 

The pool that he has literally never seen anyone use. 

Heidi sees him looking at it and goes a little pink. “Honestly, I should just empty it,” she says, clearly embarrassed. “Fill it with, like, those little balls in a McDonald’s playground. That always looked like fun.”

“You don’t swim?” Evan asks. 

Heidi shakes her head. “Never learned,” she says. 

“Me either,” Evan admits, and Heidi smiles softly. 

“Maybe this summer we can take swimming lessons together,” she suggests. “Seeing as we, you know, live in California.”

Evan looks at her. He’s tired and sick and he doesn’t have much of a filter. 

“Will we still be living in California this summer?”

Heidi’s smile fades slowly. She looks at him carefully. “That’s up to you, sweetheart.”

“No offense,” he says, trying to keep his words gentle, “but that’s a… a lot of p-pressure. It all being up to me.”

Heidi looks a little surprised. She nods. “So maybe that’s something else we talk about when you’re feeling better, huh?”

“Okay,” Evan agrees. 

Heidi looks so guilty. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much.”

“Your job is important,” Evan says. 

“You’re important,” Heidi counters. 

Evan feels this warmth in his insides. “If-if it weren’t for your job, we would never have met,” he reminds her quietly. “And I… I d-don’t know who I’d be if I hadn’t met you, Heidi.”

It’s too raw. 

Too personal. 

_ Way  _ too much. 

But Heidi’s eyes go soft and she smiles and pulls him closer using the arm she’s already got around his waist, keeping him steady. “Right back at you, kiddo.”

The pool house is… kind of weird, in that it is exactly the same as the Murphys pool house. Just slightly different furniture. It’s set up kind of like a too-big TV apartment and there’s a massive bed in the middle of the room, facing a huge flat-screen television. There’s a kitchen that’s bigger than the kitchen in Mark and Elaine’s apartment. A bathroom that’s stupidly huge. A desk, a dining room table… the place is fucking ridiculous, really. 

Why do they even have a pool house?

If Heidi can’t swim, why do they even have a pool?

It’s completely insane that Heidi lived here alone in this house for over a year. She should just move to the beach house. 

She seems happier there. 

Evan sure as hell knows he is. 

Rosa has set up a million pillows against the headboard of the bed. “It’s big,” she tells them. “Heidi says you can share.” She smiles a little, and Evan remembers something he heard once about personal space differing between cultures. Two men sharing a bed is probably no big deal in her culture. She’s probably, like, rolling her eyes a little at the straight white boy getting all hung up about it. 

Not that he is that hung up about it, really. It’s not like he hasn’t shared a bed with Connor before. 

Granted, that was before he knew Connor was gay, but it’s not like he became a different person or anything. 

And Evan’s way too sick to worry about that shit right now, anyway. 

Soon he and Connor are in the stupidly huge bed, separated by a gazillion pillows, and Heidi hands them the remote for the television. She looks at Connor and smirks. “MTV?”

“If you insist,” Connor says with a grin, and Evan feels like he’s missed a joke but finds he doesn’t really mind. 

It’s not long before he drifts off. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "Somewhere I Belong" by Linkin Park.


	35. Is It Serious? I’m Afraid It Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys recover, and MTV has Connor's back.

Connor wakes up sometime in the early evening, he thinks. His dad is shaking him gently. 

“I didn’t want to wake you,” he says quietly. “But you gotta eat something.”

Connor nods. Wearily drags himself to the table. Evan’s already there. He’s got these huge bags under his eyes still. Looks pretty miserable.

It matches how Connor feels. 

His dad brought them more soup. Apple sauce. Mashed potatoes. Ice cream. He knows his dad’s not much of a chef, but normally his meals are a little more cohesive. 

The penny drops. It’s stuff that’s not hard to eat. Stuff that’s easy on the throat. Easy to swallow. There’s tea and honey and more Gatorade. His dad might have bought out an entire aisle at the store. 

Right. 

Connor sighs. 

“You good?” Evan asks him with a yawn. 

Connor nods. He’s gonna try. 

His dad insists on taking both of their temperatures. Evan’s is holding steady at 99.1. Connor’s has spiked a bit. He’s at 102.5. 

“Your fever is higher,” his dad says with a frown. 

“Yeah. I’m-” he ends up coughing painfully. “Sick,” he finishes lamely. 

His dad doesn’t stay too long. Just watches as Connor takes a couple of spoonfuls of soup. A bite of potatoes. 

“I should get home,” he says quietly. “You boys have everything you need?”

Connor and Evan both nod. 

His dad gives Connor a one-armed hug. Kisses his head. 

Weird. 

“Make sure you take some more medicine when you’re finished eating,” he tells Connor. 

“I will.”

His dad leaves. 

Evan watches as Connor gets up. Finds the Ibuprofen. Swallows the recommended dose. “You in these or Tylenol?” He asks Evan. 

Evan says Tylenol. Connor brings some over to him. Sits wearily. 

He doesn’t think he can eat anymore. 

“Sorry I got you sick,” Evan says quietly. 

“It’s cool,” Connor says. “I would have gotten it anyway. I get sick easily.”

He’s not even sure if that’s true. He just wants Evan not to look so fucking guilty. 

Evan eats a bit more. Not a lot. He’s pretty pale. He looks at Connor. “Is this how it normally is for you?” He asks. 

He’s not stuttering, Connor notices. 

“How what is?”

“Not wanting to eat?” Evan asks. 

Connor shrugs. 

Evan nods. 

They put the food into the fridge. Crawl back into bed. The TV is still on. Connor’s really tired. He settles back against the pillows and then notices how Evan’s watching him. 

“I can lay on the couch?” he croaks. 

“Don’t be stupid,” Evan says. “You’re shivering.”

Connor doesn’t follow. 

But then Evan’s scooting closer. He sits right next to Connor. Pulls the blankets up to their chins. “Body heat,” he says. A little defensive. 

“Okay.”

Before long they’re sort of leaning against each other. Evan puts his head on Connor’s shoulder. Connor snakes his arm around Evan’s waist. 

“Dude,” he says stupidly. “This is kinda… gay.”

Evan laughs at him. Doesn’t move. “I’m not  _ that  _ insecure in my… whatever. Masculinity or. Whatever.”

But that’s not why Connor’s bringing it up. 

“Why didn’t you sleep with Zoe?” he asks. 

Evan pulls away slightly. 

“Not that I want you, like, fucking my sister or whatever,” Connor rushes to say. “Just. You know. She  _ wanted  _ to and she likes you or whatever.”

“It’s n-not because I’m gay,” Evan says quickly. 

“No, not because you’re gay,” he says. Connor knows. He’s a little. Disappointed. But he knows. Connor knows Evan’s not gay. “Just... why not?”

Evan shrugs. He looks embarrassed. “Because I… I’ve never had sex before.”

_ Yeah no shit.  _

“So?” Connor says. 

“It all felt. K-kinda f-fast?”

Connor nods. “Yeah I get that.”

“And-and. Like I’m.” Evan blows out a breath. “It uh. K-k-kinda freaks me out?”

Connor blinks, surprised. “Why?”

Evan shrugs. “Be-because. You have to be… all. V-vulnerable? And-and you’re literally  _ naked _ and-and-and somebody is  _ looking _ at you. Watching you like…”

Connor thinks about that. Recalls how it felt to have M gazing at him. Pinching the roll of fat around his waist and laughing and telling Connor he wasn’t nearly as skinny as M thought he’d be. 

He guesses that. Yeah. That kinda wigs him out too. “I guess that’s fair.” He shrugs. “But like. I dunno. With the right person it’s not as scary I guess?”

Evan frowns to himself. “Was M the right person?”

Connor shakes his head. “Fuck no. I was always super self-conscious with him.”

Evan nods thoughtfully. “What about Reg? Whatever h-happened there? I know you guys…”

Connor shrugs. “I think it’s probably best if that remains a one-time thing.”

“Oh.”

“I mean. We still text sometimes? And he’s nice and cool and whatever but… I mean he’s at  _ Harvard.  _ There’s no way to make something work over that much distance.”

“Oh.”

Evan looks… kind of crushed. 

Fuck. Connor’s just saying shit. “I mean. I mean like  _ romantically _ . Like. Obviously, if you go to D.C., I’m not gonna like… stop talking to you.”

Evan looks even worse. Sadder still. “Yeah. Ob-Obviously.” He sounds like he doesn’t believe Connor and Connor  _ hates  _ it. 

He tries to fix it. “I’m.  _ Evan.  _ C’mon man. I’m not gonna stop being your friend or whatever if you guys move.”

Evan nods. “I know I know just…” he shrugs, this tiny jerking movement. “I would g-get it. If you did.”

“I won’t,” Connor says. He wraps his arm around Evan a little bit tighter. “I’m not gonna ditch you. I want you to do whatever makes the most sense for you. Okay? We’ll just. Get good about talking on the phone or whatever.”

Evan sniffs. Connor can’t tell if he’s crying or just stuffy because he’s sick. He leans his head back on Connor’s shoulder. They’re quiet a while. Connor half thinks Evan has fallen asleep. 

“Freshman year…” Evan says quietly. 

Connor shivers without meaning to. “Yeah?”

“Do y-you… you don’t still think about it? Right?”

Connor’s too tired not to be honest. “Yeah. Sometimes I think about it. Like. If stuff really sucks? It’s like my brain is. Hanging onto that. Like… you know those signs that are like ‘in case of emergency, break glass’?” He frowns. “I think that’s what my brain’s like. It’s holding onto it even though I know… I know how painful and dumb it would be to break the glass… sometimes it feel like it’s the only option I’ve got left.”

Evan shakes his head, looking almost angry. “No. Okay? No. You can’t. You  _ can’t _ do that…”

“I don’t  _ want  _ to,” Connor tries to reassure him. 

“You’re not allowed to die, okay?” Evan says softly. “You’re not allowed to die on me. I wouldn’t… I couldn’t take it if you died. So you can’t. Okay? You can’t die. You’re not allowed to die.”

Connor kind of wants to argue. That Evan’s not being fair. But he keeps talking. 

“I’m. I know that’s not fair. That-that saying that is-is-is selfish and horrible but… you can’t die okay? You can’t kill yourself. I won’t let you.”

Connor nods. “Okay.” Nobody’s ever. Said anything like that to him before. Nobody’s ever expressed a need for him to stick around. 

“I won’t let you,” Evan repeats. His voice is smooth and firm.

“Alright,” Connor relents. 

Evan settles back against Connor’s shoulder. Plays with a loose string on Connor’s t-shirt. Connor breaks out in goosebumps. 

His eyes droop. He’s so  _ tired _ . Connor feels like he could drop off any moment suddenly. Evan looks much the same. Like the conversation has drained them both. 

“You’re not allowed. Not allowed to… to leave okay?”

“Kay,” Connor says quietly. 

And before long, he’s drifting off. 

* * *

When Evan wakes up next, he’s curled up against Connor. 

They’re basically cuddling. It’s…

_ Even Connor fucking called you on it, _ the voice in his head says.  _ This is pretty fucking gay. And he doesn’t even  _ want  _ this, just because  _ he’s  _ gay doesn’t mean you should be draping yourself all over him like this.  _

Connor murmurs something in his sleep and pulls Evan closer. 

And Evan just…

Closes his eyes and goes back to sleep. 

The next time he wakes up, Connor’s sitting up against the mountain of pillows and the TV’s on. He smiles the minute he sees Evan looking at him, this sleepy smile that makes something in Evan’s chest warm. 

He likes it when Connor’s smiling. 

Evan looks at the television and laughs. He recognizes the song as Panic! At The Disco. “Oh my god.”

Connor grins. “MTV has my back today,” he says, almost cheerfully. “They seem to be playing, like, exclusively emo shit.”

“Why are there fish tanks on their heads?” Evan asks, genuinely curious. 

“As far as I can tell, they don’t breathe air,” Connor says, lying back on the pillow. His nose is red and he’s pale and looks exhausted. “Just water.”

Evan shudders a little. “That’s… freaky,” he confesses. “I can’t swim.”

Connor looks at him. “You can’t?”

“Nope,” Evan admits quietly. “I never learned? And when I was, like, nine, I was with this foster family and the dad got so annoyed I couldn’t swim and decided to… basically force me? S-so he th-threw me in the deep end of a swimming pool and-and I nearly drowned so-so now I just d-don’t want to, you know?”

Connor’s face crumbles. He looks so fucking sad. 

So, so fucking sad. 

Then something in his face twists. Changes. 

“You can’t swim,” he repeats, like he’s piecing something together in his mind. 

But he doesn’t say anything else, because the song is over and Connor looks at the television and his eyes light up. “Oh man, this video is awesome,” he says enthusiastically, and Evan looks at the screen to see a parked car and the words  _ Fall Out Boy Presents… A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More Touch Me _ . 

They watch as the video opens like a cheesy horror film. Evan finds himself smiling in amusement at the ridiculousness of all of it, especially how stupid the guy from Fall Out Boy looks in the obvious fake vampire fangs. 

“Wait, hang on, he’s a vampire and he’s drinking a smoothie with garlic and holy water in it?” Evan asks. “Shouldn’t that kill him?”

“I just love the way he chops the garlic,” says Connor, clearly entertained. “There’s so much existential angst.”

Evan looks at Connor, whose cheeks are a little pink. The penny drops. 

“You  _ like  _ him.”

“I like this band,” Connor says defensively. 

“You think he’s hot,” Evan continues with a grin. 

Connor crosses his arms, clearly a little embarrassed. “He’s not  _ not  _ hot.”

Evan goes back to the video. The drummer has long hair, but not as long as Connor’s. Glasses. A piercing. Watching him play the drums is… fascinating. 

Watching him sparring with a punching bag shirtless with a full back of tattoos is… also fascinating. 

“Would you ever get a tattoo?” Evan asks suddenly. 

Connor makes a non-committal noise from beside him. “I’m not opposed,” he says. “But, like, I don’t really know what I’d get. And probably not a full back tattoo like that.”

“Seems like it’d take ages,” Evan muses. “It looks good, though.”

Connor starts a little. “Yeah?”

Evan clears his throat, then immediately regrets it because it’s painful as all hell. “I mean, it suits him. I guess. Whatever.” Looks back at the video, where Pete Wentz is apparently struggling with vampire peer pressure. “This video is kind of nuts, dude.”

“It gets even more nuts,” says Connor, sounding delighted. “So, like, there are a bunch of emo bands on the same label? And this video is awesome because there are cameos from members of other bands in it.”

“Really?” Evan asks, genuinely interested. “Which bands?”

“The Academy Is… and Panic! At The Disco,” Connor says immediately. 

Evan laughs, even though laughing is painful right now. “Oh my god, of  _ course  _ you’re into this. Let me guess… Brendon Urie is a vampire?”

Connor grins. “Brendon Urie is a vampire.” Moments later he points to the screen. “And that’s the guy from Gym Class Heroes.”

Evan didn’t quite catch it, but he nods anyway. 

There’s a bunch of guys walking in formation all dressed up in suits and the main guy has, like, some kind of fur over his shoulder and there are gloves and waistcoats and bowler hats and Evan’s pretty fucking sure one of them’s gotta be Brendon Urie because of  _ course  _ he’d be in this outfit but he’s a little distracted by the main guy, who is tall and thin and has long hair and high cheekbones.

“That guy looks like you,” Evan says, like a fucking idiot, and Connor looks a little startled. 

“Really?”

Evan nods. “Definitely.” He smiles a little. “Is he about to challenge someone to a duel?”

“Probably,” Connor says, smiling back. He looks back at the screen. “Ugh, remember how fucking uncomfortable it was wearing those gloves at cotillion?” He laughs a little, still looking at the screen. “Brendon Urie is clearly having the  _ best  _ time. Look how extra his fangs are.”

“Yeah,” says Evan, who has absolutely not noticed Brendon Urie at all because the main guy is still capturing his attention. As he drops the glove and moves away, the resemblance to Connor becomes even more apparent. The guy is basically all leg. 

A ridiculously choreographed fight scene ensues and the main fancy vampire guy sits on a car and looks on with apparent boredom. 

“Is the guy sitting on the car from another band?” Evan asks. 

Connor nods. “Oh yeah, that’s William Beckett from The Academy Is…”

“Right.”

He’s… very distracting. 

“See, there’s Brendon Urie there,” Connor says, sounding delighted, and Evan has to laugh a little because of course the lead singer of Panic! At The Disco shows up and has fancy dance moves. He tells Connor this and Connor laughs and smiles happily. 

“Cool hat,” Evan offers. “Don’t think I could pull off the fancy vampire look, though.”

Connor looks at him. His cheeks go a little pink. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

The fight continues. The lead singer of Fall Out Boy gets eaten by female vampires. 

Brendon Urie keeps up with his fancy dance moves. 

The lead fancy vampire is drinking a cup of tea on top of a car. 

“This video is insane,” Evan says happily. 

“It’s one of my favorites,” Connor replies. “Like I said, MTV has my back today.”

“M-maybe your dad called them,” Evan jokes. “Was just like ‘hey, my kid is sick, wanna cheer him up by playing a bunch of emo shit?’”

Connor rolls his eyes. “Right. Like he’d do that.”

“Hey, rich people do all sorts of weird stuff,” Evan points out. He hesitates for a moment before continuing. “Plus, like… it’s obvious that your dad loves you. Like, a whole lot. He…” Evan blinks, then continues. “I know you said it wasn’t always like this and he’s being, like, weird TV dad now, but… maybe that isn’t so bad.”

Connor’s face twists a little. Softens, almost. 

“Yeah,” he says after a minute. “It’s not bad at all.”

Connor legitimately starts to laugh when the next video starts playing. It takes a moment for Evan to figure out why, but then it clicks. 

“Wait, is this song about  _ Snakes on a Plane _ ?”

“Yes it is,” says Connor, grinning so wide. “It is. So fucking stupid, I love it so much.”

The guy with the guitar case looks familiar. 

“Is that…”

“Yeah, that’s William Beckett again,” Connor says with a nod. “He did vocals for this one?” He nods again. Smiles. “It’s so cool that all these bands are in each other’s videos. I’m pretty sure there’s a Pete Wentz cameo in this video.”

This guy really looks like Connor. Like, a lot. It’s even more noticeable now that he’s not dressed as a fancy vampire. He’s all skinny jeans and long legs and long hair and cheekbones and it’s…

The blonde chick is not wearing a bra. That’s a very short skirt. She has extremely nice legs. 

William Beckett is basically all leg. All angles. He’s got sharp shoulders, too. 

That skirt is fucking tiny. And she’s absolutely not wearing a bra, which seems to be the point. 

Distracting the security guard so they can get their snakes on the plane. 

It is just. A lot. 

“Pete Wentz!” Connor exclaims, and sure enough, it is indeed Pete Wentz. 

William Beckett is still sitting in the departure lounge. Connor sits with one leg slung over the other like that sometimes. There are just... a whole lot of angles. 

As the guy with the afro and piercings raps in an airline staff uniform, Evan finds himself thinking about how much Connor hates geometry. He really needs to stop mouthing off in trig, he’s gotten so many detentions. 

Wow, that girl has a very tanned leg. 

Not as long as William Beckett’s leg, though. 

“Is that Samuel L. Jackson?” Evan asks stupidly. 

Connor laughs. “This video is nuts. It’s just, like, three minutes of blatant disregard for proper airport security.”

“So if his guitar case is full of snakes,” Evan says as they finally board the plane, “where’s his guitar?”

“You’re overthinking things,” Connor teases gently. “Just sit back and enjoy the Swedish chick’s lack of a bra in that jumpsuit.” 

“She’s Swedish?”

“Yeah, she’s from a band called The Sounds? I can’t remember her name, though, because it’s… Swedish.”

“Right,” says Evan. He’s not wrong, she’s definitely not wearing a bra, and that’s definitely distracting. 

Weirdly, it’s less distracting than William Beckett’s legs. 

That’s…

_ Nope, _ he tells himself.  _ Not dealing with that right now. Not while you’re literally in bed with a dude.  _

“That’s a jumpsuit?” Evan asks, like an idiot. “So it’s like, one piece?”

Connor shrugs. Looks a little embarrassed. “I’m not, like, a fashion gay, but I do know  _ some  _ stuff.”

“Right,” Evan says, nodding to himself. 

The next video starts and Connor lets out a dramatic sigh. “Nooooooooooo,” he whines. “MTV, you were doing so well.”

Evan doesn’t know this song, really, but Connor seems personally offended and launches into a commentary about how the song is terrible and these Buckingham Palace security guards are just trying to do their jobs and “that’s not even the London Bridge, that’s the fucking  _ Tower  _ Bridge.”

At one point in the video, Fergie is wearing a bowler hat. 

Evan can’t help but think that William Beckett wore it better. 

* * *

Connor was pretty determined to actually get his paper started today, but it just doesn’t happen. His head is killing him and he can hardly stay awake as the day turns to night. Heidi checks in on them. Connor’s fever seems stubbornly high, but Evan’s has gone down a lot. He keeps giving Connor these worried looks that Connor doesn’t know how to unpack. 

He wakes up in the middle of the night shivering. 

He’s totally freezing but soaked in sweat. 

“You alright?”

Evan’s lying beside him, his voice scratchy with sleep. 

“C-cold,” Connor manages to say. He’s shivering hard. 

Evan blinks a couple of times. Gets out of the bed. Connor barely holds back a whine of protest. He doesn’t want Evan to go he wants him to stay. 

But Evan’s back a moment later with another blanket. He covers Connor with it and climbs back into bed. 

“You’re really shaking,” Evan says, sounding concerned. 

Connor shivers out an apology. “I c-can sleep on the couch…”

But Evan instead presses a hand to Connor’s forehead. Frowns. “I think your fever’s breaking.” 

Connor nods. He knows that’s objectively a good thing but he can’t stop shivering. His teeth clack together and he feels like his veins have been filled up with ice. He isn’t really here. 

He’s not really here. 

He’s in a hospital and it smells like antiseptic and the room is cold and his face is smeared with charcoal and he has to take a shower before Zoe sees him like this. 

“Hey, hey, you’re okay,” A voice says close to his ear. A voice accompanied by warm hands rubbing his arms, telling him he’s safe. 

He’s not safe. He’s not safe because he’s not safe from himself and his dad’s gonna be so mad at him for fucking up again, Evan’ll be upset because he wanted Connor to promise…

But then it slips away and it’s just Connor and Evan in the pool house again. Evan’s wrapped himself tightly around Connor and Connor’s so cold that he can’t even bring himself to try to extract himself. 

He sleeps more. 

When he wakes up in the morning, Heidi is bringing them tea and smoothies. Saying she needs to get back to work but that they should take their temperatures every few hours and text her and Larry. 

“Try to get some rest today, guys, I’m serious,” Heidi says. She presses a kiss to Evan’s cheek. It’s such a mom-like move that Connor feels his heart leap for his friend. 

Evan needs someone to be his fucking mom. 

Heidi promises she will bring them home dinner and says Connor’s dad is in charge of lunch. 

And then they’re alone again. 

Evan’s hair is wild and sticking up in places, but he looks a lot better than he has. Less pale. 

“I think I might shower?” He says. “I feel sort of gross.”

Connor nods, saying maybe he’ll shower after.

But he ends up falling back asleep before Evan emerges. When he next opens his eyes, Evan’s wearing clean pajamas and is sitting wrapped up in a spare blanket in bed. He’s working on an English assignment. 

Connor sits up and looks at him. “Hey.” 

“Hey.” Evan bites his lip. “Can I… J-just…. I w-wanna say something.”

Connor feels his heart sinking. “Okay?”

“N-not sitting together at lunch? Sucks,” Evan says. He looks like he’s been chewing on this one for a while. “It’s… bullshit? P-people already th-think I’m gay so-so sitting with you w-won’t like -”

“You’re right,” Connor says with a sigh. He feels like shit. Like such a fucking asshole. “You’re totally right… I was just. Being a dick. I’m sorry.” He sighs. “If you want me to, I’ll… I’ll sit with you again.” 

Evan looks at Connor strangely. “Of course I want you to.” 

Connor can’t explain how that “of course” isn’t something he can take for granted. How he’s still preparing at every turn for Evan to change his mind about him, or tell him he’s moving to D.C., or just take off one day with a backpack full of cash. 

Connor’s been bracing himself for Evan to leave because Evan is… too good to be true. 

“No I’m not.”

_ Fuck.  _

Connor didn’t mean to say that out loud. 

“Y-you kind of are though,” Connor says. “Sometimes I worry that I got so desperate that I conjured up an imaginary friend. Nobody’s… nobody’s ever wanted to stick around before.”

Evan tilts his head slightly. “Yeah. F-for me either.” 

They just sit with that for a while. Until Connor starts shivering again and announces he’s definitely taking a shower. 

Evan’s cheeks go pink at Connor’s mention of that. Connor’s not sure why. 

He showers but takes his time, letting the steam get into his lungs. He washes his gross sweaty hair and his sticky and sort of smelly body. Gets out and pulls on fresh sweats and a thick hoodie. He’s still shivering a little, but he feels a lot warmer. 

Evan’s looking at him when he gets back. 

“What?”

Evan smiles slightly. “Your hair is like… really long.”

Connor shrugs. 

“Why’d you grow it out?”

Connor smiles a little. “I didn’t like. Decide to? I just didn’t have anywhere to get it cut at boarding school… and then I just. Kinda liked it long? I dunno.” 

“I like it too,” Evan says softly. “It suits you.”

Connor smiles. 

“Wanna watch MTV?”

Connor agrees. 

Ends up passing out in the middle of a video for Usher. 

Wakes up smiling to see that Evan’s done the same. 

* * *

While Evan’s not thrilled that Connor managed to get himself sick, he’s glad he has company. Glad to see Connor, glad to spend time with him. 

It’s just… good. 

They watch a lot of MTV and Heidi rents them DVDs and they spend a lot of time just existing in each other’s presence. 

It’s really good. 

A lot of the time growing up Evan was super lonely, which he always thought was weird because in foster care and group homes he was usually surrounded by people. Privacy and time to himself wasn’t something he got a lot of. 

It’s weird to feel lonely when you’re surrounded by people. 

This is kind of… the opposite, in some ways. Being around Connor isn’t stressful or draining like being around people can be sometimes. He doesn’t have to pretend, he doesn’t have to lie, he doesn’t have to be super careful of what he says or does, he just gets to let his guard down and… be. 

But he’s not alone. 

It’s nice to have someone he can just exist with. 

He’s missed Connor a lot. A whole lot. 

It becomes more and more obvious as their time in ‘quarantine’ passes just how much he’s missed Connor. Evan feels like he can breathe again. 

They spend the first few days in bed but by day three, they’re both feeling okay enough to move around a bit. Heidi bundles them both into her car and drives them to the beach house on day four, and while they don’t stay long, it’s nice to be outside. 

They end up spending almost an entire week together, recovering from the flu, but eventually, Connor has to go back home. They have to leave the pool house, which has become this weird little sanctuary. 

They have to go back to school. 

Evan’s not exactly looking forward to it, but he’s not dreading it as much as he had been, either. Especially after he worked up the courage to tell Connor that not having lunch with him is bullshit. 

When Evan gets back to his bedroom upstairs, the bed has been freshly made and the room’s been vacuumed and dusted. 

His backpack is sitting in his closet on top of the suitcase Heidi bought for him. 

He checks it to find that everything’s there. Nothing’s missing. 

There’s a knock. His door’s still open, and there’s Heidi in the doorway, something hesitant in her expression. 

“Can we talk, sweetheart?”

Evan feels his heart clench. He nods. 

Heidi comes and sits down on the edge of his bed. Evan sits next to her. 

She sighs a little. Smiles at him. 

“I’m not going to make you get rid of your backpack,” she says after a moment. “And I’m not going to take it away.”

Evan feels his cheeks burn. “It’s your money,” he mumbles. “You have every right-”

“It’s yours,” Heidi says firmly. “I gave you that money and I don’t expect it back.” She frowns a little, like she’s thinking carefully. “It makes sense to me. Why you’d have an escape plan.” 

Evan bites his lip. “I don’t want you t-to think that I’m not grateful for everything.”

“You just need to have options,” Heidi replies with a nod. “Something you can fall back on, so you don’t feel so trapped.” She nods a little more. Smiles sadly. “Sometimes having something you can fall back on makes it easier to deal with things. Makes it easier to power through when things are hard.” Her smile drops. “Connor said something about things being hard at school since your date with Zoe?”

Evan knows he’s beet red by now. “I, uh…” He swallows hard. Tries to figure out what to say. “P-p-people are s-saying that I’m g-gay,” he admits after a long moment. “B-b-b-because I…” He shrugs. Hunches over. Tries to make himself small. “Zoe’s m-more… experienced than me and I g-g-guess I… disappointed her?”

He’s trying to be diplomatic. 

To be vague. 

To not just admit flat out that Zoe wanted him to have sex with her and he couldn’t do it because it freaked him out too goddamn much. 

Heidi’s eyes widen in surprise, but only for a moment. Her face softens immediately. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry.”

Evan shrugs. “It’s not a b-b-big deal,” he lies miserably. “I j-just don’t…” He shrugs again. “I’d never even k-kissed a girl before Zoe and I… I p-probably fucked that up.” He screws up his face, regretting having said anything immediately. “Oh my god, I d-don’t think I can t-talk about this-”

“You don’t have to,” Heidi interrupts, like she’d rather not be hearing about it either. 

Fair enough. 

Heidi gives him a soft smile. “Can you tell me a little bit more about your escape plan?” she asks after a while. “What you’re planning?” Her smile drops. “I didn’t mean to snoop, but I saw Greyhound bus timetables. To… Idaho?”

Evan feels his chest tighten. “Yeah,” he mumbles. 

“Why Idaho?”

Evan shrugs. “Why not?” Heidi looks at him, and he sighs. Continues. “It’s not, like, super obvious or whatever, I guess? If I… if I wanted no one to find me.”

Heidi sighs. Puts her hand on his shoulder lightly. “Sweetheart, leaving the state could get you in a lot of trouble.”

Evan swallows hard. “I’d only go if I thought I had no other options,” he replies feebly. “If I thought…” He hangs his head. “I hated foster care,” he admits. “A lot. And it’d just be worse now. So much worse.”

Heidi’s eyes widen in alarm. “I would never put you back in foster care, Evan, I-”

“If I fucked it all up, you might not have a choice.”

Heidi’s quiet. 

She doesn’t argue. 

Because he’s right. 

She looks at him after a moment, something fierce in her eyes. “Even if you somehow did fuck up,” she says slowly, “I would fight for you. Okay, sweetheart? I would fight to keep you. Do absolutely everything I could to keep you with me.”

Evan feels that like a fist around his heart, squeezing tightly. 

He wants to believe her. He really does. He really, really, really fucking does. 

He just doesn’t know if he can. 

She sighs. Her shoulders sag a little. “But I understand having an escape plan,” she says again. She tilts her head a little. “In some ways, that’s what D.C. is for me.”

“Really?”

She nods. Smiles. “I like my job,” she confesses. “I like what I do. And while it might be nice to have real weather, I’d really miss the beach if I moved back east.”

Evan nods. “Me too. I like the beach a lot.” Heidi smiles bigger, and Evan continues, feeling kind of… encouraged. “Before I moved here, I’d only ever been to the beach once. It makes me feel kind of… peaceful? Being at the beach.”

“I see that,” she says. “I see it on your face, every time we’re there.” Her smile drops a little. She squeezes his shoulder. Takes a deep breath. “Honey, I wanted to talk about your mom.”

Evan tenses up immediately. “I didn’t mean for you to-”

“I know,” Heidi interrupts gently. “I know you didn’t mean for me to know, but… it’s good that I do.” She looks so sad. “That’s a huge thing to happen to you, Evan. Especially when you were so young.”

Evan can’t look at her. “It was a long time ago.”

“Maybe so,” Heidi concedes, “but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt.” She pauses for a moment. “Mr. Murphy gave me some recommendations,” she says after a while. “Of people you could talk to. Professionals.”

It’s like a punch in the gut. 

“I d-d-d-d-d-don’t-”

“Your mother killed herself, Evan,” Heidi says quietly. “That means you have a family history of mental illness. I really think that therapy would be helpful for you.”

Evan shakes his head. 

“I c-can’t.”

“You might find it really-”

“Are you g-going to k-k-k-kick me out if I d-don’t?” Evan demands shakily, looking at Heidi. 

Her face is pale. She looks devastated. “Of course not.”

“Then no,” he says immediately. “I c-can’t.”

“Can’t, or won’t?” she shoots back. 

Evan looks at the comforter on his bed. Tries to stop his hands from shaking. “Can’t,” he whispers after a while. “N-n-not now. Not… n-n-not yet.”

_ Not ever, _ he thinks, but he can’t say that. 

He owes it to Heidi to be normal. At least a little bit normal. 

She shouldn’t have to worry about him. Shouldn’t have to worry at all. 

Evan’s not his mom. Evan’s not going to…

He wouldn’t. 

He won’t. 

He just… won’t. 

* * *

Sabrina’s not even sure how it happens.

She’s just walking to her locker with Zoe and Madison when all of a sudden, there’s Michael Paterson, walking along with them. Smiling at her. Asking how her weekend was. 

Asking if she’s free on Friday night. 

Saying he’s got tickets to a French film in downtown LA.

“My dad knows the director,” he says, this slightly embarrassed smile on his face, like he knows that it’s cool to talk about his dad knowing film directors but also knows that bragging is, like, tacky. “He said I should go to this premier screening and I thought ‘hey, Sabrina takes French’, so… do you want to go with me?”

Sabrina just stares at him for a while. 

Madison clears her throat. Nudges her with a sharp elbow. 

“Uh, sure,” Sabrina chokes out. 

Michael grins widely. “Awesome,” he says. “Can I get your number? I can text you the details. We could grab dinner before the movie?”

“Sure,” says Sabrina again, and she gives Michael her number. 

Michael smiles even wider, texts her immediately, says he’ll talk to her soon then heads off to wherever he’s going next with this little wave that’s kind of adorable. 

Madison looks at Sabrina and squeals. “Oh my god.”

“Where did that come from?” Zoe asks, frowning a little. “Last I heard, you weren’t interested.”

“When did I say I wasn’t interested?” Sabrina asks, looking at Zoe challengingly. 

Zoe crosses her arms. Looks even more annoyed. “I said you should go out with Michael, like, weeks ago, oh my god.”

“He only  _ just  _ asked me out,” Sabrina points out. 

Madison grins. “Hope that’s not a sign that he’s a fag like Evan,” she says smarmily. “He took for-fucking-ever to ask Murph out and we know how  _ that  _ turned out.”

Zoe’s face goes bright red. 

“Maddie, come on,” Sabrina says. It’s not cool of her to keep bringing it up. 

Not cool of anyone, really. 

Sabrina feels more than a little bad for Evan, she has to admit. She doesn’t  _ want  _ to. She keeps trying to ask Zoe if there was more to it, if he did something or said something, if he was a creep or whatever, but she doesn’t want to talk about it. 

Sabrina keeps remembering what Evan said that night. 

_ “It’s a big deal for me to be vulnerable with someone.” _

That’s…

That’s fair, damn it. It’s fucking  _ reasonable  _ to feel that way. 

It’s just… not something that Sabrina’s ever thought about for, like, guys. Guys are supposed to want sex. It’s weird to think that Evan just… doesn’t. Or isn’t ready. 

He  _ could  _ be gay, Sabrina supposes. It could be true. 

Everyone’s saying it. She’s seen the word FAG written on his locker at least three times now. 

It sat there for a few days when he was off sick. No one seemed to be doing anything about it. Sabrina finally caved when she wasn’t with Madison and Zoe, and the halls were empty, and she washed it off with some hand sanitizer while no one was looking. 

She wants to hate Evan. There’s a part of her that is just… super pissed at him for hurting Zoe, for upsetting Zoe so much. But...

_ “It’s a big deal for me to be vulnerable with someone.” _

She wishes he hadn’t fucking said that. It would be so much easier if he were just an asshole. 

“We’ll have to go shopping,” Madison decides, looping her arm through Sabrina’s. “Obviously we won’t be able to find anything designer, because you won’t fit, but I’m sure we can find something.”

“I don’t really have time before Friday?” Sabrina says. It’s clearly the wrong thing to say, because Madison immediately lets go of her arm. Her cheeks flush a little. 

“Whatever. I don’t want anyone seeing me shopping at  _ Dress Barn _ anyway.”

Sabrina tries not to take that personally. 

Zoe’s still frowning. 

She doesn’t seem thrilled about this. Maybe she… 

No. 

_ No,  _ Sabrina tells herself wearily.  _ Don’t do that to yourself. _

She’s always found it hard having a best friend whose best friend wasn’t you. Zoe’s her favorite person to hang out, has been since they became friends, but Sabrina isn’t stupid. She knows that she’s not  _ Zoe’s  _ favorite person. 

This is worse. 

It’s worse to be in love with your best friend whose best friend isn’t you. Who you make out with regularly, fool around with. Who insists that you’re just having fun, just practicing.

_ “You know it doesn’t count. You and me. It… it doesn’t count.” _

“Michael’s nice,” Sabrina says to Zoe, a little pathetically. “We talked a bit at Jared Kleinman’s party. He’s… he’s nice.”

“He totally dated that German exchange student last year,” Maddie says. “The one who looked like a walrus? So we know that he’s into big girls.”

Sabrina flinches. Zoe glares at Maddie. 

“Shut the fuck up.”

Maddie raises her hands in protest. “I’m just pointing out facts,” she says innocently. “He clearly has, like, a type or whatever.”

Zoe’s glare gets even more intense. “You’re being such a goddamn bitch. I don’t see anyone asking  _ you  _ out.”

Madison’s nostrils flare in annoyance. She flips her long blonde hair over her shoulders. “That’s because I’m what they call  _ intimidatingly  _ hot. The two of you are more… approachable.” She smiles this obnoxious smile. “It’s not a bad thing, being approachable. I just wouldn’t know what it feels like.”

For a moment, Sabrina’s sure that Zoe’s going to, like, punch Madison in the face. 

But then the bell rings and the moment passes. 

By the time they’re all hanging out after school, the conversation seems forgotten. 

On Friday night, Zoe offers to help Sabrina get ready for her date. Sabrina wants to say no. Knows she should say no. But she doesn’t, like the idiot she is. 

They don’t do a lot of getting ready. Not really. Zoe offers to re-straighten her hair, but before the flat iron’s even heated up, they’re making out. 

There’s something almost desperate in the way Zoe’s kissing her. 

Like she’s trying to tell Sabrina she doesn’t want her to go. 

Like she…

_ Don’t,  _ Sabrina tells herself firmly as Zoe takes off her underwear.  _ Don’t let yourself go down that path, just enjoy this for what it is. No strings attached practice for the real thing. _

When they’re finished, Zoe tells her that her hair looks good when it’s wavy, anyway. 

“You look sexy like this,” she says with a smile. Her smile fades a little. “Michael’s not gonna know what hit him.” 

“You think?”

Zoe nods. “Yeah.” She fixes Sabrina with a look. “Okay, so if it’s terrible and you need to bail, text me SOS and I’ll call with, like, some emergency or whatever. Alright?”

“You think it’s gonna be that bad?”

Zoe hesitates. Bites her lip. 

It’s.

Intensely distracting. 

“I want it to be good,” she says, in this weird tone that Sabrina can’t quite understand but feels like she doesn’t believe. “I want you to have a good date. You deserve it.” She gives this sad little shrug. “Can’t be worse than what happened with Evan.”

“I’m sorry,” Sabrina says with a frown. “It must, like, totally suck for me to be going on a date when you and Evan-”

“It’s totally fine,” Zoe interrupts. She juts her chin out determinedly. “I’m totally over it.”

Given the way she’s still staring daggers at Evan and Connor whenever she sees them, Sabrina doubts it very much. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "The Phrase That Pays" by The Academy Is...


	36. You Should’ve Been, I Could Have Been A Better Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan, Connor, and a road trip to the cemetery.

Evan dreams about his mom that week. 

It’s nice, mostly. He dreams about her making latkes. Dreams about how they used to have picnics on the living room floor. Dreams about her happy and smiling and alive. 

Sometimes he finds himself dreaming about the not so happy parts, but mostly…

Mostly, it’s nice. 

It takes a bit of time, catching up on all the school he missed while he was sick, but school itself is easier because Connor’s eating lunch with him again. 

Actually eating, too, which Evan is so fucking happy to see. He doesn’t find it easy, that much is obvious, but he’s doing his best, and Evan’s really grateful that he’s trying. 

People are still calling him a fag and now that he and Connor are back to eating lunch together, there are jokes that they’re dating. 

Zoe stares daggers at him through study hall, but he’s not going to pay attention to that. 

She’s not worth it. 

Turns out she  _ is  _ just another shallow, self-obsessed, bitchy Orange County debutante. 

And he’s still pissed at her for calling Connor Quitter, for the way she treats Connor in general. When he tries to express this to Connor, his friend goes a little pale and says that Evan doesn’t have siblings so it’s hard to explain. 

And sure, he doesn’t have siblings, but he’s pretty fucking sure your siblings shouldn’t make be making fun of your suicide attempt. 

It just… sucks. To realize he’d been wrong about Zoe. 

Wrong when he thought there was something more to her than the beautiful blonde party girl she presented to the world. 

_ You see what you want to see,  _ the voice in his head reminds him.  _ And it’s not like you were honest with her, either. Suck it up. _

Evan dreams about his seventh birthday and a bright red, second-hand bicycle. His mom had been so excited about it. She’d put a big blue bow on it and brought it into the house early in the morning so it was there when he woke up. 

His mom promised they could go on bike rides together once Evan learned. There was a place nearby where you could rent bicycles. His mom had told him that she loved bike riding and couldn’t wait to share it with him. 

She’d lost her job not long after that and things had gotten bad. 

She’d tried her hardest to get a new job and she’d found some temporary things, but nothing lasted. He’d hear her crying late at night a lot. Some days she just… wouldn’t get out of bed. 

He wakes up the next morning and can’t get it out of his head. Can’t stop thinking about her. Connor seems to notice how distracted he is, but he doesn’t say anything, just buys him a cinnamon roll at Starbucks and smiles a little tentatively. 

They spent so much time being honest with each other while they were sick that Evan kind of feels like they’re both… a little raw. Exposed. They’re more careful with each other, but not in a… hiding way. 

Just… gentler. 

It means something, Evan thinks, he just… isn’t sure what. 

_ You just aren’t used to having friends,  _ this voice in his head reminds him.  _ You’re going to fuck it up. _

Unless he doesn’t. 

He might not. 

Connor suggests they stop for a smoothie on the way home, and Evan agrees. Heidi texts to say she’ll be working late, full of apologies, and Evan suggests that they have the smoothies at the beach house. 

“It’s been ages since we were at the beach house together,” Evan points out. 

Something strange flashes in Connor’s eyes. He smiles. “I’d like that, yeah.”

They sit on the beach itself and drink their smoothies, watching the sun over the horizon, late afternoon sun shining brightly. It makes the ocean sparkle. 

A thought occurs to Evan. 

“Did you ever get officially ungrounded?” he asks. 

Connor laughs. “Nope,” he says cheerfully. “I think it just… kind of ran its course, I don’t know.”

Evan doesn’t know why he says what he does next, but the words spill out of his mouth anyway. “Do you think you could drive me somewhere tomorrow?”

Connor turns to look at him, his face open and happy. “Sure,” he says. “I’ll take you anywhere you wanna go.”

Part of Evan wants to look away, but he doesn’t. He locks eyes with Connor. 

“I want to go visit my mom,” he says quietly. “Her grave, I mean. I haven’t…” He shrugs. Feels his stomach churn. “I know where it is, but I haven’t visited her since the funeral.”

Connor’s eyes widen a little. His face twists unhappily. “Of course,” he says quietly. “I can drive you there.”

Evan knows he shouldn’t be asking this, but he does it anyway. “I know cemeteries are kind of morbid and totally not where you want to be hanging out on the weekend, but… I don’t know if I can do it by myself? Could you…”

Connor’s whole face softens. “Yeah,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “Of course. Whatever you need, Evan.”

“Thank you,” Evan replies quietly. 

Connor looks at him and blinks. His mouth quirks into a small smile. “Who said I don’t want to hang out in cemeteries? I want names.”

Evan can’t help but laugh. “Oh my god.”

“I think hanging out in a cemetery would be very on brand for me,” Connor continues with an even bigger smile. “I’ll wear eyeliner. Maybe a top hat.”

“Or a full on black veil,” Evan chimes in. 

“Obviously,” Connor replies, fully grinning now. “How long do you think it would take to train a raven to follow me around?”

“Longer than we have,” Evan shoots back. “Where the fuck are you going to find a raven, anyway?”

“I have my ways,” says Connor with a wiggle of his eyebrows, and Evan properly laughs now. Connor laughs, too, and when the laughter dies out he looks at Evan significantly. “You know I’d do anything for you, right?”

Something twists painfully in Evan’s chest. 

He wants to tell Connor not to say things he doesn’t mean. Not to lie. 

But he’s looking at Connor and thinks that maybe he means it. 

That’s…

No one’s ever said that to him before. 

“As long as you don’t steal a car,” Evan quips, and Connor smiles this big smile, and Evan feels like everything might be okay. 

* * *

Michael’s a perfect gentleman the whole night. 

He’s smart. He’s funny. He’s considerate. 

Comes to pick her up. Introduces himself to Sabrina’s parents and promises to have her home by midnight. 

Her dad makes some kind of dumb joke and he laughs and makes one back. 

Her mom asks after his mom. Apparently they know each other tangentially. 

Sabrina knows her mom well enough to know that she wouldn’t ask after someone who wasn’t worth asking after. That must mean Michael passes. 

For some reason, that makes her feel kind of weird. 

Michael offers to pay for dinner, but doesn’t assume. Doesn’t just pay without asking, actually checks in to see if she’s okay with it. Leaves a big tip for the waiter. 

Sabrina likes that. She likes it when people tip well. 

If people are going to work in hospitality around the entitled assholes who live here, they deserve to get well tipped. 

The film is… terrible. Legitimately terrible. First off, it’s clear after maybe five minutes that none of the actors are French at all, it’s just… in French for artistic reasons or whatever.

There are also, like, a lot of boobs. 

So many boobs. 

Sabrina feels her cheeks getting pinker and pinker at all the boobs. Michael seems uncomfortable and asks if she wants to just leave, but she shakes her head. 

Leaving in the middle of a film would be super rude. 

And also, like… 

She doesn’t mind the boobs. She’s got boobs, it’s not weird to be looking at boobs. 

She’s seen plenty of Zoe’s boobs, too. 

Zoe’s boobs are just… perfectly shaped. They’re a little big for Sabrina’s hands and they’re soft to the touch. 

Evan’s got big hands, Sabrina thinks suddenly. He could probably fit Zoe’s whole boob in one hand. It probably works out super well. 

Obviously, not that well seeing as Evan wouldn’t fuck her, but…

Zoe had said that he’d touched her boobs, so he’s clearly not, like, dead. 

There are some nice boobs in this film. 

Classic, black and white boobs. 

The film’s in black and white for no goddamn reason. 

Sabrina doesn’t think there’s any kind of plot. She’s heard the word ‘ennui’ seventeen times. 

She’s counting. 

When the film is finally over, Michael looks super embarrassed. “If you wanna meet the director-”

“Not particularly,” she confesses. 

Michael lets out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank god, I don't even know what I’d say.”

“I mean, I’ve definitely got questions,” Sabrina says with a smile, “but I don’t know if I’m ready for the answers.” 

Michael laughs. Puts an arm around her shoulder as they leave the theatre. 

It’s… nice. 

She guesses. 

It’s okay. It’s all okay and fine and…

He’s nice. 

When Michael drops her home, he walks her to the front door. It’s all very teen rom-com. 

“I had a really good time tonight,” he says, sounding a little nervous but sincere. “Maybe we could do this again sometime? With a less weird movie?”

Sabrina laughs. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Then he kisses her goodnight. 

It’s… nice. 

On the scale of the best kiss she’s ever had to the worst, it’s somewhere in the middle. Definitely better than that guy from the resort. He’d been sloppy as fuck. 

Michael isn’t, like, slobbering all over her. He knows what he’s doing. 

His lips aren't as soft as Zoe’s. 

It’s… nice. 

Not earth-shattering, not amazing, not terrifying and incredible like kissing Zoe, but it’s nice. 

Sabrina can deal with nice, she thinks. 

* * *

Connor keeps his word. When he picks Evan up the next day, he is wearing eyeliner and this dumb black blazer his mom bought for him last year that he’s barely ever worn. She thought he might need a coat for events at Hanover which weren’t strictly formal. Connor didn’t. That implied he actually got invited to stuff at Hanover. 

He only ever wore it once. To church with M’s family when Connor went home with him for Easter. 

He still knew most of the church words. Catholicism seems to be the same no matter where you are. 

Part of the Mass was in Spanish, of course, but even that felt familiar somehow. 

Anyway this is a better occasion for this dumb blazer. He’s in all black. A Fall Out Boy shirt. Black jeans with one knee torn from when Connor wiped out on his skateboard again around Christmas. He got dizzy. Passed out. Embarrassing. 

He also wore his boots for maximum emo-piece-of-shit-ness. 

Evan laughs happily when he sees Connor. 

“What? Did you think I’d joke about this?”

“Wh-where’s your raven?”

Connor wrinkles his nose. “My raven guy’s in Palm Springs for the weekend.”

“Shame, that,” Evan laughs. 

He seems good today. Healthy, sure, but also just. Good. Lighter somehow. 

Connor’s so fucking glad. 

He’s so glad. He always wants Evan to be okay. 

They make a quick pit stop at Starbucks.

Back in the car, Evan picks the music when Connor hands over his iPod. Evan smiles and puts on some Fall Out Boy. 

“Their new album comes out on Tuesday,” Connor says conversationally. 

“I h-heard one of the new songs?” Evan says. “The one about the… arms race? I think that’s what they’re saying.” He laughs lightly. “I never know what the singer is  _ saying. _ ”

Connor laughs. “You know it’s kind of on purpose, right? Like he intentionally doesn’t like. Annunciate or whatever?” He smiles. “Because they’re too punk rock for diction or whatever.”

“You’re such a  _ dork,  _ oh my god, of  _ course  _ you know that.”

Connor shrugs. Yeah. Of course he knows that. 

“We should listen to it,” Evan says. “When it comes out. The new album.”

“Yeah?” Connor says. 

“Totally. We’ll make it l-like Fall Out Boy Day or whatever.”

Connor smiles hugely. “Cool.”

They keep driving. Evan gives directions once Connor gets off the highway. 

Evan’s not really smiling as much anymore. He glances over at Connor, frowning. “I should. Bring something, shouldn’t I? I h-haven’t been th-there in years. I-I can’t show up empty-handed.”

Connor frowns to himself. They pull off at a grocery store. Evan and Connor head inside, toward the section with all of the flowers. “What kind of flowers did she like?” Connor asks Evan when he just sort of stares at the floral options. It’s cold in the store. They’re both shivering. 

“I don’t know,” Evan says quietly. “We didn’t h-have a lot of money? It’s not like. Like we h-had cash for flowers a lot.”

Connor nods. Gently sets his hand on Evan’s shoulder. He doesn’t shrug Connor off, which is what Connor expects. He just stares ahead. 

After a few minutes. “Well. What kind do  _ you  _ like?” He asks. 

Evan shrugs. “I dunno. N-never really thought about it.”

Connor nods. Looks over the collection of flowers. There’s a lot of roses. And daisies. Carnations. Peonies. Orchids, even, which Connor is surprised by because those are a pain in the ass to grow. Lilies and calla lilies. (He blames his mother for him knowing so much about fucking  _ flowers _ . She did a lot of event planning when he was younger. No wonder he’s fucking gay.) 

Evan sighs. It’s a little shaky. “Are these okay?” He asks. He points to some sunflowers. Huge and bright yellow and… perfect. 

“Yeah,” Connor tells him. 

He would have said yes to anything Evan picked. He knows this can’t be easy. 

Evan grabs the sunflowers. Inspects then carefully. They head off to pay and Connor throws down some cash before Evan can even get out his wallet. 

“You don’t have to-”

Connor smiles sadly. “It’s the first time I’m meeting her. I need to make a good first impression.”

Evan’s eyes widen. But he doesn’t argue more. 

They drive in silence the rest of the way to the cemetery. It takes them a while to actually find Evan’s mom. He keeps apologizing, saying he hasn’t been here since he was little. 

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

Connor keeps his eyes focused on the headstones. Reads them as they walk. He doesn’t get too close to them, fearing it might be rude to walk over someone’s grave. 

There’s not a lot of flowers here, Connor notices with a frown. 

He doesn’t mention it. 

Maybe people here don’t get a lot of visitors. 

Connor morbidly knows that his parents have already bought burial plots. In this big fancy cemetery just outside of Newport. They have them for themselves, but also the plots nearby. Not far from where David is buried. Connor’s never been to David’s grave but… he knows where it is. Ish. Knows which cemetery at least. 

Because his parents bought one for him too. 

He overheard them talking about it when he was in the hospital freshman year. 

Technically, Zoe has one too. And they bought two more, for when Zoe and Connor get married someday. 

Connor feels a little guilty that they wasted the money. Gay people can’t get married. 

He overheard his mom saying she wasn’t ready to leave Connor there. When he first woke up. 

Because he was expected to die. Not to wake up. 

His dad managed to get him to the hospital in the nick of time, apparently. 

He ended up with this gross thing called aspiration pneumonia. From choking on his own puke. He had to stay in the hospital for a bit while they treated him for it.

It was super disgusting. Definitely a vote against ever almost choking to death on his own puke again. 

Connor blinks. Evan’s stopped walking. 

“She’s here,” he says softly. 

Connor joins him in front of the grave. Reaches out and puts his hand on his shoulder. Squeezes tightly as he looks down. 

_ Margaret Hansen.  _

Below are her birth and death dates. 

Something in Hebrew. 

Evan takes a breath. 

* * *

Evan wishes he could read Hebrew. 

Wishes he knew what it said on his mother’s grave. 

It’s… bullshit. It’s complete bullshit that he’s got no idea what’s written there. 

No idea what it says. 

He was seven when they buried her. Seven. 

His mom tried to teach him some basic Hebrew when he was little, but they’d mostly focused on English. He struggled with his reading when he first started school, at the beginning. He loved stories but found it hard to recognize letters. That combined with his stutter and his crippling shyness had resulted in his kindergarten and first-grade teachers telling his mom that he likely had a learning disability. 

He remembers one of his teachers talking to his mom about speech therapy. Giving her pamphlets and information, telling her how she thought it would really help him. 

His mom had cried for hours that night. 

Not gotten out of bed the next morning. He’d had to walk himself to school.

He knows Connor’s going to ask. What it says on his mother’s grave. 

And he won’t be able to answer. 

“I can’t read Hebrew,” he confesses quietly. “I d-don’t know what this says, I…”

Connor nods. Pulls out his phone. 

Bends down and takes a picture, focusing on the writing, making sure it’s as clear as it can be. 

Then he stands up and shows it to Evan. It’s a pretty good photo, really. Way better than anything Evan could have taken on his phone. 

Not that his phone is shit or anything, it’s just not as fancy as Connor’s. 

Connor and Zoe have the same phone, Evan notices suddenly. 

Probably best not to mention it. 

“We can ask Heidi?” Connor says quietly. “When we get back to Newport. She can translate it, maybe?”

Evan nods. Smiles at Connor a little. “Thank you.”

He looks back at his mom’s grave. It’s smaller than he remembers. 

When he was little, it seemed so big. Big and scary and cold and… wrong. Not how it should be. His mom was always warm. 

She liked the sunshine. 

Evan sits down in front of his mom’s grave. Puts the sunflowers down carefully. 

Connor sits down next to him, his long legs folded like a pretzel. 

“Hi,” Evan says awkwardly. “Hi Mom. I’m sorry it’s been… ages. I d-didn’t… I didn’t have a way to get here before? It’s a dumb excuse, I know, but… I wanted to. I really did.”

Connor puts his hand on Evan’s shoulder and squeezes it.

It’s equal parts comforting and heartbreaking. 

“This is Connor,” Evan continues quietly, focusing all of his attention on the words in Hebrew he doesn’t understand. “He’s my best friend. You’d like him, he’s… he’s the best friend I’ve ever had, Mom, and he makes me feel like I’m not alone. And he…” Evan swallows hard. “He knows how you felt. He understands what happened to you, better than I do, and I…” 

He bites his lip. 

He’s crying, he realizes. He hadn’t even noticed. 

“I miss you all the time,” he manages to say, and then he’s completely losing it, crying so hard he can’t speak, can’t see, and Connor’s pulling him into a tight hug, rubbing circles on his back and telling him it’s okay. 

That it’s okay to cry. 

And that kind of breaks him a little, makes it all worse because in his head he knows that it makes fucking sense to be crying at his mother’s grave but still, somehow, he feels like he shouldn’t be, he feels like he’s wrong, like it’s wrong, like he never gets anything right. 

Connor keeps holding onto him. 

Keeps rubbing his back. 

Evan’s exhausted. 

He finally pulls away reluctantly and looks back at his mom’s grave. 

Puts his hand tentatively on the stone. 

It’s warm, he’s surprised to find. 

He  _ shouldn’t  _ be surprised, he realizes after a moment. It’s a nice day, it will have absorbed heat from the sun. 

That’s the logical explanation. The factual explanation. 

But there’s a part of him that likes to think it’s warm because his mom is pleased to see him. Is happy that he’s here. 

He always loved seeing her happy. 

“My mom took me to the beach,” he tells Connor quietly. “A month before I turned eight? It w-wasn’t, like, the best beach weather, but it was nice. There was a boardwalk and we got hot dogs. Well, veggie dogs, because the guy selling the hot dogs couldn’t tell Mom whether there was pork in them.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Evan sees Connor nod. “Makes sense.”

“And we even got the guy to put cheese on them,” Evan continues, “because they were vegetarian? We don’t do, like, meat and dairy together.”

“Because you’re Jewish.”

“Because we’re Jewish.” Evan looks at his mom’s grave and continues. “We played some dumb games? For hours. We must have spent, like, way too much money, oh my god, but Mom won me this stuffed monkey. He had these long arms and I could kind of… wear him like a backpack, like he was giving me a hug.” He smiles a little at the memory. He’d clung to that thing like a lifeline those first few months. “Mom said I should name him Alexander, so I did. It means… defender or guardian, I think. I looked it up once.”

“Good name,” says Connor quietly. He’s tense, frowning, like he’s expecting this story to go horribly wrong. 

Evan’s so fucking predictable. 

“I was so exhausted,” he continues. “It was just a really great day. We took a bus there and back, and it was, like, at least an hour each way, and I was so excited about being on a bus, I was such a dumb kid, oh my god.”

“That’s not dumb,” Connor says gently. “It’s not.”

Evan keeps his eyes locked on his mom’s grave. He can’t look at Connor for this next bit. 

“I used to sleep in my mom’s bed a lot when I was little. I’d have really bad nightmares most nights. So most of the time I’d wake up and crawl into bed with her and everything would be okay. But after such a big day, I slept through the night. For the first time in… ages, probably.” He blinks. He’s crying again, he realizes. “Looking back, I think she did that on purpose. Wore me out so I wouldn’t… so she could…”

Connor puts an arm around his shoulders. Leans his head against his shoulder. 

“I’m so sorry,” says Connor softly. “I am so fucking sorry.”

Evan knows Connor understands what he’s not saying. He knows. 

But he has to say it anyway. 

If Connor could tell him about freshman year, then Evan can tell him about this. 

“The next morning, I went to go wake her up, and she was cold. She wouldn’t wake up, no matter how much I tried, and she was so cold. And she didn’t… she didn’t  _ look  _ right. It d-didn’t f-f-feel right, l-l-l-like she w-w-w-wasn’t there…”

He takes a deep breath. Connor tightens his grip. 

Evan closes his eyes. Focuses on his breathing. 

In. 

Out. 

In. 

Out. 

“I w-went next door,” he says, wiping his face. “And t-told the next-door neighbor that my m-mom wouldn’t w-wake up and she…” He wipes his face again. “I don’t remember much after that, not really. I stayed with the neighbor for, like, a week maybe? B-but she was old and c-couldn’t keep me, and they c-couldn’t find my d-dad, so. Foster care.” 

He’s exhausted. 

Bone tired. 

But he feels a little better, having said it all out loud. 

“So that’s… that’s my s-sob story,” he jokes weakly. “S-sorry for bringing d-down the mood.”

* * *

“We’re  _ literally  _ in a cemetery,” Connor says quietly. “It’s not like it was cheerful to begin with.”

Evan ducks his head. 

Connor’s struck by the stupidest impulse to kiss his head. Try to bring some pathetic comfort to this situation. 

But he knows that’s wrong. 

So instead he squeezes Evan a little tighter. Takes a breath. “Thank you. For telling me.”

Evan nods. Wipes his eyes. 

“What happened to the monkey?” He asks stupidly. 

“What?”

“Alexander. What happened to him?”

Evan’s face falls. “S-some other kids r-ripped off his arms. One of my f-first foster homes.”

“Fuck,” Connor says. He wishes he hadn’t asked. “Sorry.” He glances at the headstone. Feels suddenly ashamed of himself for swearing in front of Evan’s mom. “Sorry,” he says in that direction. 

They sit there for a while. Connor has millions more questions for Evan. About his mom. About his life since she died. 

He doesn’t ask them. Now isn’t the time. 

Evan wipes his face eventually. Connor watches, weirdly fascinated, as he packs away all of this sadness. Connor hates it. Wants to shake him and tell him he never has to do that. Not in front of him. That he’s allowed to feel however he feels. Always. 

But Connor keeps his mouth shut. 

“Thank you,” Evan murmurs. “For bringing me here.”

“Of course,” Connor says. He means it. “Like I said. I’ll do anything for you. Except steal a car. But only since you told me not to.”

Evan laughs a little. It’s wet and sad and quiet. 

He reaches out and places his hand against the headstone one last time. “I’ll be back,” he says to it. “Promise. It won’t take me this long again.”

Connor smiles, awkward and sad, looking at Evan’s mom’s name. “It was nice meeting you,” he says softly. 

He finds himself thinking of more things he would say if he actually got to meet Margaret Hansen. 

_ Your son is the most wonderful person.  _

_ You missed out on how great he’s turned out to be.  _

_ Don’t worry. He’s not alone anymore. He’s got people who love him.  _

_ He’s got me. I love him.  _

They make their way back to Connor’s car. It’s a nice day. Sunny and warm. 

Evan’s still sniffling a little. Connor digs some old napkins out of his glove box and hands them to Evan. He blows his nose and smiles awkwardly. 

“So…” Connor says carefully. “This is where you’re from?”

Evan laughs almost. “Yeah, I grew up in a-a fucking  _ cemetery _ .”

“I mean, like. Chino. I haven’t been before.”

“Not a lot worth seeing,” Evan says darkly. “You’re not missing much.”

Connor frowns. “I want to see your places,” he says quietly. “Where did you hang out? Where did you live?”

Evan shakes his head. “You don’t. Trust me. You really don’t.”

But he really  _ does _ , is the thing. 

He wants to know everything about Evan. 

“Come on,” he wheedles a little. “We don’t need to like. Get out of the car if you don’t want. But I want to see your places. I want to see where you grew up.”

“Why?”

Connor shrugs. “I dunno. You’ve seen… all of my places, basically.”

“Haven’t seen your fancy boarding school,” Evan says, his eyebrows up. 

“I’d take you. If I was allowed back on the premises, I’d show it to you. Show you where I used to smoke weed and where I got drunk with some seniors and tried to climb the stone fence and ended up needing four stitches in my head because I fell off of it.”

Evan does laugh then. He seems looser now. Less guarded. 

“Fine. But we’re not getting out of the car, okay? I don’t want to talk to anyone here.”

Connor nods. “Seems fair.” He turns his stereo on, but keeps it quiet. “Where to first?”

They drive around for a bit. 

Evan takes them past his old high school. It’s a big building. Not like Harbor. It looks kind of foreboding. Like a prison. He tells Connor that they had to go through metal detectors on the way in every morning. “School was worried about g-guns.”

Connor thinks back to how Evan reacted to Jared calling him a school shooter on the first day of classes. Jesus, no fucking wonder. 

They keep driving. Evan points out this Jewish Community Center. Says he used to hang out there sometimes, bug the rabbi with lots of questions. 

Connor smiles. Evan’s such a nerd. He loves that. “That’s really cool.”

Evan ducks his head. “I barely know anything. I have to k-keep asking Heidi.”

Connor shrugs. “I don’t think that’s a bad thing. She told me once, when I was like twelve or something, that like. You’re supposed to ask questions. When you’re Jewish. It’s like. The point or whatever.”

Evan smiles a little bit brighter. 

“Where to next?” Connor asks. 

“The library,” Evan says. He nods to himself. Then looks at Connor. “We can probably go in. For that one.”

“Yeah?” Connor says. 

Evan nods. “The librarians were always nice to me.”

Connor grins at him. 

* * *

It feels weird, walking into the library with Connor. With anyone, really. 

He’s never come in here with anyone. 

There’s never been anyone to come with. 

Connor’s looking around, eyes wide, and Evan realizes that he’s probably never seen a library this pathetic before. When he sees Evan’s looking at him, he smiles a little sheepishly. 

“I love libraries,” Connor confesses. “When I was a kid, I spent so much time in them?”

Evan grins. Connor gets it. 

He gets it. 

“Me too. Obviously.” 

He makes his way through the familiar stacks, the familiar books. It’s exactly as he remembers it. Exactly the same. 

Angela, one of the librarians, is restacking books. She’s wearing that same yellow cardigan she always does. It makes Evan’s chest clench a little. 

Her eyes go big when she sees Evan and she smiles brightly. 

“Evan Hansen, I haven’t seen you in months! How are you, honey?”

“I’m good, Angela,” he says, hoping that his eyes aren’t too red, he doesn’t look like he’s been crying. “I, uh, I moved? It was kind of… kind of sudden, so that’s why I didn’t come in and say goodbye.”

Angela looks him up and down. “You look good,” she says after a moment. “Healthy. Not as pale. Where are you staying these days? Still with your dad?”

“No,” he says. “I, uh, I have a new guardian? We live in Orange County.”

Angela’s eyebrows go up to her hairline. “Orange County,” she says, sounding more than a little surprised at that. “Fancy.” She looks him up and down again and her whole face softens. “And she’s good to you? This guardian? It looks like she’s looking after you.”

“She is,” Evan says, feeling his cheeks turn pink. “She’s… Heidi’s great.”

Angela beams. It makes her eyes disappear into her cheeks. Evan’s always kind of liked that. “You deserve to be looked after,” she says determinedly. “Always have. You’re such a nice boy, you deserve the world.”

From the corner of his eye, Evan can see Connor nodding in agreement, this soft smile on his face. 

“This is my friend Connor,” Evan says, gesturing to him. “We, uh, we drove out here today to… t-to visit my mom? At the cemetery. And Connor wanted to see where I grew up.”

Angela smiles a little ruefully. “Not a lot to see around here, I’m afraid.”

“This is obviously the main attraction,” Connor says instantly. “Evan’s told me all about the library. How he came here all the time.”

“He did,” Angela says, and she looks a little sad but she’s still smiling. “Stayed here overnight sometimes, too. We were just happy he had somewhere he felt safe.”

Evan feels his face burn. 

Fuck. 

He’d been so careful.

“You kn-knew that I stayed here?”

Angela nods, her smile fading a little. “I can’t count the number of times we talked about one of us just taking you home so you could sleep somewhere more comfortable,” she admits quietly. “But we worried you might stop coming if we said anything. And we didn’t want to take that away from you.”

Connor’s wearing this expression Evan can’t read, can’t understand at all, and Evan’s just… so fucking embarrassed. 

So, so, so fucking embarrassed. 

Especially since he knows she’s right. If any of the librarians had said anything, he’d have just stopped showing up altogether. And that…

Wouldn’t have been great for him. 

That much he knows. 

“You were always k-kind to me,” he manages to choke out. “I appreciate it. A lot.”

Angela smiles. “You were easy to be kind to, Evan.”

Evan wants to argue because that’s… clearly not true. In his life, people showing him kindness have been few and far between. 

He and Connor walk around a bit. It’s not like there’s a lot to see. A lot to show off. But Evan knows this place well, knows it like the back of his hand, and everything’s still where it always was. 

He likes that. 

He likes being able to rely on that. 

They’re not there for long. At least, not as long as Evan usually spends in this library. Must be because he’s not actually looking for books to check out, to take home and read. 

A thought occurs to him. 

He has overdue books. 

He must have, he always had something checked out, he can’t remember what it is but he must have something. 

Fuck. 

Connor seems to notice something’s up. “Hey man, you okay?”

Evan nods, then heads to the counter where Angela is now at the computer. “I have overdue books,” he says urgently. “Right? I left in a hurry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Let me check,” says Angela soothingly, and she enters something into the computer. Looks at the screen. Frowns a little. “Sorry kid, you do,” she says apologetically. She frowns. “Do you know when you’re going to be in next? You could bring it back then.”

“What book is it?” Evan asks. 

“Moby Dick,” she says, reading off the screen. “You only had one book out, that’s unusual for you.”

Connor looks at Evan. “You don’t have a copy of Moby Dick on your bookshelf,” he says, frowning. “Did you leave it at your dad’s?”

Evan can basically feel the blood draining from his face. 

That’s…

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck, he should stop by and get it, but what if his dad is home, what if Elaine home, he can’t see them he can’t do it he can’t handle it he can’t he can’t he can’t-

“How much to replace the book?” Connor asks immediately. 

Evan shoots him a look. “Connor, no.”

Angela looks so sad. “It’s okay, you don’t need to...”

She trails off as Connor hands her a wad of $20 bills. 

That’s…

There’s no way the book costs that much, this is complete overkill, Connor is being absolutely fucking ridiculous. 

“I can’t take your money,” she says, shaking her head at Connor. “I-”

“Consider it a donation,” Connor interrupts. His cheeks go pink, so do the tips of his ears. “He’s not going back to his dad’s. Not ever.”

Angela’s eyes go wide. She looks at Connor with something like respect in her expression. Nods. 

Doesn’t take the money until Connor pushes it over the counter and it’s right by her. 

Part of Evan wants to tell Connor to stop being ridiculous, to stop throwing money around like some kind of rich asshole. 

But he owes this place so much. More than he can ever repay. And he might never see it again. He sees Connor every day. There’s plenty of time to, like, hide money in his car and pay him back for this. 

Part of Evan is embarrassed and a little annoyed, sure, but another part is just… overwhelmed. At Connor’s kindness. At how much he cares. 

“Thank you,” he says quietly. “Just… thank you.”

* * *

Connor’s face is still pretty warm as he and Evan head back to the car. Evan keeps thanking Connor. Saying he didn’t have to pay for his overdue book. 

Connor had to though. He had to do  _ something.  _

Evan climbs into the passenger seat and gives Connor a long hard look. 

“What?”

“You’re sure you… w-want to see my places?”

Connor nods. He does. He really does. He wants to see all of it. He wants to see everything. 

“We’re not getting out of the car for this one,” Evan says quietly. “And it’s probably… best if we don’t stop.”

Connor doesn’t argue. 

Evan gives him directions. A left. Then a right. 

One final turn down a street with a lot of cars parked on the side of the road. Crappy cars. There’s one with plastic covering the driver’s side window instead of glass. 

“Here,” Evan says. His voice is shaking. Thin. Quiet. 

“Here?” Connor asks, slowing down a little.

“Y-yeah,” Evan says. “This is… this is m-my dad’s place. Where I lived.”

Fuck. Connor struggles to keep his eyes on the road. 

There’s a cracked and broken asphalt parking lot next to the building. The outside has some rust stains blooming from cracks in the gutters. The front door has chipping paint. 

“I m-moved in when I was eleven,” Evan says quietly. “I r-remember being excited because… m-my dad said I’d h-have my own room?” He bites his lip. “Had to share a lot. In foster care.” 

Connor swallows hard. 

“Elaine and Ethan moved in later. So then we h-had to share.” He blinks. “We had bunk beds.”

Connor always wanted bunk beds as a kid. He and Zoe campaigned for them when they were five and six. Their parents said no. They had their own rooms. Why would they want to share? 

They drive past the building. 

Connor pulls over. Turns around. 

Evan’s face is pale. He’s breathing sort of unevenly. His hands are balled into fists. 

Connor reaches out. To grab Evan’s hand. 

Evan flinches. 

Connor draws his hand away. “I’m sorry.”

“I was. So stupid. When I moved in here. I thought… I thought it would be like. Like when my m-mom was still alive? That it. M-might not be perfect b-b-but that he’d t-take care of me… that he’d be…”

Connor nods. “I’m so sorry. I’m really… you weren’t stupid okay? You were a kid. A little kid. You deserved so much better than what that asshole gave you. You  _ deserve  _ to be taken care of. You deserve love and-and happiness and… Evan, you deserve  _ everything. _ ”

Evan takes a shaky breath. “Can we go? I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Okay. We’ll go.”

Connor pulls out onto one of the main streets. His car dings at him - low fuel. He needs to stop for gas. 

“I can try to push it until we’re out of Chino?” He says to Evan. 

“Don’t be stupid,” Evan replies. 

They pull off at the next gas station. Connor gets out to fill up the tank. 

“Want anything for the drive back?” He says, heading toward the convenience store attached to pay. 

Evan gets out of the car and follows him inside. Connor grabs himself a soda. Gets one for Evan. Connor seems to take Evan by surprise by turning down the aisle with all the candy. 

He grabs some Skittles. One of the king-sized Hersey’s Cookies ‘n Creme bars. Thinks about it and makes it two. Some Reese’s. 

All things he knows Evan likes. 

Evan’s watching him like he’s never seen Connor before. 

Connor takes their stuff to the counter. He mutters to Evan that he’s gonna buy cigarettes and Evan dutifully hangs back by a display of chips in case the cashier is a dick and wants to see both their I.D.s. 

Connor smiles at the lady behind the register as she rings him up. “I filled up on pump three,” he says. She punches it into the register. “Can I also get a pack of Pall Malls and a hard pack of Marlboro reds, please?”

“I.D.?” 

Connor produces his fake from his wallet. It’s a good fake. Has his real name and real birthday (just a different year). Says he’s from Wisconsin of all places, but it never gets questioned. 

It doesn’t today either. 

There are definitely some advantages to being a giant. 

The lady starts pulling down the smokes when Connor hears Evan take a sharp breath in from behind him. He hears Evan start stuttering, saying something Connor can’t quite catch as the lady at the register tells Connor his total. 

He turns to see Evan standing a few feet apart from a man with a mop. He’s got light hair. A slight beer belly. His name tag says “MARK.” 

Fuck. 

Evan’s dad.

* * *

“Evan? What are you doing here?”

Mark sounds… genuinely surprised. Looks surprised. 

And Evan’s a fucking idiot. He knew his dad worked at a gas station. 

He knew that. He’s a fucking idiot, he’s so fucking stupid, he’s going to get them killed. 

He’s going to get Connor killed, Mark is going to kill them both, he…

_ Get a fucking grip, _ the voice in his head tells him.  _ He’s not going to do anything in a public place, asshole. Get a hold of yourself.  _

“I-I-I-I-I c-c-c-came to v-v-v-v-visit Mom,” he manages to choke out. “At th-the cem… at the c-cemetery. W-we j-j-j-j-just n-n-n-need gas we’ll g-g-g-go soon-”

Mark looks at Connor, who’s looking at them now, his face drained of color. Evan can see Mark taking in Connor’s eyeliner, black blazer, ripped jeans, nail polish. Connor looks… 

Evan thought he looked cool this morning but now he wishes Connor weren’t wearing fucking makeup his dad is going to fucking lose it, he’s going to lose his temper and he’s going to kill both of them, he’s going to kill them. 

“Who’s your friend?” Mark asks, his voice sharp. “What the fuck is he wearing?”

Evan swallows. “He-he-he-he dr-dr-drove m-m-me here-”

Mark takes a step closer. “Need to be careful,” he says warningly. “You hanging out with guys like that, makes people ask questions. Wonder about you.”

Evan’s heart is beating too fast, too fucking fast, and he feels like he might pass out. 

He’s so fucking stupid. 

He’s so stupid he’s so stupid he’s so stupid. 

Why is he freaking out like this, what the fuck is wrong with him, why can’t he calm the fuck down? He lived with the man for five years, he wasn’t this scared all the time, wasn’t caught in this all-encompassing fear all the time, why is it happening now why can’t he get his shit together he’s so stupid he’s so fucking stupid-

Connor’s walking toward them, pale-faced, and he’s standing up straighter, taller, like he’s trying to be intimidating. In his combat boots and all black get-up, it seems to be working a little. Mark seems to wilt, just a little bit. 

It’s enough for Evan to start breathing again. 

“You ready to go?” Connor asks Evan, ignoring Mark entirely. 

“Y-y-y-y-yeah,” he stammers out. 

Mark clears his throat. Extends a hand. “I’m Evan’s dad,” he says to Connor. “Don’t think we’ve met.” The action is polite and the words are polite but the whole thing is just wrong, just fucking wrong. 

Connor stares him down. “I’m Connor.” He doesn’t shake his hand. Turns to Evan. “We should go.”

“You guys go to school together?” Mark asks. “Bet you’re at a good school now that you’re living with that lawyer. Good for you.”

Evan feels himself flinch, this awful jerking motion that he can’t control, that he knows makes him look weak, fuck. 

Fuck. 

“We do,” Connor says icily. “ _ That lawyer _ takes care of him.”

Mark smiles, but it’s dead behind the eyes. “Good for him.” He looks at Evan again. “You look good, kid. Strong.”

Evan doesn’t think he can speak right now. It’s like his mouth is wired shut. He nods.

“Not to be rude,” says Connor firmly, “but we need to get going.”

“Right,” says Mark, still looking at Evan, his jaw clenching a little. “Good seeing you, kid. Glad to see you’re doing good.”

With that, he grabs his bucket and mop and heads over to the slushie machine, where there’s a giant blue puddle Evan hadn’t noticed. 

Evan is frozen. 

He can’t move. 

He can’t breathe, he can’t think, he-

“You’re okay,” Connor says, putting his arm around him and guiding him out of the gas station, toward his car.

Evan just follows along as Connor opens the passenger side of his car, helps Evan in, then runs around to get into the driver’s side. “Put your seatbelt on,” Connor says softly, and Evan complies. 

His chest hurts. His heart hurts. Everything hurts, he aches all over, there’s a phantom sensation in his collarbone, twinging painfully, and he rubs it absently, trying to shake the feeling. 

He leans his head against the window and lets out a shaky breath. 

Connor drives. 

Just drives. 

Gets on the highway, gets him as far away from Chino as he can. 

Evan’s never been so fucking grateful to know this kid. If he’d been by himself, he’d… 

He froze. He freaked out. 

He…

Connor takes his hand lightly. Squeezes it. 

Evan squeezes it back weakly. 

“You’re okay,” Connor says quietly as he drives. “You’re safe, you’re okay.”

Evan wants to believe him.

* * *

Fuck. 

Evan is  _ not  _ okay. He stills looks freaked out even as they put ten then fifteen miles between themselves and Chino. 

Fuck. 

That was Mark. That was Evan’s fucking dirtbag piece of shit dad. 

Connor’s… honestly, he’s a little surprised. 

Part of him thought he’d be bigger. 

Imagined him towering over Evan, but really, he only had a few inches on Evan. If that. And Evan’s tough, he’s a fighter, he’s not the sort of person who wouldn’t hit someone back if they came at him but… 

Connor knows better. 

Knows a little of how it feels. Not a lot. Not the totality of it, the horrible reality of what Evan’s dad did to him. 

But if it’s anything like when Connor’s mom slapped him at Zoe’s party, anything like her cussing him out at cotillion. 

He knows that your brain doesn’t, like, react in its typical way when it’s your parent. 

Connor wanted to kill that guy. Kill Mark. Fucking murder him right there in that gas station. Beat him to death with his fucking mop. 

But he didn’t. He… got Evan out of there. 

Evan’s not okay. 

But he’s holding weakly onto Connor’s hand. 

And that’s… something at least. 

Connor lets go after a while and rifles through the bag of shit he bought back at the gas station. Cigarettes and candy and soda. Jesus they look like teenagers with this mix. Connor pulls out the bottle of soda he bought for Evan. 

“You want this?”

“N-no.”

He pulls out Skittles next. “These?”

Another no. 

Connor finds the cigarettes. “This?”

Evan sighs. “Yes.” 

As a rule, Connor doesn’t usually smoke in his car. His dad pays too close attention. He’ll break it every once in a while when he’s had a bad day, and then he’ll Febreeze the shit out of it to get the smell to fade. 

Today is a day for exceptions. 

Connor keeps one hand on the wheel and uses his teeth and his other hand to open the pack of Evan’s cigarettes. He shakes one out. Sticks it behind his ear. Shakes out a second. Puts the first one back in, upside down. 

Lights the second. Inhales. 

Passes it to Evan. 

Evan cracks his window and inhales deeply. 

Immediately his shoulders seem to loosen. 

Connor hands the pack of smokes to Evan. He eyes it, then looks at Connor. “Why’d you flip one?”

Connor shrugs. “I dunno. I heard once that it was lucky.” 

Evan nods. 

He surprises Connor by grabbing his hand back. 

Connor keeps his left hand on the wheel, his right hand in Evan’s.

Once he’s halfway through his cigarette, he goes in the bag and pulls Connor’s out. “You want o-one of these?”

“Sure.” 

Evan puts his own cigarette between his teeth. Pulls open the package of Connor’s one-handed. “How do you…?” He asks around his cigarette. 

He’s still holding Connor’s hand. 

“Uh. When you tap the bottom, grab the first one that comes out. You flip that one and smoke the second.”

Evan nods. Does as Connor says. 

Leans over slightly and says, “H-here.”

Connor automatically opens his mouth slightly. Pinches the cigarette between his lips. 

“S-sorry, my hands are sh-sh-shaking-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Connor says. 

He lights his own cigarette. 

Cracks his window. 

Makes an executive decision.

“We’re getting milkshakes,” Connor says. 

“Wh-what?” 

Connor smiles slightly. Takes a drag of his cigarette. “Milkshakes.”

“ _ You’re _ going to drink a milkshake?” Evan says skeptically. 

“Yup,” Connor says. “Okay, In-N-Out or Jack in the Box?” 

Evan shrugs. 

“Fine. Whipped cream or no?”

Connor catches Evan wrinkling his nose out of the corner of his eye. “I hate whipped cream.”

Connor smiles. “Really?”

“Y-yeah, it leaves a film on the roof of your mouth,” Evan says. 

“Okay. In-N-Out it is.”

Connor pulls off at the next exit and drives them to In-N-Out. He insists on buying them each a milkshake and also a huge order of fries. Evan still looks so fucking freaked out that Connor ends up eating half of the fries just to… do something that might not freak Evan out. 

“Dude,” Connor ventures after maybe ten minutes of quietly eating and drinking. “Are you… That must have been awful for you.”

Evan sort of nods. 

“What do you need?” Connor asks helplessly. 

“Do you think you can take us to the beach house?” Evan says softly. 

“Yeah,” Connor says, nodding. “Yeah. I can… do you want me to call Heidi?”

Evan bites his lip. 

Then nods. 

Connor calls her. He relates the short version of events and then tells her he will bring her a milkshake. As he pulls back into the drive-thru, Evan gives him a questioning look. 

“Heidi’s going to meet us at the beach house,” Connor tells him. “Okay?”

Evan nods. 

* * *

Heidi’s at the office when Connor calls. 

He only gives her a quick rundown of what’s happened, but he sounds so freaked out. 

She packs up what she’s doing immediately. It can wait until Monday. Everything can wait until Monday. 

She drives to the beach house. Connor and Evan haven’t arrived yet, so she takes some time to open up the house. Air it out. They get to the beach house at least once a week, but don’t always actually stay, so sometimes it’s a little musty from having been shut up. 

By the time Connor and Evan arrive, there’s a good breeze going through the house. There are dark clouds on the horizon, and it smells like it might rain. 

Evan’s pale and Heidi can see that his hands are shaking, but the shaking ceases and his color is starting to come back. She thinks it’s this place. 

It makes Evan feel safe. 

She pulls him into a tight hug as soon as she sees him. His eyes widen in surprise, like he’s not expecting it, but he sinks into it quickly, letting out this sad, shaky breath. 

“Are you okay?” she asks him. 

Evan tries to smile. “I’m f-fine, I’m j-j-just…” He swallows. Shrugs a little. “He-he-he wasn’t even… d-didn’t do anything, d-didn’t… I’m just…” He sighs. Deflates a little. “I’m b-b-b-being so st-stupid-”

“You’re not stupid,” Connor interrupts immediately. “You just weren’t expecting it and it threw off guard.”

“Exactly,” says Heidi. Evan shrugs again, but looks a little less freaked out. 

He pulls himself out of Heidi’s grasp, a little apologetically. “I’m just g-gonna… bathroom?”

“Okay,” Heidi replies, and he gives her a smile then heads into the house. She watches him go, then turns to Connor. “Thank you for calling me, Connor.”

“He wanted me to,” Connor says immediately. Something Heidi can’t quite read flashes across the kid’s face. “You make him feel safe.”

He’s got his arms wrapped protectively around his middle. Heidi feels a pang of grief at all of this. “So do you,” she replies quietly. “You have no idea how much it means to me that you look out for him, sweetheart.”

“He deserves it,” Connor replies, his face young and sad. “He deserves people looking out for him, he doesn’t… doesn’t deserve a shitty dad and a dead mom, it’s not fair.”

“It’s not,” Heidi agrees. 

Connor suddenly seems to remember he’s holding a milkshake and hands it to her. She thanks him and takes a sip. It’s vanilla. 

David always liked chocolate best, but Heidi likes vanilla. 

She remembers when Connor and Zoe were little, he used to get them so hopped up on sugar whenever he and Heidi looked after them. Sometimes they’d come here to the beach house, and he’d take them to In-N-Out for shakes first. He always got a round of chocolate milkshakes for the three of them, and vanilla for Heidi. 

It makes her feel warm inside that nearly a decade later, Connor remembers what milkshake flavor she likes. 

She puts her hand on Connor’s shoulder and guides him inside. They kick off their shoes, then sit on the frankly ridiculously comfortable couches in the living area. Connor crosses his legs like a pretzel and looks at her a little helplessly.

“I don’t know what to do,” he confesses. 

“You did everything right,” she tells him gently. “You got him home safely. Brought him here. Called me. You did everything right.”

Connor shrugs. Looks out the sliding door toward the ocean and doesn’t meet her eyes. 

“It was just so weird,” he says after a long moment. “Evan’s right. His dad was just, like, normal, kind of. Just a regular guy. He didn’t say anything weird or try to hurt him or anything. He wasn’t even that much taller than Evan. But the way Evan reacted…” Connor shrinks in on himself. Pulls his knees up to his chin. 

He’s too skinny. Far too skinny. 

“I think there’s a lot we don’t know,” Heidi confesses. “A lot that Evan’s not ready to talk about. Might not be for a while.”

Connor nods. Looks at her, a little cautiously. “The stuff he has told me,” he begins, his voice so quiet, “it breaks my heart. It’s just…” He rests his chin on his knees. “It’s so fucking sad.”

Heidi feels her chest ache. The ache just gets bigger and bigger. 

She thinks back to the conversation about therapy. How Evan had freaked out, how he’d so vehemently rejected the idea. 

There’s just…

So much. So much, and she can’t help him. 

She doesn’t have the tools. The skills. 

But she can’t force him, either. 

“Your dad said you have a new therapist,” Heidi says to Connor, a little hesitantly. “Is that… is it going okay?”

Connor’s eyes widen a little. He shrugs. Sits up a bit straighter. Clears his throat. 

“I, uh… I don’t, like, love it, but… I don’t know, sometimes it’s good to talk to someone.”

Heidi nods. “Right.” She looks over to the doorway to see if Evan’s on his way back. He’s not, so she turns back to Connor. “I talked to Evan about therapy. He really didn’t seem keen.”

Connor frowns a little. He sighs. “It’s probably, like, super weird for him. Talking to a complete stranger.”

“I get that,” Heidi says carefully. “But there’s only so much that you or I can do. I worry about him. Worry about how he’s coping with everything that’s happened to him.”

Connor’s face drains of color. He looks straight at Heidi. 

Looks like he’s about to say something, but at that moment, two things happen. 

Evan comes back into the living room. 

And it starts to rain.

Evan looks out at the rain and sighs a little. “Guess I’m n-not going to g-go sit on the beach,” he says, a little sadly. 

Heidi smiles. “David was always prepared for a rainy beach day,” she says, gesturing to the television. “There’s a DVD player and a whole bunch of DVDs in the cabinet, too.” She smiles a little. “Granted, it’s mostly movie musicals.”

Evan stares at her. “Musicals?” he says, like it’s this completely foreign concept. 

“Oh man,” says Connor, this fond smile on his face, “I remember when I was a kid, David showed me and Zoe  _ Singin’ in the Rain _ . We were kind of obsessed with it for a while? Zoe really wanted to do the dance, so we got an umbrella and the hose and one of Dad’s jackets. Mom was so mad, we made such a mess.”

Evan smiles. “Yeah?”

Connor nods. Shrugs. Puts his chin on his knees. “Wouldn’t mind watching it again.”

“Okay,” says Evan immediately. He takes a seat next to Connor on the sofa.

They spent the rest of the afternoon going through David’s collection of movie musicals and it’s… nice. Calm. Peaceful. After a while, Evan offers to cook an omelette for dinner, which she’s pleased to see Connor actually eats some of. 

It seems to be good for Evan, being able to do something for someone else. 

To be able to do something practical. 

He seems lighter. Less freaked out than when he arrived. 

Heidi doesn’t feel like she’s actually doing much. Like she’s actually helping, or making some big grand gesture to fix things. 

But maybe a big grand gesture to fix things isn’t what Evan needs. Maybe he just needs to feel safe. Needs to be around people who care about him. 

They keep their movie marathon up after dinner, too. Heidi’s already texted Larry to tell him that Connor’s staying here tonight. They watch  _ Moulin Rouge _ , which Evan seems to really enjoy. By the time they get halfway through  _ Chicago _ , Connor’s asleep on Evan’s shoulder. 

Heidi pauses the movie and looks at Evan with a soft smile. “He was really worried about you,” she says quietly. “I’m glad you have such a good friend.”

“Me too,” Evan says quietly. He looks at Connor for a long moment, this kind of awestruck expression on his face that makes Heidi smile a little. Then he looks back at Heidi. “It was really great of him to take me to the cemetery today.”

Heidi nods. “Yeah,” she says. “And that was okay? Visiting your mom like that?”

Evan hesitates for a moment, then nods. “It was good,” he says quietly. “Hard, but… but good.” He bites his lip. Looks at Heidi. “Maybe next time, you could come with me?”

Heidi can’t help it. Her eyes immediately start to sting. “You’d be okay with that?”

Evan looks a little surprised. “I’d like it. If you could meet her.” He frowns a little. “I know that you’re super busy, but-”

“I would love to,” Heidi tells him. “I would love that, Evan. Whenever you’re ready, we can do that. Just tell me when.”

Evan smiles a little. Ducks his head, like he’s embarrassed. “Awesome.”

Barely ten minutes later, Evan’s asleep, too, curled up against Connor. 

Heidi gets a blanket from the closet and puts it over the two of them before she heads to bed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "Mama" by My Chemical Romance.


	37. Long Live The Car Crash Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for Newport's annual Valentine's Day Gala.

“So there’s this fundraiser,” Michael says to Sabrina the Monday after their date. He’s waiting by her locker just before lunch with this big smile on his face. It’s cute. “This weekend. It’s a Valentine’s Day gala, raising funds for the hospital.” He shrugs a little. “My parents are making me go and I was thinking it might suck less if you were there. So… do you want to be my date?”

Logically, Sabrina should say yes. Should say yes immediately and not even bother thinking about it. An objectively cute boy who took her on a nice date wants to take her on a second date. That’s… kind of a no-brainer. 

It seems like Sabrina doesn’t have a fucking brain, because she just kind of sits there for a while in stunned silence. 

Michael laughs nervously. “I mean, you don’t have to, obviously, I just-”

“No, that’s…”

Michael’s shoulders sag. “No?”

Get a fucking grip, she tells herself. “I mean yes,” she manages to choke out. “Obviously.” She smiles at him. “Yes, absolutely, that’ll be really nice.” She shrugs. “My mom is probably going to make me go anyway, so… it will absolutely suck less with you.”

She doesn’t mention that Zoe, Sabrina and Madison had talked about going as a group. Madison had actually been the one to suggest it after Zoe’s disastrous date with Evan. 

Which wasn’t actually that long ago, in the grand scheme of things. 

Fuck, things move quickly around here. 

Michael smiles, this big relieved smile. “Cool,” he says. “I can pick you up? Or meet you there? Whatever works.”

“I’ll let you know,” she says, because that is just not a decision she can make right now. 

Michael’s smile fades a little. Sabrina feels like an asshole. 

He’s a really nice guy. He’s cute. He’s sweet. He likes  _ her _ .

“Maybe we could hang out after school?” she offers. “Sometime this week? We could get coffee?”

Michael’s eyes light up. “That would be awesome,” he says, and the smile’s back. “Are you free after school today?”

She shakes her head. “Sorry, I have plans. Tomorrow?”

Michael winces. “Water polo practice. Wednesday?”

Sabrina smiles. “Yeah, Wednesday.”

* * *

All Connor can talk about all day Monday is the new Fall Out Boy album. 

It’s oddly endearing, just how excited he is about this. 

Evan really likes it when Connor’s excited about things. And he’s determined that this won’t be yet another thing that he’s excited about that blows up in his face. 

He still feels bad about what went down in D.C. at the writer’s workshop. 

“So it’ll hit iTunes at midnight,” Connor says enthusiastically. “Which means I can download it at midnight.”

“Are you really going to stay up to download the album the minute it hits iTunes?” Evan asks, a little skeptically. “Can’t you just wait until the morning?”

“Uh, no,” says Connor immediately. “I want to be able to listen to it straight away.” He grins. “If I download it track by track then I can listen to each song when it finishes downloading and it’ll be great.”

“It’s going to take so long,” Evan points out. “You could be up all night.”

Connor shrugs. Takes a blueberry from the punnet Evan put in front of him. Eats it without even making a face. “Worth it. Totally worth it.”

Then Connor takes half of the peanut butter and jelly sandwich Evan offered him and takes a bite. Evan tries not to grin like an idiot, because it doesn’t look like it’s freaking him out. 

Evan has done a whole bunch of research into the best kind of peanut butter and found this bread that has, like, additional protein in it. The jelly is organic or whatever. He and Heidi spent a bunch of time on Sunday at the grocery store finding good stuff so Evan could make PB&Js that had some semblance of nutritional value. 

And Connor’s eating it. After a few bites, he smiles at Evan. 

“So this is actually pretty good,” he says, sounding a little surprised. “I wasn’t convinced about your weird protein bread, but I think I’m a convert.”

“Yeah?”

Connor nods. Smiles this kind of soft, embarrassed smile. He clears his throat. Looks like he wants to say something, but instead just takes another bite of his sandwich. 

He finishes the whole thing. 

Evan’s so proud he could kiss him. 

_ That’s pretty fucking gay, _ the voice in his head sneers at him.  _ Get your shit together, asshole. Just because everyone’s calling you a fag doesn’t mean you gotta go all in.  _

Connor has detention after school, which Evan doesn’t exactly love, but he takes the opportunity to get some homework done in the library while he waits for him. By the time detention is over, Evan’s got everything finished. Connor apologizes at least seven times on the way home, and apologizes again that he’s gotta help his dad cook dinner so they can’t hang out. 

“I might take a nap after dinner,” Connor says conversationally as he pulls into the gated community. “Set an alarm and get up so I can download the album at midnight.” He offers Evan a smile. “Doubt I’ll sleep, though, I’m way too excited.”

“Want some company?” Evan asks. 

Connor’s eyes go wide. His cheeks go bright red. “During my nap?”

Evan feels his own cheeks burn. “I meant when you download the album,” he clarifies. “You have the internet in the pool house, right? I could sneak out. Hang out with you while you wait for the download.”

Connor blinks. “You’d do that?”

“Sure,” Evan says, and his cheeks are definitely bright red right now, fuck, this is embarrassing. 

He has no idea how to be a normal person. A good friend. Whatever. 

“It could take, like, hours,” Connor points out. 

“Exactly,” says Evan with a shrug. “I don’t like the idea of you just sitting around for hours in the middle of the night, waiting for the download to finish.”

“But then you’ll be the one sitting around for hours in the middle of the night,” Connor counters. 

“Yeah, but I’ll be with you, so.” 

Connor’s looking at him with this strange expression. Like he’s looking right through him, like he’s looking for something. 

“Okay,” Connor says after a moment. His cheeks are still pink. “I’ll take my laptop to the pool house just before midnight. I’ll text you, okay?”

“Okay,” Evan agrees. 

Connor smiles at him. 

He likes it when Connor smiles. 

Evan does in fact have a nap after dinner. He sets his alarm clock for 11.30. He’s still got his old alarm clock, the one he used to take everywhere so he knew he’d wake up in time to hide when he stayed in the library overnight. The one he used to wake himself up if his dad gave him concussion. 

He puts the alarm clock under his pillow so it’ll wake him up but not Heidi. It’s not comfortable, but he’s used to it. 

He puts on a hoodie and some flip flops and takes both his phone and his alarm clock with him. He knows there’s an alarm on his phone, but he likes to go with what’s familiar. He’ll set an alarm for before Heidi wakes up, just in case he falls asleep or something. 

The last thing Evan wants is for Heidi to worry. 

When he gets to the Murphys’ pool house, the lights are on. He lets himself in and Connor’s sitting on the couch, his laptop already open. He grins when he sees Evan. 

“You made it!”

“Traffic was hell,” Evan jokes. Connor lets out this delighted laugh. He looks exhausted already. “How was your nap?”

“Non-existent,” Connor admits. “I was too pumped.”

“Have you done this before?” Evan asks, sitting next to Connor on the couch. “The whole waiting up all night to download an album?”

“Not with anyone else,” Connor admits. 

“Really? I would have thought that… th-that Miguel would be s-super into that.” Connor looks at Evan and Evan shrugs. “You, uh, you guys seem to have a lot of the same taste in music, so.”

Connor shrugs. “I mean, yeah, but the albums we were, like, super obsessed with were already out. And I had the physical copies, so.” He shrugs. “No late night download parties.”

Evan grins. “This is a party?”

Connor grins back. “Hell yeah, it’s a party.” He gestures to the table, where there’s a punnet of blueberries, some almonds and some plain popcorn. There’s also a whole bunch of candy. Skittles, peanut butter cups and Hershey's cookies and cream chocolate bars, which are… all Evan’s favorites. “I even brought snacks.”

Evan feels this rush of affection for Connor in that moment. 

He’s just… really great. 

Really fucking great. 

* * *

Connor is so relieved that Evan’s actually smiling when he jokes that this is a party. He feels sort of out of sorts and weird. Has ever since Evan offered to come hang out with him. Evan likes Fall Out Boy, sure, but he’s not like… a devoted fan the way Connor is. 

So he’s… staying up  _ for  _ Connor. 

And that makes Connor’s heart do like. Backflips and whatever. Total gymnastics. 

He needs to keep it together but some of his excited nervousness is leaking out of him. He starts babbling when Evan joins him on the couch, babbling about how, like, obviously they already heard the two singles released officially ahead of the album. 

“Did you know it actually leaked online last week?” Connor says to Evan. 

“Really?”

“Yeah. Not gonna lie, I totally tried to find the leak, but I dunno. I’m kinda bad at the internet. Besides I wanna, like, make sure they actually get paid you know? Like because I’m actually buying it. And I know they’re probably, like, only making like $3 off of me or whatever but I’d like that three dollars to, like, actually go to the band.”

Evan’s watching him like he’s never seen him before. 

“Also, sorry, I totally ran to the grocery store after dinner for the snacks and I went through Starbucks and thought, you know, I’d drink it after I napped but then I didn’t nap so I just kinda chugged the whole thing?” 

Evan laughs. “Did you get a  _ bucket  _ of coffee?”

Connor shakes his head. “I’m trying not to only drink black coffee because… well. You know. So I tried a white mocha and I got an extra shot because like, why not? But there’s a fuckton of sugar in those? So like. I’m kinda. Hyper?” He shakes his head. “Because apparently I’m  _ twelve. _ ” 

Evan smiles at him, this big warm smile. Connor’s heart genuinely has palpitations. He’s not sure if it’s the coffee or the smile. “This is f-fantastic. Kinda wish I w-was recording this.” 

“Shut up,” Connor laughs. 

The clock ticks to midnight. 

“Holy shit,” Connor breathes. 

He clicks the button to refresh the iTunes page. The purchase option is finally not grayed out. Connor can see all of the song titles. Connor clicks to begin his download. 

He’s practically vibrating. 

“You got the deluxe album?” Evan notes. He’s reaching across to the table to grab the Skittles Connor bought for him. He pours a few into his hand and then holds the bag out to Connor. He shakes his head. 

“I’m not an amateur,” Connor says, rolling his eyes. “Of course I got the deluxe version. There are bonus tracks Evan.  _ Bonus tracks. _ ”

Evan laughs happily. 

Connor’s eyes pour over the tracklist. He’s surprised that the song titles aren’t all together all that long. There’s a few of course, like “I’m Like a Lawyer With the Way I’m Always Trying to Get You Off (Me & You)” and "I've Got All This Ringing in My Ears and None on My Fingers."

The first track is called “Thriller.” It says it’s featuring Jay-Z. Connor thinks that’s a rapper, but he’s not sure. It downloads excruciatingly slowly. Connor’s gonna lose his shit waiting. 

Evan eats a few more Skittles and then the song is finally available to be played. 

“You ready?” Connor asks Evan. He smiles and nods. 

Connor hits play. 

The song opens with guitar. Connor’s heart is beating so hard. He’s weirdly nervous. What if this album sucks and he got all hyped up for nothing? 

Evan bumps his shoulder gently. 

_ “Yeah, what you critics said would never happen _

_ We dedicate this album to anybody people said couldn't make it _

_ To the fans that held us down 'til everybody came around _

_ Welcome, it's here!” _

Connor feels his skin break out in goosebumps. 

He feels stupidly emotional about that as an opener. 

But then Patrick Stump is singing and Connor’s goosebumps only get worse.  _ “Last summer we took threes across the board.”  _

He knows, objectively, that this band has no idea who Connor Murphy from Orange County California is. But yet, somehow, this song seems to be  _ for  _ him. 

For people like him. 

Who people said couldn’t make it. 

For the car crash hearts. The diehards. 

Connor’s legit shivering by the final line of the last chorus,  _ “Fix me in forty-five! Woo!” _

Evan’s watching him. “Dude, are you okay?”

“If you tell anybody about this I will deny it,” Connor says, his voice weirdly choked up. Something that has been tight and hurting inside of him has released a little. He wipes his eyes. He doesn’t know why but this song feels like he is being stabbed but that being stabbed is somehow a relief. 

Evan wraps his arm around Connor, rubs his shoulder. “I liked that song.” 

“Yeah,” Connor says, his voice rough. “Me too.”

It takes a couple more minutes for the next song to finish downloading, and Connor’s almost grateful because he feels like he needs to catch his breath after the first one. Evan nudges him once and Connor blinks. Evan’s holding out the container of blueberries. 

Connor eats one. Smiles at Evan. 

The next song is more upbeat. Almost poppy. But Connor still likes it. It’s catchy. It seems to make Evan smile. He tells Connor he thinks the band has gotten “clever” in their wordplay. There’s a line about conjugal visits that Evan smiles and insists is about a mindfuck. 

The next song is “This Ain’t A Scene, It’s An Arms Race,” which Connor has listened to about a thousand times already, but they listen to it anyway, to hear it in the context of the album. Evan sort of shakes his head at it. “I have no idea what they’re saying.” 

Connor translates some of the lines. He’s always had a good ear for Patrick Stump’s too punk for diction singing style. 

“Man, it’s k-kinda ironic when you think about it,” Evan muses. 

“Hm?”

“These musicians… they-they work so hard to get f-famous, right? And then they do and… and being famous sucks too. J-just it sucks differently.” Evan tilts his head slightly. “Just… I k-kinda get that? Like when I was a kid I sort of thought that, y’know, h-having money would make everything, l-like, perfect. But it doesn’t actually solve all of the problems people have. And s-sometimes it creates some new ones, you know?” 

Connor nods. “Yeah. Yeah  _ exactly _ . You’re so fucking, smart dude.” 

Evan’s cheeks turn a little pink. 

The next song downloads. It’s one of the songs with a long-ass title. Connor grins when it starts. Evan’s grinning back at him. The song is a little bit of a traditional love song, about a honeymoon and whatever, and Connor feels his cheeks heat up because Evan’s totally looking at him with this warm and happy smile and Connor looks away suddenly. 

Because Evan’s eyes on him? They make Connor feel… too much. 

He doesn’t know how to take it. 

He stands up and gets some popcorn and comes back to sit a little further away from Evan, a little less in range of his warmth and pretty eyes and bright sunshiny smile and fuck he’s got these freckles on his nose that make Connor… feel a little crazy. 

Fuck okay. 

Okay. 

The next song is called “Hum Hallelujah.” 

“Ready?” Connor asks Evan. 

Evan nods. 

* * *

Evan thinks he’s starting to get better at understanding what’s been sung here. Not quite as good as Connor, who seems to have some kind of supernatural ability to understand the lyrics. 

He likes the guitar on this one. 

It’s a little easier to focus on the lyrics if he closes his eyes. And if he closes his eyes, then he can focus on… not focusing on Connor, because it’s probably a little weird and creepy that he likes seeing his reaction to this album. 

Fall Out Boy may be too punk rock for diction, but they sure as hell know how to write a lyric. 

_ “The road outside my house is paved with good intentions” _

“Oh,” he says, almost without meaning to. “I like that.”

Connor hmmms a little, like he’s agreeing. Evan keeps his eyes closed, keeps focusing. 

“I’m not falling asleep,” he feels compelled to say after a while. “Or t-tired. Just… trying to f-focus.”

“Okay,” says Connor quietly. 

The verse right before the second chorus tugs at Evan’s heartstrings. Makes him feel kind of cold and prickly all over, a little unreal. 

_ “I love you in the same way _

_ There's a chapel in a hospital _

_ One foot in your bedroom _

_ And one foot out the door _

_ Sometimes we take chances _

_ Sometimes we take pills _

_ I could write it better than you ever felt it” _

He thinks about his mom. His mom used to listen to a lot of music when Evan was little. He remembers there was always something playing in the house like she couldn’t bear for it to be quiet. 

He thinks about how she died. 

Evan opens his eyes. He doesn’t think he can focus that intently on this anymore. He thinks if he focuses on the lyrics this much, they might break him a little bit. 

It’s the middle of the night. 

Emotions are always worse in the middle of the night. 

Connor’s looking at him, frowning a little like he’s going to ask if Evan’s okay, and Evan tries to smile the best he can. Tries to make out like he doesn’t feel strange and cold and prickly and not quite real because this song is making him think about his mom. 

And then, there’s a song he knows. 

A song he heard his mom play all the time. 

A song that’s been in the back of his mind since the first chorus, because it’s not like you hear the word hallelujah every day, and…

He pulls his knees to his chin. Curls up into a ball, as protectively as he can, because this is starting to feel like an attack. 

That’s so stupid. 

That’s so fucking stupid. 

He’s so stupid, he’s being a little bitch about this. It’s a song, it’s just a song. 

Connor has his hand on his shoulder seconds later. “Hey. You alright?”

Evan blinks. Wipes his eyes. 

The back of his hand comes back wet. 

Tries to smile at Connor. 

“If you tell anybody about this,” he says, fighting to keep his voice light, “I will deny it.”

Connor slings his arm around his shoulder. Rests his head on top of Evan’s for a moment. He’s kind of shivering a little, too. 

“Feelings are weird,” Evan mumbles after a while. “Especially, like, one am feelings.”

“Music is supposed to make you feel shit,” Connor replies softly. “Apparently.”

The song’s over. They keep sitting. 

Just a couple of guys, having emotions about Fall Out Boy in the middle of the night. 

Connor gives his shoulder a quick squeeze, then all but leaps off the sofa. “I’m getting you some chocolate,” he announces. 

The cold prickly feeling subsides. He feels warmer now. 

Connor hands him a chocolate bar. Smiles softly. 

“You okay?”

Evan nods. Wipes his face again. 

Shrugs. 

“My mom liked that song,” he says quietly. “Ob-obviously not the whole song, the… the one in the m-middle that they did, like, a little bit of.” 

Connor’s face goes a little pale, but he nods. Smiles a little. 

“You know Leonard Cohen is Jewish, right?”

Evan shakes his head. “I didn’t,” he confesses. “Is that who sings that song?”

Connor nods. “Yeah.”

Evan feels kind of stupid. Like he should know this. He shrugs again. “Mom listened to a lot of music when I was little,” he says. “B-but I was so young when she died that I d-don’t… I don’t really know the music, you know? Just, like… fragments.” He tries to smile at Connor. “Always at weird t-times, too. It comes back at… weird times.”

* * *

“You sure you’re alright?” 

Evan nods. 

Connor hugs him again. He can’t stop himself. He hates seeing Evan look so devastated. He hates it more than words can say. 

The song got to him too. 

_ “Sometimes we take chances, sometimes we take pills.” _

Connor knows Pete Wentz writes these lyrics. Knows that a few years ago, Pete Wentz attempted suicide by taking an overdose of Ativan in a parking lot… 

He knows how it feels. 

Evan’s mom knew how it felt. And now she’s gone. 

And Evan had to grow up without her. And it’s not fucking fair. 

None of it is fucking fair. 

Evan sighs. “Okay. I’m good. S-sorry.”

“Don’t mention it,” Connor says. He tries to smile. 

He… 

Their last album was angrier. This one is… sadder. The next song is called “Golden” and it’s mostly just a soft piano and a voice. 

He and Evan just sort of stare at each other as the song plays on, the lyrics’ hopelessness mounting and Connor suddenly has the impulse to stop the song. Just stop this whole thing because this was  _ not  _ supposed to be such a fucking bummer. 

“Fuck,” Evan says when the song finishes. “Is this band like… okay? Do they need to-to talk to someone?” 

Connor laughs weakly. 

He doesn’t know what to make of the next title. “Thnks fr th mmrs.”

It takes a bit for it to download. 

The song starts with a low vocal and Connor can immediately tell this is… going somewhere. The verse builds and builds and by the time the chorus hits, it hits  _ hard,  _ like it’s being shouted. 

Evan’s face breaks into a huge grin, this stupidly beautiful smile, and the pair of them are kinda like both obviously losing it because it’s just… great. It’s exactly what Connor wanted this album to be. Hard and driving and loud and the lyrics are angry and full of pain and yes, yes, this is exactly what he wanted and -

_ “He tastes like you only sweeter.” _

Okay. 

Okay. 

He probably heard that wrong. 

He’s tired. He’s hopped up on sugar.

Because his favorite band did not just have a dude use masculine pronouns in a lyric about kissing. They definitely didn’t. There’s no chance. 

But then the chorus comes around again and Connor hears it  _ again  _ and he and Evan are both kind of like laughing and it’s got this sort of quality about it that makes it impossible to just sit still and listen to it and by the end of the song, Evan and Connor are both on their feet and sort of shouting along to the words they’ve picked up and their laughing and it’s weird but good and Connor shakes his head to show Evan the title because “They just took the fucking  _ vowels _ out, what the fuck.”

The next song keeps up that energy and the pair of them are just, like, behaving stupidly as they listen to “Don’t You Know Who I Think I Am?” and then they both sort of nod along to “The (After) Life of the Party.” They’ve both heard “The Carpal Tunnel of Love” already, but in the context of the album it seems almost… like an apex of anger, a sudden venting of pent up frustration left out of the earlier songs, and there’s screaming, actual screaming, in this one. 

Connor offers those thoughts to Evan who looks at him thoughtfully and says, “You should be, like, a music critic. You know like. So much about this stuff.”

Connor shakes his head. “No, I don’t know shit about any other music. Just this music? I don’t think you can, like, selectively critique music that you know you’ll like.” 

Connor really loves “Fame < Infamy,” and Evan sort of loses it over “You’re Crashing But You’re No Wave.” He goes off on a long, tired ramble about the criminal justice system and the way that it is designed to keep poor people and people of color down, and he’s so fucking passionate as he talks that Connor forgets for a moment just what it is that they’re actually doing. They’re listening to Fall Out Boy, not hosting a philosophical discussion on ethics… 

But it feels totally natural to let Evan voice his thoughts and to nod and interject his thoughts and ask questions when he doesn’t understand and fuck, Evan is just so smart and wonderful. 

He’s so wonderful. 

Evan seems to realize he’s been talking for a while and his face flushes and he apologizes several times. “S-sorry. I didn’t mean, to, l-like, sidetrack us.”

“Dude, no, you’re great, that was great,” Connor says. He eats a handful of popcorn. “You’re kind of a genius, you know that right?”

Evan goes a deeper red. Connor loves it when he blushes. 

He loves it. 

They listen to the last of the official tracklist. 

The two of them settle into a sort of awed silence as the official album ends with the ringing lyrics,  _ “The truth hurts worse than anything I could bring myself to do to you.” _

“Fuck.”

“Y-yeah.”

“Holy shit.”

“I  _ know _ .”

They take a short break. It’s after two o’clock now. Evan goes to use the bathroom and Connor gets them both some water. They settle back onto the couch to listen to the two bonus tracks. 

“What’s G.I.N.A.S.F.S.?” Evan says. He sounds exhausted. His eyes are tired. 

“No idea,” Connor says. He presses play and googles it, then laughs softly when the page loads. “It’s… Gay Is Not A Synonym for Shitty.”

Evan grins sleepily at him. “I like it.” 

Connor likes it too. 

The bonus tracks are good. Connor really likes them both. 

“So… what’s the v-verdict?” Evan asks him, barely stifling a yawn. 

“I fucking loved it.” 

“M-me too.” 

Connor smiles. He’s smiling so hard his face sort of hurts. There’s a muscle at the back of his head that aches like he might have pulled it or something. 

“Well… you should probably get home,” Connor says reluctantly. 

Evan yawns. “We should listen to it one m-more time. All the way through.” 

“It’s late,” Connor protests. “We have school.”

Evan shrugs. “We should listen to it again.”

Connor can’t resist. He gets up to pee and gets some more water. His throat feels kind of sore. His eyes are tired. 

When he gets back, Evan’s on his back in the bed in the middle of the room, but he’s not falling asleep. His eyes are wide open. He’s smiling a bit. 

Connor drinks a little water. Checks his phone to see the time. It’s quarter to three. 

And he has a text from M. 

**Holy shit did you listen to new FOB yet?**

Connor frowns at the text. 

They haven’t spoken since D.C. 

Connor’s kind of… pissed, actually. 

Who the fuck does Miguel think he is, texting him like that out of nowhere? After weeks of no contact? After months of radio silence before that. And now he wants Connor’s opinion on a band that  _ Connor got him into.  _

In a moment of utter certainty, Connor selects Miguel’s contact and deletes it. 

He feels immediately so much lighter. 

He goes to sit on the bed beside Evan. “You should go get some sleep.”

“No,” Evan says, stubborn. “I want to hear it again. Hear the whole thing, no gaps.” 

Connor grins. “Okay.” 

He sets his laptop on the bedside table and presses play on “Thriller.” 

Lays back against the pillows. 

He really fucking likes this song. 

“ _ Long live the car crash hearts…” _

Connor can’t keep his eyes open. 

He falls asleep just as the first song is ending. 

* * *

Evan’s woken up by the sound of his alarm clock. 

Immediately followed by a loud “holy fucking  _ shit! _ ”

It takes him a second to realize he’s got his arms wrapped around something warm, and another second to realize that the warm something is actually Connor, who’s trying to sit up. 

Fuck. 

Shit. 

Fucking shit. 

He lets go and Connor kind of leaps out of his arms, like he’s been burned or something, and Evan sits up and blinks and tries to collect himself. 

Tries to figure out where the fuck he put his alarm clock. 

He manages to stumble over to the table to grab it, still half asleep. Turns it off, then looks at the clock. 

5.30am. 

Heidi’s alarm clock goes off at 6. His doesn’t usually go off until 6.30. 

“What the actual fuck?” Connor says, looking at Evan’s alarm clock. His cheeks are pink but he’s almost smiling. “Did you seriously bring an alarm clock with you?”

“Remember how we got in trouble after the concert?” Evan points out, trying to get his heart rate back under control and…

Trying to ignore the fact that he just woke up and he’s a sixteen-year-old boy. 

Who was totally cuddling Connor, apparently. 

Just, like, hugging him like a stuffed animal. 

Connor takes the alarm clock off Evan, looking at it with interest. “This thing must be, like, a thousand years old.”

“Approximately,” Evan jokes weakly. “I, uh, found it in a thrift store for a couple of bucks when I was 12. It was super useful after the first time I got a concussion.”

Shit. 

Fuck. 

He’s said the wrong thing. 

Connor’s face drains of color. “You got a concussion when you were 12?” 

Evan blinks. Rubs his face. “Yeah,” he says after a moment. “It’s, uh… I should get back to Heidi’s before she wakes up.”

Connor looks like he very badly wants to say something, but he doesn’t. He just nods. 

“We’ll stop at Starbucks,” Connor says as Evan puts on his flip flops. “Before school. Okay?” He offers this weak smile. “We only got, like, barely 3 hours of sleep.”

“Yeah,” Evan says, feeling like a complete fucking idiot. “I’ll, uh, I’ll see you in a few hours.” He heads to the door. Turns back to Connor. He feels too weird leaving like this. “Thanks for letting me be here. It was… really fucking fun.” 

Connor’s smile softens into something more real. “Yeah,” he says. “It was.”

* * *

Sabrina’s mom is thrilled about Michael taking her to the Valentine’s Day Gala. Completely beyond thrilled. She insists on taking Sabrina shopping on Thursday afternoon and gets her an appointment to get her hair and makeup done right after school on Friday. 

She doesn’t totally hate the dress her mom picks out. It’s red, and it makes her boobs look really great, which of course she doesn’t mention to her mom. Her mom comments that she’s lost some weight, which she has… mixed feelings about. 

She’s been using the gym membership her mom bought her for Christmas a lot. It’s a good way to get out some frustration, especially the boxing classes. Patty who runs the boxing classes is awesome. She has really great arms. She looks strong and powerful and…

Really hot. 

It’s really, really hot. 

Patty does mixed martial arts, she tells Sabrina after a class one day, and offers to give Sabrina more information if she ever wanted to give it a go. 

It sounds… awesome. 

Really awesome. 

Her mom would never go for it, for the same reasons she made Sabrina quit field hockey, but she thinks she’d like it a lot. 

The hair and makeup appointment takes literal hours, but by the end of it, Sabrina’s got these vintage-looking curls, flowing around her shoulders. With the red dress, she looks a little bit like Nicole Kidman in  _ Moulin Rouge. _

Obviously she’s not, like, tragically pale and dying of consumption, but the hair and the makeup and the dress… 

It’s a good look. A really good look. 

Possibly, like, the most traditionally beautiful she’s ever looked. 

It’s really fucking girly, though. Which is a weird thing to think, because of course she’s a girl. These boobs cannot be ignored. It’s just kind of… weird, to see herself dressed up like this. 

She looks at her reflection in the mirror and realizes with a weird feeling that she doesn't feel like she’s looking at herself. Even weirder is that she thinks she looks super hot. 

This dress and hair and makeup would be super hot on someone else. 

She would absolutely make out with the girl in the mirror, but she doesn’t feel like the girl in the mirror is her. 

It’s the weirdest thing. 

So fucking weird. 

“I had brunch with Marcella Paterson,” Sabrina’s mom says from where she’s picking out jewelry to go with Sabrina’s outfit. “Michael talks about you all the time, she tells me. He’s clearly very smitten.” She brings over a pair of earrings and a matching necklace, then hands the earrings to Sabrina, who dutifully puts them on. “That’s a good sign, you know. If a boy’s taken with you enough to mention it to his mother.”

“Michael is really nice,” Sabrina agrees, this uneasy feeling in her stomach. “He’s really smart and he’s kind.”

“Cute, too,” says her mom with a nod. Sabrina gives her a look and she laughs. “I’m not blind, Sabrina, I can tell when someone’s cute.” Her expression gets serious. “And he’s from a good family. He has good standing in the community.” Her mom moves to put the necklace around Sabrina’s neck, carefully moving the curls. “Shame he wasn’t around in December. He would have been a perfect cotillion escort. You wouldn’t have gotten stuck with Cynthia’s boy.”

Sabrina fights back her annoyance. Connor had been a really fucking great escort, actually. He’d made the whole bullshit experience almost tolerable, even though he’d had a pretty shitty night himself. There’s no reason for her mom to be such a bitch about it. She’s about to say something when her mom touches her shoulder, frowning a little. 

“You might need to be more careful,” she says, her tone warning. “I know you’ve been going to the gym a lot, but you need to be focusing more on cardio. You’ve already got broad shoulders for a girl, you don’t want to start looking too…”

“Butch?” Sabrina offers. 

Her mom frowns deeper. Moves her hand. “You just don’t want people getting the wrong idea about you.”

Sabrina doesn’t mean for the next words to come out of her mouth. “I don’t know how to make you happy.”

Her mom’s eyes narrow. “Excuse me?”

Well, she didn’t mean to open this particular can of worms, but...

“You made me quit hockey, then got pissed off when I put on weight because I wasn’t as active anymore,” she tries to explain. “And now you’re pissed off because I’ve gained some muscle from the gym membership you bought me?”

“Women don’t need to be gaining muscle,” her mom says firmly. “If you just focus on cardio-”

“This is  _ my  _ body, Mom.”

Her mom looks at her for a long moment, apparently speechless. 

Then she’s not so speechless. 

“How you look determines how people see you,” her mom says icily. “And it reflects on  _ me _ . Do you think I don’t hear the way the other moms talk about you? How they talked about you at cotillion? How I didn’t get my money’s worth after sending you to that camp in the summer?” 

“That’s bullshit-”

“I have worked  _ hard _ ,” her mom continues, something bitter and awful in her voice, “to be accepted in this community. For years, I have fought to get us to where we are. And you don’t think about that. Don’t think about what you do and how you look affects me. You need to stop being so selfish.”

“I’m being selfish?” Sabrina spits out. “What about you? You were never popular in high school and it’s like you’re trying to do it all over again through me. And I have done everything you’ve asked me to, Mom. I made friends with Zoe, I had my debut, I’m going on a date with a boy you approve of.” She feels her whole face heat up, her stomach churn with anger. She’s fucking furious, all of a sudden. “I didn’t eat for an entire week before cotillion because you wouldn’t let me! That’s… that’s so fucked up, Mom. This is so fucked up.”

“Oh please,” her mom says snidely. “You have no idea how to run your life. You don’t know what the hell you’re doing without me. Complain all you want, but if it weren’t for me telling you what to do, you wouldn’t be anybody. And you’d be miserable.”

_ I’m miserable now,  _ Sabrina thinks. 

The thought hits her like a freight train. 

She’s never admitted that to herself before now. 

But it’s true. 

She’s fucking miserable.

She’s all dressed up with expensive hair and makeup in a pretty dress, about to go to a Valentine’s Gala with a cute boy. She’s friends with all the popular kids. She’s bent over backward to fit in. 

And she’s fucking  _ miserable _ . 

The only time she’s not miserable is when she’s alone with Zoe. 

That’s…

That’s so fucking sad. 

So completely, pathetically sad. 

Her mom raises her eyebrows. “Pull yourself together,” she says after a while. “Michael will be here to pick you up soon. He’s a nice boy and doesn’t deserve you being an ungrateful bitch about all of this.” She goes to leave the room, then turns around to look at her again. “You will not embarrass me tonight, Sabrina. Do you hear me?”

Sabrina thinks she nods. 

She isn’t sure.

She just stares at the stranger in the mirror and tries to figure out what the hell she’s supposed to do. 

* * *

Connor is not looking forward to this whole Valentine’s Day fundraiser thing. His mom has thrown herself into planning the whole damn thing. He’s heard her on the phone at all hours, arguing about flowers and dress code and all sorts of other shit. 

His dad sat Zoe and Connor down on Monday and basically begged them to please play happy family for mom so she doesn’t start drinking again. 

Connor keeps his mouth shut. 

And reports to the venue after school on Friday as instructed. 

Evan’s with him. Both of them have their suits in the back of Connor’s car. 

Connor can tell that Evan’s not like. Wild about this event. But he promised he would go and help because he wasn’t going to leave Connor alone to deal with it. 

Connor’s surprised. He’s been a shithead to Evan recently, but apparently all is forgiven since they got sick. 

And Connor’s not going to turn down the opportunity to have someone to suffer through this nonsense with him. He’s not  _ that _ much of a masochist. 

Connor parks his car and he and Evan head inside to find Connor’s mom. 

Connor fully expects they’re going to be stuck unloading and arranging tables and stuff. 

When they get there, his mom hands him a fabric steamer and tells him to start straightening all of the tablecloths. “They were supposed to arrive pressed,” she says forlornly. “But they all arrived wrinkled and the caterers have seven other events tonight so they can’t send someone to swap them.”

“Got it.”

His mom sends Evan off to arrange chairs. Connor gets to work steaming the tablecloths, which has  _ got  _ to be the world’s most mundane and idiotic task. The moment people sit down they’re just going to get wrinkled again. 

But Connor works diligently to get them all perfectly straightened out. He turns on his iPod and listens to  _ Infinity on High  _ on repeat while he works, and he’s finished with the whole ballroom in one and half listens. 

He takes his earbuds out. He finds Evan setting the tables under his mom’s careful eye. She keeps correcting his fork placement and Connor’s half afraid Evan is going to stick a fork in his mother’s throat. 

“Didn’t your parents teach you etiquette?” She says with a sigh. “The salad fork goes on the  _ outside. _ ”

“I can help,” Connor volunteers. “It’ll go faster with two of us.”

Evan smiles at him gratefully. 

“Fine,” his mom says. “The centerpieces just arrived anyway.”

She hurries off. 

“Sorry,” Connor says softly. “I’m sorry she’s…”

Evan shrugs at him. Gives him a tiny half-smile. “Don’t worry about it.” He looks at Connor. “I… I d-don’t actually know which one the salad fork  _ is. _ ”

Connor nods. He holds it up for Evan. 

“It looks the same,” he protests. 

Connor sighs. “I know.”

They get to work putting the cutlery on the tables. Evan sheepishly asks Connor to check his work after they finish each one. 

“Ignore her. She’s just… a bitch. It’s fine. You’re fine. Thank you again for coming. I really owe you.”

“N-no. You don’t.”

Connor smiles. 

They’re almost finished with the last table when Connor hears his mother practically  _ screaming  _ about someone’s incompetence. 

“Fuck,” he whispers. 

That’s not good. 

“Go,” Evan says. “I’ll…I’ve g-got this.”

Connor shoots Evan a grateful smile. He then hurries off to find his mom. 

She hangs up her phone and is looking distraught at the cart of floral centerpieces. 

Admittedly they… look sloppy. Even Connor can tell. There are roses but they’re not arranged nicely and there’s a bunch of carnations and baby's breath sticking out crookedly. 

“What am I going to do?” his mom sobs, her hand over her face. “The doors open in an hour and a half and my centerpieces look like a six-year-old put them together. Everyone is going to talk, everyone is going to  _ laugh _ and call me a drunk and I’ll never be trusted to run an event again.”

Connor doesn’t know what to do. 

On the one hand, his mom would deserve it. To be treated like shit after how she’s behaved. 

On the other, Connor hates it when she cries. And she hasn’t been  _ so  _ bad lately. 

“Can I help?” he asks. 

“I don’t see how you’re going to!” she says. “Unless you can recreate fifty floral arrangements in under ninety minutes. You might as well just go home. The night’s already ruined.”

Connor is tempted to just. Do that. Grab Evan and just get the fuck out of here before he has to deal with a full-on Cynthia Murphy Meltdown. 

But he just. Can’t. 

He walks over to the cart. 

His mom used to do the floral arrangements for events herself when he was little. She’d let him help sometimes. Mostly because he was always underfoot and always wanted to be with her. So she’d put him to work. 

He can fix this. 

He grabs the first one. Pulls out the haphazard roses and carnations and rearranges them. Gently prods the roses so that their petals open a little wider. Sticks the baby’s breath around the edges and in the gaps. 

His mom is watching him. 

She wipes her eyes. 

“That’s… that’s not bad.” She nods. “We might need to trim the stems a little.”

Connor nods. “I can go find scissors?”

She nods. 

Connor hurries off. Manages to get the venue manager to give him two pairs of sharp scissors. He brings them back to his mom and the two of them get to work. They rearrange the flowers. Trim up the roses. Straighten the carnations and baby’s breath. 

“See? It looks better, right?” Connor says. Almost desperately. 

She nods once. 

“Yes. Thank you.”

He’s kind of shocked to hear her thank him. He’s not expecting it. 

The two of them work quickly and then, not even forty-five minutes after the crisis first arose, they’re finished. 

“I still need to get ready,” his mom says helplessly. She’s still in slacks and sandals. 

“You go,” Connor says. “I’ll put them on the tables. Okay?”

She nods. 

Hurries off. 

Connor pushes the cart into the ballroom to start placing the flowers. Evan sees him from where he was reading in the corner, and he gets up quickly and starts helping Connor to place the centerpieces. 

“These are nice,” Evan says. 

“Thanks,” Connor says. “I helped to fix them.” He shrugs. “Thank you. Again. For helping? You have no idea how much it means to me.”

Evan smiles sadly. “Of course. You’re my best friend. I wouldn’t just leave you by yourself with your mom.”

Connor could almost kiss him. 

Evan is just. The best. 

* * *

Zoe is so fucking over tonight. 

Sabrina and Michael seem like they’re having a good time. They’re laughing a lot. 

Sabrina’s laugh is actually kind of loud, now that Zoe thinks about it. She should be careful with that. People will zero in on it. 

Sabrina and Michael are hanging around the edges of the group Zoe is with and pointedly  _ not  _ looking at Zoe even though she knows she looks good tonight and it’s pissing her off. 

She’s not jealous. 

She’s not. 

Maybe a little. Zoe couldn’t get Evan Hansen, who is, like, awkward and shy, to date her but suddenly Sabrina has landed Michael? 

How is that fair?

Zoe is hot. She’s objectively one of the hottest girls in their class. At their school. 

Why is she the one without a date here? 

Maybe Madison is onto something about being intimidatingly hot or whatever. 

Funny how that feels about the same as being ugly and unwanted. 

Zoe decides she’s done sitting there and watching Sabrina on her  _ awesome  _ date. 

She gets up and finds Brian and Chad out on the patio with Tommy. 

“Hey there Murph,” Tommy says with a grin. He’s smoking a cigarette and looks fucked. “Your mom didn’t fuck this up too bad, eh?”

Zoe ignores him. “Did I interrupt the circle jerk?” She says to Chad and Brian. 

“You’re such a bitch,” Brian says sort of affectionately. He loops an arm around her and dangles a small baggie of pills in front of her eyes. “Wanna have some fun?”

“Definitely,” Zoe says. She takes some oxy from the bag. Downs it with a sip of Brian’s champagne. 

“Gonna have to pay for that, you know,” Brian says with a grin. He’s staring at her tits. 

“What did you have in mind?” She asks, looking up through her eyelashes. 

And then Brian’s tugging her away from the guys, his arm around her shoulder. 

They find the unused coat room with ease. Brian’s already unzipping when they get inside. 

Zoe knows what happens next. She gets on her knees. Tries not to let her nerves show. 

She’s never actually done this. 

But Brian doesn’t seem to notice or care. He grabs her hair hard and Zoe’s eyes water and she thinks that it’s a lot easier on the jaw when she’s going down on Sabrina because, like, hers is getting sore. 

She pulls off as she hears his breathing getting more rapid. “Wait,” she says. 

“What?” Brian says. He sounds annoyed. 

“Maybe we can… both have some fun?” Zoe says. She’s trying for coy. “You’re really hot like this… maybe we could…?”

Brian blinks. “You’re joking.”

“What?” Zoe says. 

“No offense, but I don’t want Quitter’s boyfriend’s sloppy seconds. You could have AIDS or some shit.”

Zoe feels her jaw drop. “I was  _ literally  _ just blowing you.”

“Well that doesn’t count,” Brian says. “And do you think you can finish up? My mom’s gonna be looking for me soon.”

“You’re joking right?”

Brian looks irritated. “No way babe, I’m getting blue balls.”

“Fuck you,” Zoe says. 

“Murph, babe, come on I need to finish-”

She doesn’t know what comes over her, but suddenly she’s standing up and kneeing Brian in his obviously not blue balls and stalks off while he calls her a bitch. 

Zoe feels like crying. 

What the fuck. 

The whole reason people think Evan’s gay is because he  _ wouldn’t  _ fuck her and now she’s getting rejected because Brian thinks he did? 

Brian is so fucking stupid. 

Zoe is so fucking stupid. 

Zoe heads back into the hall and sees Sabrina and Michael kissing on the dance floor. 

She swipes two glasses of champagne from a cater-waiter and retreats to a bench where she can cry and nobody will find her. 

* * *

This just really isn’t Evan’s favorite. 

Events like this are not Evan’s favorite at all. But he’ll do them for Connor, which is… 

An interesting thing to learn about himself. 

That he’ll do something he genuinely does not enjoy for the sake of a friend. 

He wonders if it’s just Connor. He has no idea really because he’s never really had a friend before. 

Connor seems nervous. Kind of freaked out. He keeps hovering by the bar, a little anxiously. The bartender keeps giving them bottles of water and the waiter guy keeps coming past to try to offer them food. 

Evan gets it. Connor’s mom got super drunk and made a huge fucking spectacle at the last of these big society events. It makes sense to be a little spooked it could happen again. 

It’s not like Evan’s particularly convinced that 28 days in rehab is going to do anyone much good in the long run. Especially since it clearly wasn’t her decision to go. 

He doesn’t say that to Connor, though. It seems like a dick move.

The vibe here is weird. Evan suspects it’s because no one’s actually sure what they’re supposed to be fucking doing. What even is a Gala, anyway? Just a big party? At least the fashion show had a fashion show, and cotillion had the dancing and the ceremony and shit. This is just… a bunch of rich people, standing around and drinking. 

There are a bunch of other kids from school around. Sabrina Patel is sitting with this kind of bland looking guy from the water polo team and he’s looking at her like he can’t quite believe how lucky he is. It’s kind of sweet. 

Sabrina looks  _ really  _ good tonight. She reminds Evan of the redhead from  _ Moulin Rouge _ , only way less pale. And not, you know, dying of consumption or whatever. 

Jared’s here, talking to some poor unsuspecting girl that Evan doesn’t recognize from any of his classes but thinks he’s seen around school. She looks uncomfortable. 

Evan’s got half a mind to just go and rescue this poor girl, but he reminds himself that it wouldn’t go down well. He doesn’t even know her and he doesn’t need to make school any harder for himself. 

You know, now that everything thinks he’s gay. 

There have been so many slurs written on his locker he’s gotten a little desensitized to it. He might take it a bit more seriously if people could fucking  _ spell _ . 

After about five mushroom and leek filos and two bottles of water, Evan really needs to pee. He lets Connor know where he’s going, then makes his way to the bathroom. 

This is a whole new fancy ballroom place, so he takes a while to find it.

Once he’s finished peeing and heads out, he gets completely turned around trying to figure out where the fuck he is. He’s genuinely about to text Connor for assistance when he hears sobbing. 

It takes Evan a moment, but he finds the source of the sound. 

He’s more than a little taken aback to find that it’s Zoe. She’s got makeup running down her cheeks and she doesn’t seem to have noticed him. 

He moves around the corner so he’s out of her line of sight and considers his next move. 

A large part of him really doesn’t want to deal with Zoe right now. They haven’t spoken since their date. Since she called him a retarded faggot.

Since she called Connor Quitter. 

Fuck, that still pisses him off. She doesn’t fucking owe Evan anything, but Connor is her brother. Her brother, who tried to kill himself. 

That nickname is awful from anyone. Evan knows how much it hurts Connor. 

How much more must it have hurt, coming from his own sister?

Connor keeps saying that Evan doesn’t know because he doesn’t have siblings, and, well, he’s probably not wrong. 

If Connor saw Zoe crying, he’d do something. 

He’d want Evan to do something. 

Fuck. 

Evan heads back to the men’s room. Grabs a bunch of paper towels from the dispenser, then makes his way back to where Zoe’s crying. Sits down next to her on a bench and hands her the napkins.

She looks at him blankly, like he’s from outer space or whatever. 

“You, uh, y-you have… m-makeup,” he manages to say. “On your face.”

Zoe takes a paper towel. Blots her face. It doesn’t really do a lot, because she’s still crying. 

Evan feels his chest ache a little. 

He doesn’t really know what to say. 

What to do. 

“D-do you want me to go get you some w-water?” he offers. 

Zoe shakes her head. 

Evan just sits there for a while. 

He has… no fucking clue what he’s supposed to do. What happens next. 

There’s a part of him that genuinely misses how things used to be with Zoe. They were friends. Sure, Evan was a little afraid of her and had to lie and pretend to be someone else, but they were friends. They were  _ something _ . 

He doesn’t like seeing her upset. 

“Do I need to k-kick someone’s ass?” he jokes weakly. 

Zoe laughs a little. Shakes her head. Wipes her face. “I’m fine,” she says. 

Evan raises his eyebrows. “Sure.”

Zoe looks at the floor. “You don’t have to be nice to me.”

Evan shrugs. “You’re obviously upset about s-something,” he says quietly. “I don’t like that you’re upset.”

Zoe snorts. Wipes her face again. “You must be loving this,” she says bitterly. “You must think I deserve this or something-”

Something about what she’s saying is making him a little worried. “Did something happen? I saw you with Brian Harris earlier, he d-didn’t h-hurt you, did he?”

“No,” Zoe says, so quickly that Evan feels like it can’t possibly be true. “He didn’t do anything.” She takes another napkin and carefully dabs under her eyes, fixing her makeup a little. She sighs. Looks at him. Her eyes are red, which makes sense because she’s been crying, and kind of… hazy. 

She’s on something, Evan realizes. 

He’s not sure what, but it’s… something. 

She laughs humorlessly. “I can’t believe you’re being so nice to me after everything I did to you.” Her shoulders sag. “I really fucked it up, didn’t I.”

Evan doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t.

Zoe sighs. Wipes her face again. “I meant to apologize,” she says, a little awkwardly. “I was… totally off my face that night at the party, I said some things I shouldn’t have.”

He looks at her, nodding for her to continue. 

She looks… annoyed. 

Like she’s pissed off at the implication he’s making her say it. 

“I shouldn’t have called you a fag in front of everyone,” she says after a moment. “That was… really fucking uncool of me.”

Evan feels this weird ringing in his ears. “You shouldn’t have called Connor Quitter, either,” he points out. “That was… incredibly cruel of you.”

Zoe recoils, like he’s hit her. She looks at Evan, frowning deeply. 

“So you  _ are  _ fucking my brother,” she says bitterly. “Wow, okay then. Guess I got the fag bit right.”

Evan clenches his jaw. He can hear the blood rushing in his ears. 

“You are so fucking self-involved it’s unbelievable.”

Zoe glares at him. “Fuck you.”

Evan glares right back, his heart beating far too fast. “Isn’t your whole problem with me is that I wouldn’t?”

Zoe’s cheeks turn bright red.

Evan knows he’s just making whatever’s upsetting her worse. Knows that this is so incredibly unhelpful, but he just can’t deal with this. He’s been carrying this around for weeks, he can’t talk about it with anyone and it all spills out. 

“If it had been me,” he says icily, “pushing you for s-something you weren’t r-ready for, y-you’d h-hate me for it. B-b-but because I’m a guy, you think it’s okay to j-just… push past my boundaries like that?”

Zoe rolls her eyes. “You’re a  _ guy _ ,” she says, like he’s some kind of idiot. “Guys want sex. If they’re fucking normal.” She wipes her face. “Don’t blame me for not being enough of a man to seal the deal.”

Evan just stares at her for a moment. 

He’s so fucking mad he doesn’t know what to say. 

Zoe fixes him with a look. “I didn’t even like you anyway,” she says, and it’s an obvious, blatant lie that’s almost painful to watch. “I only paid you any attention because I’ve known Heidi since I was a kid. She asked me to look out for you and I figured if I threw you a pity date, you might actually learn how to act like a fucking human being.”

“B-bullshit,” Evan says instantly. “N-no one b-begs for a pity date.”

Zoe’s face is even redder. “Asshole.”

“You told the whole fucking school I’m gay when I’m not,” Evan shoots back. “Called me a retarded faggot. And-and I can take that, I...” He swallows hard. “I’m used to p-people being cruel to me.” He fixes Zoe with a look. “But what you called  _ Connor- _ ”

“Everyone calls him that,” Zoe says, but her voice is shaky and quiet. “It’s just a joke-”

“If you think making a joke about your brother’s suicide attempt is funny, then I’m r-really fucking glad I didn’t sleep with you.”

Zoe’s eyes fill with tears instantly. 

Part of Evan wants to take it back, because he really doesn’t enjoy seeing Zoe crying. Doesn’t enjoy the idea that he made her cry. 

A bigger part of him is just… done. 

He stands up. Leaves the rest of the paper towels on the bench next to her. 

Leaves without looking back. 

It takes a little while, but he finally finds his way back to the ballroom. Connor’s eyes widen when he sees him, then he frowns immediately. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Got lost,” Evan mumbles. “This place is t-too big.”

Connor’s frown deepens. “No, seriously, what’s-”

“It’s n-n-not s-something I c-c-can t-t-talk about,” he manages to stammer out. “N-not n-now, okay? Not… n-not here.”

Connor looks like he very badly wants to argue. But eventually, he nods. 

Evan’s hands are shaking. 

He lets Connor get them both a drink. 

He kind of fucking needs one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "Thriller" by Fall Out Boy.


	38. I Don’t Want To Love You If Love Leaves Me This Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan and Connor listen to a song in a diner. Zoe's not impressed with Sabrina's date.

So objectively Connor knows Evan shouldn’t be drinking. He’s underage and on probation but Connor has to do  _ something  _ and what he can do is get them both a drink. 

He needs something to do with his hands anyway. 

Evan looks pissed off and freaked out and Connor hates it. He hates it so much it actually hurts his heart. Makes it beat erratically against his ribs. 

Connor doesn’t push for details no matter how much he wants to. 

Evan will explain when he’s ready. 

Or he won’t. Connor never fucking knows with him. 

Connor appreciates him being here more than he can even say. Appreciates more that he seems to understand why Connor is hanging around the bar during the cocktail hour. Making sure his mom isn’t drinking. Connor had half a mind to ask the bartender not to serve her. To pay the guy off. 

But he couldn’t pull the trigger. 

He’s too scared of what she would do if she found him out. 

Pathetic. He’s not actually afraid of his  _ mom,  _ is he? 

The event is actually going okay it seems. The snatches of conversation that Connor has overheard have mostly been Newport moms begrudgingly admitting that his mom seems to have pulled it off. 

Because they wanted her to fail. 

What a bunch of assholes. 

He hasn’t really seen Zoe around. He knows she’s here. He saw her once, briefly talking to Brian Harris, but she’s since disappeared. 

Connor hates this. He hates being so worried about her. 

It’s not like she’s ever worried about him back. 

All the women in his life suck, Connor thinks sulkily. No wonder he’s gay. 

Evan drinks his drink kind of quickly and Connor pushes his toward Evan. 

“I drove here anyway,” he says. 

Evan takes the drink gratefully. 

“You sure you’re okay?”

Evan sighs. Takes another sip of his drink. Swats disdainfully at one of the many many balloons floating around the bar. 

“My mom has only been drinking water,” Connor says sort of nervously. 

“Good,” Evan says, frowning. 

Connor wants to say he’s glad she’s not embarrassing herself. He wants to say that his mom never actually stopped drinking so he’s honestly surprised by this turn of events. He wants to ask Evan what the fuck happened on his way to or from the bathroom because Connor isn’t stupid and he knows it was something. 

But he doesn’t. He just sits there and chews the inside of his cheek and wishes he had the power to read minds. 

Dinner is finally served. Connor picks at his, and Evan does the same. Finishes Connor’s drink and, with a careful glance at Connor, orders another drink from one of the wait staff. 

Connor doesn’t really mind. Honestly Evan deserves to relax. He sort of worries about Evan’s probation and random drug testing. 

But Evan seemed upset when he got back from the bathroom. And Connor doesn’t know how to make him talk so instead he just keeps quiet. 

Sits beside Evan. 

As dinner ends and plates of chocolate-covered strawberries start doing the rounds, Evan sort of frowns at the floral arrangement in the center of the table. “I don’t get Valentine’s Day,” he says, frowning. 

Connor blinks in surprise. “What’s not to get? It’s like… you know. About love or whatever.” Not that Connor knows a whole hell of a lot about romantic love or whatever. He’s been nursing a pathetic crush on his best friend for months. Before that was the Miguel disaster. But in theory… Connor gets it. 

Evan snorts. “That m-makes even less sense.”

Connor grins a little, like Evan’s fucking with him. “Seriously?”

“Love… d-doesn’t make any sense. Like. It’s n-not logical.” Evan shakes his head. Finishes his drink. “Like… why would evolution allow for a-a…. a thing that makes people act l-like. Stupid. And rash.”

Connor smiles. “Stupid and rash. Definitely not something you’re familiar with.”

Evan rolls his eyes. “That’s different. Anger… makes sense.”

“Is that so?” Connor says with a grin. 

“Anger is logical.”

Connor laughs. 

“Hey. Don’t laugh. Anger… is a thing. It makes sense it follows, like, reason, and whatever. Love is… weird and stupid and I don’t get it.”

“So, what, you don’t love anybody?” Connor says. 

He doesn’t know why. 

It’s a stupid thing to say. 

Evan’s cheeks go pink. “I… I. I mean. I-I…”

“Forget it, ignore me, I’m talking out of my ass...”

But Evan is just looking at Connor like he’s never seen him before in his life. Connor feels his cheeks heat up with embarrassment and he looks away awkwardly. 

* * *

Evan feels… weird. Kind of strange, kind of…

“I loved my mom,” he says, and he’s almost surprised at the words coming out of his mouth. “And she told me she loved me all the time. Every day. But she still left, so…”

Connor looks back at him. His face is so fucking sad. 

“I know that I’m not b-being fair,” Evan continues, despite the voice in his head shouting at him to shut his damn mouth. “That logically it isn’t about me, that she was  _ sick  _ and n-needed help that she couldn’t afford to get.” He shrugs. “Maybe she did love me? But she still left. And-and, like, your p-parents are  _ supposed  _ to love you, she was just d-doing what she was supposed to do. But my dad couldn’t even manage that, so…”

Connor’s blinking rapidly, like he’s trying not to cry. “Evan…”

“I d-don’t even know if I know what love is,” Evan continues, this stupid train of thoughts just refusing to stop going, the words refusing to stop spilling out. “And-and m-maybe I can’t? M-maybe I’m just this… void where love is supposed to be. My m-mom left and my d-dad just didn’t care and I’m the common fucking denominator here.” He shrugs. “And I was so little? I was… so little when Mom died, and even littler when Dad left the first time, so…” He takes a sip of his drink. Doesn’t look at Connor. “I f-feel like there’s something wrong with me. That I’m b-broken or something. And-and-and it’s j-just how I am, b-because p-people started leaving me before I was even a proper person, you know? So… so deep down, somewhere in the c-core of who I am, I don’t…”

Connor’s shaking his head. “That isn’t true, that-”

“And if I c-can’t get that right, then how am I ever going to be n-normal?” Evan interrupts, a little desperately. “I sp-spend all this time trying and I can’t even… I-I-I c-can’t even do the… the th-things I’m supposed to d-do because I’m a fucking teenage boy, I just…” 

And just as suddenly as the words started spilling out, the floodgates close. 

Evan closes his mouth. 

Keeps it closed. 

He can’t talk about his disastrous hook-up with Zoe. Not with Connor. 

She’s his sister, fucking hell. 

He drank too much. 

Fuck. 

He’s not making any goddamn sense, and Connor is looking at him like he’s just said and done something completely insane, like he’s gotten up on the table and fucking tap danced or some shit, fuck. 

He sighs. Looks at the centerpiece. 

Changes tactics, the best his slightly drunk mind can allow. 

“Valentine's Day is j-just commercial bullshit anyway,” he mutters. “And-and okay, maybe I d-don’t  _ get  _ love or whatever, but I’m pretty sure you can’t buy it. You can’t…” He looks around the room. “There are all these assholes here who are p-probably cheating on their wives but as long as they get chocolates and flowers and fucking  _ diamonds  _ or whatever, that d-doesn’t matter. And they’ll t-tell their wives ‘I love you’ then g-go around and fuck someone else.” He looks at his now empty glass. “I know I don’t get love, and I know that I’m like… a loveless void or whatever, but at least I’m n-not saying it when I don’t mean it.” He swallows hard. “I couldn’t do that. Not with… that.”

Connor’s looking at him strangely. “Yeah?”

Evan looks right back at him. “I’m a liar,” he tells him point-blank. “And a fake and a fraud. I know that. It’s j-just part of who I am. But I can’t say ‘I love you’ if I’m not one hundred percent sure that I mean it. And-and how c-can I know if I mean it if I don’t even know what it m-means?” 

Connor’s eyes are wide, that strange expression still on his face. 

Evan can’t keep looking at him. Can’t bear to meet his eyes. 

He looks at the centerpiece again, which is admittedly very pretty. 

“It might be the one thing I know I can never lie about.”

* * *

Connor’s face feels weirdly hot. 

He doesn’t really know  _ why.  _

Just that his heart is pounding hard in his chest and his stupid fucking brain is shaking around the things Evan is saying and trying to figure them out but part of him is freaking out because. 

Evan’s told him he can’t lie to Connor. 

And that’s. 

No. There’s no way. 

That is  _ not  _ what Evan is saying. Not at all. No, Connor’s just. Wishful thinking. 

That is obviously not what Evan’s saying. 

He just. 

Connor feels like. Weird and wrong and like maybe the fact that he even briefly thought, incorrectly, that Evan was talking about love the same way he talks about Connor is written all over his fucking face. 

Fuck. 

Maybe he shouldn’t have stopped drinking. 

Connor clears his throat. 

“You’re not a fraud,” he says quietly. 

Evan lets out a humorless laugh. “Oh sure. I’m  _ so  _ genuine. That’s why everyone thinks I’m from  _ Seattle _ .” 

Connor glances around to make sure nobody is listening. It seems nobody is. 

He forces himself to look back at Evan. “You’re not, okay? You’re not a… fake or whatever.”

Evan rolls his eyes. 

“Not with me,” Connor says. “You’re always real with me.”

Evan’s face totally closes off. “Yeah,” he says distantly. 

Connor feels like he’s said the wrong thing. Totally stepped in it. 

Maybe Evan’s not as real with Connor as he claims to be. 

Maybe Connor’s just making him uncomfortable because that’s what he does. He should specialize in that. Is there a major in college in making people want to exit a conversation? If there is, that should be Connor’s. 

Fuck. 

Fuck fuck. 

Part of Connor is still scrambling to save this, somehow, even though he’s not totally sure how he fucked it up. “What about… what about Zoe? Didn’t you, like, have a thing for her?” He says stupidly. 

Evan stares at him. 

“I just mean. Like. Didn’t you like. Hope that. If it went okay that you’d feel safe, like, being honest with her?”

Evan shrugs. “I h-have no idea what I wanted with her anymore.” He says it darkly, like he’s angry, and damn it, Connor is making it worse. He just keeps making it worse. 

“But you had to hope that-”

“I don’t know, okay? It never… went anywhere. And I-I was fooling myself anyway because she’s… she’s not who I thought she was so.”

Well, who the hell _did_ Evan think Zoe was? 

Connor feels weirdly defensive of his sister. She’s kind of a bitch but she’s not  _ that  _ bad. She’s lovable, in her own sort of… saccharine way. 

“Did I do something to piss you off?” Connor says sort of desperately. “If I did, I’m sorry, I’m an idiot and I didn’t mean to just…”

He trails off. 

Evan’s just looking at the centerpiece. Connor did this one. He remembers because they’d mixed some white roses into this one and Connor had stuck them in the middle to try to make it look like it was on purpose. 

“I’m not mad at you,” Evan says, still staring at the flowers. “I’m just… mad.”

Connor nods. 

Bites his lip. 

“Look… I don’t know if it helps… but. Evan. Your parents… just because they fucked up with you doesn’t mean that. That it’s your fault or-or something wrong with you, okay? Parents are just… just as fucked up as everyone else.”

Evan doesn’t respond. 

“I mean. Look at mine? They hate each other but they’re still married and I have no idea why. And my mom? She kind of… had a thing for someone else the whole time they’ve been married. And like. She doesn’t like me or whatever. Do you think that’s because there is something wrong with  _ me? _ ”

Connor’s trying to be comforting and use himself as an example but. 

Suddenly he wants to know. Honestly. 

Does Evan think that there is something wrong with him? To make his mom hate him? 

He suddenly, desperately wants to know what Evan thinks of him. 

If he’s the fucked up party in his family’s mess. 

“I mean… I just… is it me? Do you think?”

* * *

Evan doesn’t even have to think about his answer. 

“No.”

Connor looks at him, something like a question in his expression. 

Evan looks right at him. Doesn’t break eye contact the whole time. “There is  _ nothing  _ wrong with you.” 

Connor raises his eyebrows. His cheeks are a little pink. “I mean, that’s debatable,” he says, in this fake light tone. “I’m gay and crazy, so-”

“You’re not crazy,” Evan says firmly. “And-and there’s nothing  _ wrong  _ with being gay, fuck.” He ignores the weird, cold feeling in his chest when he says that, tries to ignore the image in his head of his dad towering over him at thirteen, drunk and angry. 

_ “You turn out to be a faggot, I’ll fucking kill you.” _

His dad is _wrong._

He’s the one that’s wrong. 

“There is nothing wrong with you,” Evan continues. “You’re, like, so awesome? And y-you are so smart and you care so much and  _ you’re  _ not all f-fucked up about sex, you actually let p-people…” He swallows hard. Blinks a few times. His eyes are itchy and he feels weird. “You… with Reg and with Miguel, you… that’s  _ normal _ , that’s what you’re fucking s-supposed to be able to do, you…” He lets out this shaky sigh. Realizes suddenly that he’s being super fucking weird. “I’m not trying to say that you’re a  _ slut _ , fucking hell, I just…” He shrugs. Looks at Connor a little desperately. “I f-f-f-freaked out. I f-freaked out and I p-p-panicked and I d-d-d-d-d-didn’t… I c-c-c-c-couldn’t and I-I-I-I’m supposed to, I’m s-supposed to…” He looks at the centerpiece again. “Zoe was right, I’m n-not normal.”

Connor doesn’t say anything. 

Just… total silence. 

Evan’s fucked up. 

He’s fucked up so fucking badly he should not be talking about this, he shouldn’t even be thinking about this but he’s freaking out, he’s freaking out all over again and it hurts to breathe because he’s thinking about how fast it all happened and how it was okay until it wasn’t and he hurt her he upset her and ruined everything, turned Zoe into an awful horrible monster and got Connor hurt as a result, and this is exactly why he shouldn’t be fucking trusted with this shit. 

“I know you d-don’t want to hear this,” Evan mumbles. “Y-y-you d-d-don’t want to hear about me and your s-sister.”

Connor’s still quiet. Evan looks at him, and there’s something like realization on his face. 

“You ran into Zoe on your way to the bathroom,” Connor says quietly. “That’s why you’re upset.”

Evan feels his shoulders sag. “Yeah.”

“You’re upset,” Connor continues, like he’s trying to process it, “because you had a bad date with my sister and she... got mad when you wouldn’t have sex with her?”

“We don’t have to t-talk-”

“You said you freaked out,” Connor interrupts, and he’s frowning. “What do you mean by that?”

Evan shakes his head. “We’re d-done talking about this.” 

He stands up. Immediately regrets it, because he’s drunker than he thought. 

Powers through and makes his way out of the fancy ballroom and toward the exit, which at least this time he can find. 

Fuck. 

Just… fuck. 

Connor probably hates him. Thinks he’s such a fucking idiot. 

Is probably pissed off about hearing Evan talk about having sex with his sister, fucking hell. Even though they didn’t. 

Connor’s always saying that Evan doesn’t have siblings so he doesn’t know, he doesn’t understand this, and Evan knows he’s right. 

Why the fuck would he even  _ begin  _ to  tell Connor about Zoe about their date and how bad it was? Why would he even allude to the fact that Zoe…

Just, like, shoved her hand down his pants then got mad at him for freaking out. 

Evan wasn’t lying when he told Zoe that if their positions were reversed, if a guy had just shoved his hand down a girl’s pants, that would be, like… not great, but he’s not… 

He hadn’t wanted it and she’d done it anyway and hadn’t even asked and it had freaked him out and somehow it’s his fault and he can’t talk to anyone about it, anyone who’ll understand. 

He can’t talk to Connor about this. Either he’ll get mad at Zoe and that’ll make things worse between them, or he’ll just… laugh at Evan and tell him he’s being an idiot. 

There’s no way to win this. 

No way at all. 

And he’s a fucking idiot who just opened the lid on a can of worms and ruined fucking everything. 

When he gets to the exit, the valet is standing there in his uniform. It’s the same guy from cotillion and the fashion show. He looks at Evan and smiles a little. 

“Oh hey,” he says, something friendly in his tone. “You’re Connor’s friend, right?”

_ I fucking hope so _ , Evan thinks to himself. 

“Yeah,” Evan replies. He tries to think back if he remembers this guy’s name, but he really doesn’t. He extends his hand in what he hopes is a professional, not-drunk-and-stupid manner. “I’m Evan.”

“Eric,” says the guy, taking the handshake with a smile. He’s got a nice smile, Evan thinks. Dimples. 

Reminds him a bit of Miguel. 

Fuck that guy. 

“You doing okay in there?” asks Eric sympathetically. “Connor always says these events are boring as fuck.”

“They’re n-not my f-favorite,” Evan admits, hating how his stutter won’t just fucking go away. “I, uh… I d-d-d-d-don’t…”

He trails away, embarrassed. 

Eric tilts his head, like he’s trying to figure things out. 

“You don’t really belong here, do you?”

Evan stares at him. “Wh-wh-wh-wh-”

Eric winces. “That made me sound like such an asshole, sorry.” He looks genuinely apologetic. “I just… I’m a valet, dude. I park these people’s cars. I don’t exactly belong with all the rich folk, but I’m around them a lot. A whole lot. And I can kind of see when someone’s… you know, clearly not from around here.”

Fuck. 

Fucking hell. 

This guy knows. He knows that Evan’s a fraud, he  _ knows.  _

“You’re Heidi Herzberg’s nephew, right?” 

Evan nods. “Yup,” he lies. “That’s me.”

Eric smiles. “Heidi and David are basically the nicest people in this whole place,” he says, like he’s telling a secret. “David was a really good dude.”

Evan nods. “Yeah,” he says, because if he’s Heidi’s nephew, then obviously he must have known David. 

He really fucking tries not to talk about David as much as he can. 

“Heidi didn’t grow up here,” Eric says conversationally. “No one lets her forget it, either.” He looks at Evan. “Let me guess - wherever you’re from is nothing like this, right?”

“Not even a little bit,” Evan confesses. It’s really nice to be telling the truth for a change. “I h-h-helped Connor and his m-mom set up and… salad forks? Th-they look the s-same as any other f-fucking fork.”

Eric laughs. “Not gonna argue,” he says with a smile. 

He’s got nice eyes, Evan notices. Sympathetic. Something genuine in them. 

“Do I r-r-really st-stick out that b-bad?” Evan asks suddenly. 

Eric smiles. “Not as much as you think you do,” he says honestly. “I only notice because most of my job is standing around. I do a lot of people watching.” He frowns a little, then continues. “Honestly, Evan? If you do stick out, most people aren’t going to notice because they’re too busy worrying about themselves.”

Something in Evan’s chest untwists a little. “Really?”

Eric nods. “Oh yeah. Everyone here feels like a fraud. Everyone’s terrified someone’s going to see that they don’t feel like they belong.” He smiles again, a big smile that shows off his dimples. “I don’t know if that helps, but…”

Evan considers. 

“It actually does,” he says after a moment. “Thank you.”

Eric smiles. Looks at him with this assessing gaze that’s a little overwhelming. “I like you,” he says after a moment. “It’s good for Connor to have someone in his corner. He’s a really good dude.” 

“Yeah,” Evan says, feeling his cheeks turn pink. His chest aches a little. “Connor is… s-so great.”

Eric nods. His smile drops a little. “He doesn’t have it easy,” he says, a little sadly. “People are assholes to him. Always have been. Back in his freshman year-”

Evan can’t bear to talk about that. “I know.” 

Eric blinks. His face softens. There’s something almost hesitant in his tone. Almost pleading. “You’re looking out for him, right?” 

He doesn’t even have to think about it. “Yes,” he says, and his voice doesn’t shake at all. 

Eric nods. “Good,” he says with a smile. “That’s really fucking good.” He turns a little. Looks over Evan’s shoulders and grins. Evan turns around to see Connor approaching. 

“Hey Connor,” Eric says happily. “Just getting to know your friend here.”

Connor’s at Evan’s side barely a second later, this concerned frown on his face. He’s clearly trying to smile, but it doesn’t land. “Hey Eric.”

Eric’s smile fades. He looks at Connor. “Want me to get your car?”

Connor nods. “Yeah. Thanks.”

* * *

Connor watches Evan go. He doesn’t know what to do. He fucked up, he’s fucked this up and he doesn’t even know how or why or…

Fuck. 

Evan’s been drinking. 

They should leave. 

Connor doesn’t want to be here. 

He looks around for his mom. Figures he should at least say goodbye before he goes. 

He spots his mom getting a bottle of water from the bar, chatting with Sabrina Patel’s mother and Jenny Kleinman. Connor approaches cautiously, and notices his dad is lingering nearby. Watching her. 

He looks at Connor with tired eyes. “Hey bud,” he says. “She’s been good tonight.”

“Yeah,” Connor says, looking off toward his mom. She looks happy. She’s smiling and her eyes sparkle and she’s acting like she’s holding court. 

Back to normal then. 

“You can probably escape if you want,” His dad says. “Don’t know where your sister disappeared off to, but you’ve made your appearance. You can get out of here.”

Connor smiles gratefully. “Thanks.”

His dad reaches into his suit pocket and pulls out his wallet. Hands Connor a couple of twenties. “Go take Evan to go and get some real food, yeah?”

Connor takes the money. Nods. 

He has no appetite and Evan’s pissed off at him, but food would probably be good for him. “Thanks, dad,” Connor says, and his dad claps him on the shoulder and tells him to get away while he can. 

Connor catches a snatch of his mother’s conversation as he heads out. She’s telling the drama of the floral arrangements to Lisa Patel and Jenny Kleinman. “They were hideous when they arrived. Sloppy work, I’ll be having a word with the company. I ended up needing to rearrange them all by hand myself.” 

Connor stills just for a moment. 

Waits for her mom to mention that, you know, it was his idea. Or at least that he helped. 

“How did you get all of that done and still manage to look so stunning?” Lisa Patel asks, laying it on way too thick. Apparently now that his mom is back on top, Lisa is back to kissing her ass. 

“Oh, I’d never reveal my secrets,” His mom says with a little wink and… 

Connor kind of feels like punching something. 

Fuck her. She’s such a bitch. 

Connor shoves his hands into his pockets and heads outside to look for Evan. Knowing him, dumbass will try to like  _ walk  _ home or something. 

Instead, he spots Evan talking with Eric. 

Connor always did like Eric. He’s a good guy. 

“Hey Connor,” Eric says, smiling as Connor approaches. “Just getting to know your friend here.”

Connor pauses at Evan’s side. He does his best to smile but he’s mostly just looking at Evan, worrying about him, because he doesn’t seem great and Connor hates it. “Hey Eric.”

Eric’s not smiling anymore. “Want me to get your car?”

Connor nods gratefully. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Eric nods and heads off, leaving Evan and Connor alone on the sidewalk. “Dude I’m sorry,” Connor says in a rush. “I didn’t mean to, like, push or upset you or…”

“I’m fine,” Evan says even though he is very clearly not fine. 

Connor presses his lips together. Eric returns with his car, and they get in. Connor makes sure he tips Eric and then feelings fucking weird about tipping someone who he, like, knows, but he also knows Eric is working his way through college so he doesn’t really feel that weird about it. 

Once they’re in the car, Connor asks Evan if he wants to get food. 

Evan sighs. “You can just drop me home.”

“Oh,” Connor says sort of hollowly. 

“I just d-don’t want you to hate me,” Evan blurts out, like he’s been chewing on it for a while. 

“What?” Connor says, so fucking confused. “Why would I hate you? I could never hate you.”

“Because I-I-I went out with your s-sister and f-f-f-fucked it up because I’m all f-fucked up and you d-d-don’t want to t-talk about me and your sister and -”

“Dude,” Connor interrupts because he cannot let Evan just like. Totally spiral here. He pulls the car over to the side of the road and turns on his hazards. “Look I. I’m not  _ mad  _ you went out with Zoe and it didn’t go great, okay? I’m just… it seems like it’s, I dunno, still bothering you and, sure, it’s not my favorite conversation topic but like… You can talk to me.”

Evan shakes his head. “N-no, I c-can’t, I c-c-can’t, she’s-she’s your s-s-s-sister -”

“You said you freaked out,” Connor says patiently, kind of ignoring Evan’s protests. “Did she like…  _ do _ something?”

Connor’s kind of grasping at straws but like he doesn’t fucking know. Maybe Zoe, like, bit his dick or something. He doesn’t know. But Evan’s face is pale and he looks embarrassed as fuck so Connor thinks he might be onto something. 

“I c-can’t talk about this with you.”

“Is it because she’s my sister?” Connor says slowly. “Or because you think… I’m like. I dunno. Some kind of casanova because I’ve had sex before?”

Evan’s mouth drops open. 

His face is bright red. 

“Th-that… that-that’s  _ normal.  _ N-n-normal p-p-p-p-people can just-just d-do that and-and-and I…. I’m n-not… I c-c-c-c-couldn’t and… I cannot be talking to you about this because she’s your s-s-s-sister.”

Connor sighs. 

He can’t believe he’s saying this. 

Connor turns to look out the windshield. “Dude,” he says sort of weakly. “You’re fine. It’s not, like, weird that you weren’t, like, ready to bang someone on your  _ first date. _ ”

“But -”

“And just because I’ve  _ had  _ sex doesn’t mean I’ve always been, like,  _ okay _ with it or whatever?” Connor shakes his head. “I mean. You saw how fucked up I was after D.C., like, just because I’ve done it doesn’t mean that it’s always been, like, awesome or whatever and… At the risk of sounding like Alana Beck… guys actually do have, like, fucking  _ feelings _ or whatever. It’s not, like, weird to be nervous or, like, not ready? It’s not weird or wrong to fucking care about that shit. And if Zoe’s being a bitch about that… then she’s a bitch. And I’m sorry.”

* * *

Evan doesn’t know what to say.

What to do. 

He feels like a total fucking freak, but Connor’s… 

Being super fucking nice about this. 

Way too fucking nice, considering that Evan is a freak and this is his sister they’re talking about. 

“She-she was so up-upset,” he manages to stammer out. “And-and I d-d-didn’t want to up-upset her b-but I…”

He closes his eyes. 

Rests his head against the window. 

It’s nice and cool. 

Fuck, he is way drunker than he should be. 

_ Fucking pussy, _ the voice in his head taunts him.  _ You barely had like four drinks, you wimpy little shit, and now you’re being a little bitch about a hot chick touching your junk, what the fuck is wrong with you. _

“I just didn’t expect it,” Evan says quietly. He’s so tired. So drained all of a sudden. “One moment I w-was okay, and the n-next she was t-touching me and th-there was n-n-n-n-no warning or an-anything and-and-and I j-just…” He sniffs. “It didn’t feel r-right. I d-didn’t… it w-was t-too f-fast and it w-was like…” He shrugs, feeling like a total fucking dickhead. “I wasn’t ready.”

Connor doesn’t say anything. 

Evan keeps his eyes closed. 

“I’m really fucking sorry,” Connor says after a while. His voice is even, almost a deliberate kind of even. “I meant what I said. It’s okay to not be ready.”

“Right,” Evan says dismissively. “If I w-wasn’t so f-fucked up…”

It’s quiet a little longer. 

When Connor finally speaks again, Evan kind of wishes he hadn’t. 

“Not to be all weird or whatever,” Connor begins, his voice cautious, “but is there, like, some kind of…” He pauses. Evan hears him sigh. “Did something, like, happen when you were younger? To make you… more cautious or whatever? About shit like that?”

“You mean aside from my mom killing herself and my dad beating the shit out of me?” 

Wow. 

Not a trace of a stutter on that one. 

_ Fuck _ , he’s an asshole. 

Connor’s quiet, and he sounds so fucking apologetic when he speaks next. His voice barely above a whisper. “You know what I’m asking, dude.”

Evan sighs. 

“Nothing h-happened,” he says, too tired to lie. “But, like…” He shrugs. “I d-don’t know, I got a w-weird v-vibe from one of my f-foster families? The g-guy was really t-touchy and I-I-I never liked it which was dumb because my m-mom always hugged me a lot when I was little and then it just… stopped and I g-guess I’m just, like, fucked up a-about people touching me, especially wh-when I d-don’t expect it.” He shrugs again. “But it’s not, like…” He sighs. “I didn’t g-get stuck with a pedophile or wh-whatever. To my knowledge.”

Connor’s quiet again. 

Evan finally feels brave enough to open his eyes, but not quite brave enough to look at Connor. 

“It makes sense,” Connor says gently after a while. “To need, like, a head’s up.” He sighs. “And it sure as  _ fuck  _ doesn’t make you broken, okay?”

Evan doesn’t know if he believes him. 

* * *

Evan keeps resting his head against the window. After a little while, he says in this soft, embarrassed voice, “I’m… I’m drunker than I should be.”

Connor says, “Okay.”

“Did you… st-still want to… to g-get food?” 

Connor lets out a relieved breath. “Yeah. That would be good.” He chews his lip, considering. “We could go to that diner? They’re open 24 hours a day. Might be good if we got some real food into you. Sober you up before you go home.”

Evan nods. 

Connor turns off his hazards and pulls back out onto the main road. 

He feels like such a shithead. He doesn’t think he’s made any of this any better for Evan. He might have actually made it worse, honestly, he doesn’t know. 

Fuck. 

He feels bad for the guy. 

He’s all twisted up about this date he had with Zoe because… his sister is some kind of horndog who tried to get with Evan on their first date and  _ Evan  _ wasn’t ready. 

Connor can’t deny that he’s a little surprised. He just assumed since Evan had been panting after Zoe for so long that whatever happened between them had been more of an issue of circumstances than willingness. 

Connor also can’t deny that he’s still pretty glad Evan didn’t fuck his sister. For totally normal, completely platonic reasons. 

Connor can fucking tell that Evan’s probably being a little vague about the details in part because this is Zoe they are talking about. And Connor does appreciate not having Evan, like, describing what he and Zoe got up to on their date. But Connor is also not an idiot, and he suspects some of the editing has less to do with not grossing Connor out and not pissing him off. 

Connor thinks Evan might be sort of protecting Zoe here. 

He doesn’t really get it. 

But he can respect it, he supposes. 

They arrive at the diner, and Connor asks if they can get a booth for two. Their waitress bustles over happily with a pot of coffee not long after, and Connor and Evan both nod when she offers it to them. Evan drinks his with a little cream and two sugars. Connor decides to mimic him, just for the sake of trying new things, and he’s happy to report the coffee is sort of perfect like that. 

Evan stares down at his menu. He’s still blushing. Connor wishes for the hundredth time that he hadn’t pushed so hard. Obviously this shit is hard for Evan to talk about. It’s not cool of him to just… push him. 

Connor’s an asshole. 

He ends up ordering some soup, and Evan gets blueberry pancakes (which makes Connor smile). They slurp their coffees and it’s quiet. Just them and the waitress and the radio playing softly. 

It takes Connor a moment to place the song that they’re playing, but then he smiles when he realizes. He loves this song. He’s loved it since he was a little kid. He just hasn’t heard it in a long time. 

Made him want to take up the guitar. But he had a hard time reading music and wasn’t great with strumming, so those lessons were handed over to Zoe. 

But Connor likes this song. 

“Fast Car,” by Tracy Chapman. 

This song is… so fucking sad. And yet, also, so full of hope even as bullshit after bullshit washes over the narrator of the song. Sad and also hopeful. Garbage circumstance but still a lot of love. 

Connor always did like this song. 

Evan’s eyes are glassy. 

He chews on his lip. “My mom… liked this song,” He volunteers softly. He looks so fucking sad. 

“Yeah?”

Evan nods slowly, his eyes drifting away from Connor. “She… she really liked this one. Always sang along with it?”

“I like that,” Connor says. They sit and listen for a while, not talking. 

_ “Maybe together we can get somewhere.”  _

Connor’s always liked that line. 

Has always wondered what it would be like to… feel that way. To find someone who makes it seem like it was possible to make yourself into someone new. 

Evan sniffles and looks horribly embarrassed. The verses start to grow sadder and the circumstances worse with each verse, and Evan’s eyes tear up suddenly as Tracy Chapman sings. 

“Fuck,” Evan whispers. “I… I forgot about this song.”

Connor nods. “It’s a good one.” He doesn’t know what else he can even say. 

“My mom listened to music a lot,” Evan practically whispers. “Before she…”

Connor wants to make it better. He doesn’t know how. “Was she a good singer? You said she’d sing along.”

Evan shrugs. “Her voice was higher than this? And like. I dunno if she always got all the notes right but she… she always meant it, you know?”

Connor nods. 

“She was always listening to something,” Evan says. “Kind of like you.”

Connor isn’t sure what to say. Part of him is flattered that Evan would compare him to someone so important in his life. There’s another part though who is very upset about being compared to Evan’s mom when Connor  _ likes  _ Evan. But mostly he just feels warm. 

Connor smiles a bit. 

“I’m so sorry she’s not around,” Connor says softly. It’s not the right thing to say. There is no right thing to say. Connor came here to try to cheer Evan up and he’s only depressing him more. There’s nothing he can do to salvage tonight. 

Evan nods. 

The song keeps playing. They get their food. Connor eats slowly, thoughtfully, his brain turning the song over and over in his mind. 

_ “And I had a feeling that I belonged. And I had a feeling that I could be someone.” _

It raises a lump in Connor’s throat. 

He watches Evan’s eyes tear up across the table. Watches a tear, then two fall. Connor swallows hard. 

And just keeps looking at Evan. 

Unable to pull his eyes away. 

* * *

Evan feels Connor looking at him. Feels his gaze, rather than sees it. 

The voice in his head is having a fucking field day right now. 

_ Stupid fucking pussy _ , the voice in his head jeers.  _ You’re a fucking loser who’s getting all stupid and emotional about literally nothing. How fucking pathetic can you get? Useless, retarded fucking asshole, crying like a baby. Go cry to your mom.  _

_ Oh wait, you can’t.  _

_ Because she’s dead.  _

He grabs a napkin quickly. Wipes his eyes. 

Closes them, and keeps them closed.

Rests his hand on the table. 

A moment later, Connor takes it in his. 

The voice in his head falls silent. 

It’s just the song, and the smell of coffee, and the feel of Connor’s hand. 

_ “And I had a feeling that I belonged. And I had a feeling that I could be someone.” _

Evan opens his eyes when the song finishes to see that Connor’s still looking at him. 

He smiles a little tentatively. A little sadly. 

Connor lets go of his hand, his cheeks pink. He goes back to his soup. 

“So,” Connor says conversationally after a while. “I know you were little, so you might not remember everything, but I think we need to, like, put together a playlist of songs your mom liked.”

Evan feels his heart leap. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Connor says with a nod. He leans in a little, like he’s telling a secret. “She liked Killing Me Softly,” he says thoughtfully. “Leonard Cohen, you mentioned that the other day. Tracy Chapman.” He gives Evan this big smile. “We’ve got somewhere to start. Anything else you remember?”

“Joni Mitchell,” Evan remembers. He thinks back. “One of my foster moms liked her, too. David Bowie.” An album cover comes to mind. “Jeff Buckley. Mom loved him. Listened to him all the time, I haven’t… I haven’t heard it in years.”

“All solid choices,” says Connor approvingly. Evan raises his eyebrows. Connor laughs. “Hey, I might be emo trash, but I appreciate the classics.”

By the time Evan finishes his pancakes, he feels… a lot better. A lot lighter. 

A lot more sober, too. 

Connor’s watching him carefully on the drive home. Evan can tell that he’s trying to not make it obvious, but he knows. 

He knows. 

Connor pulls all the way into Heidi’s driveway. All the way to the front door. 

Kinda weird, honestly. Evan’s used to just getting dropped off at the bottom of the shared driveway. Connor’s gonna have to turn around and drive down the driveway, then turn around again to go up the Murphys driveway, which is completely insane when Evan could just, like, cut through the yard, but…

It’s nice. 

Really nice. 

“Thank you for dinner,” Evan says once the car stops. “And-and listening to me and just… just being you? And being kind? I… I’m sorry I was k-kinda drunk and w-weird-”

“You were fine,” Connor assures him. “You’re the one who did me a massive favor by coming along to this shindig in the first place.”

Evan smiles at him. “Of course,” he says quietly. “Anything for you, you know that.”

Connor blinks. Looks at him with this strange expression.

“I’m sorry tonight was kind of a shitshow,” Connor says after a moment. 

“It turned out okay,” Evan tells him. There’s this strange energy in the car, this strange tension. He figures he’ll break it with a joke. “You’re a much better date than your sister.”

Connor’s eyes go wide. His mouth opens a little. 

He’s still looking at Evan with this strange expression, and now his cheeks are pink.

_ Congratulations, asshole, _ the voice in his head taunts.  _ You made it weird. _

Connor laughs a little after a moment. “Don’t think it counts unless you put it in writing.”

Evan smiles. “I’ll bring a pen next time.”

Connor smiles right back. “Okay then.” His smile softens. “Sleep well, yeah?”

“You too,” Evan says. 

He gets out of the car, a little reluctantly. Goes to unlock the front door, then turns to wave at Connor. He hasn’t driven off yet, like he’s waiting to make sure Evan’s gotten into the house okay, which is… 

Adorable. 

Fucking adorable. 

_ You’re being so fucking weird, _ the voice in his head reminds him.

It’s easier to ignore that voice now. 

* * *

What the fuck Evan is trying to kill him. 

Like seriously what the fuck. 

He knows, doesn’t he?

He has to know…. how Connor feels about him. It’s fucking obvious. And even if it weren’t (which it absolutely  _ is _ ), Zoe has announced it enough times that he  _ has  _ to know. 

He knows. He knows and he’s fucking with Connor. 

Right? 

That’s gotta be what’s happening, right? He’s giving him shit for his pathetic crush and that’s what’s happening. 

Connor’s positive that’s what’s happening. 

...Except. 

That’s not who Evan is. He’s not the sort of person who sees a weakness and makes someone feel like crap. 

Except. 

When he’s angry…?

He did call Connor out about the Quitter thing when Zoe pissed him off. Pushed him to admit it. 

But he didn’t  _ seem  _ angry. He was smiling when he said Connor was a better date than Zoe. 

Connor… knows it’s stupid to go there. To let himself  _ think _ even for a second that there is even the slightest chance that Evan could possibly…

Like him. 

Like him back. 

No. There’s no fucking way. 

Connor can’t let himself go there. 

Evan was just. Joking. He’s been drinking, he’s… he doesn’t mean…

He doesn’t mean that he likes Connor. 

He doesn’t. 

He couldn’t. He’s  _ straight. _

But he said that, with Zoe, it didn’t feel right…

_ It’s not because he’s gay, _ Connor tells himself firmly. There is no way. No way in hell. Evan is clearly straight. Connor’s seen him react to girls, and only girls, because Evan is straight. 

And even if he  _ wasn’t.  _

Well, he wouldn’t be into Connor. Connor’s a mess. And he’s… weird looking. He’s huge and ugly and too big to fit. 

And Evan knows all of his shit and none of that is attractive so. 

There’s no way. 

But still. 

Connor wonders. Just a little. 

He can’t sleep that night. 

He fakes it for a little while when he hears his parents come home around one in the morning. His dad tends to look in on him, and tonight is no different. Connor pretends to be sleeping and tries to use it to actually manage to sleep. He does his best to get comfortable. To let himself just drift off. 

But he gives up after an hour or so. He just can’t make sleep come. 

So instead he gets to work on making a playlist for Evan. He adds Joni Mitchell. David Bowie. Jeff Buckley and Leonard Cohen. He adds tracks by Tracy Chapman and then sits there and listens to “Fast Car” again. 

Remembers the way Evan looked as the song played in the diner earlier. How he looked so sad but… he took Connor’s hand. 

Like maybe he wasn’t so sad. That Connor was there with him. 

Connor calls the playlist “Margaret.”

He can’t think of a better title. 

* * *

“Can I let you in on a secret?” says Michael with a smile as the wait staff pass around trays of chocolate-covered strawberries. 

Sabrina grins back at him. She’s had a couple of glasses of champagne and the food was good and at least ten people have told her how beautiful she looks. She’s in a good mood. “Sure.”

“This is probably the first time I haven’t completely hated one of these dumb events.”

Sabrina laughs. She’s a little tipsy, and he’s being sweet. “Really?”

Michael laughs back. “Yeah,” he says, and he almost sounds surprised. “Turns out having the most beautiful girl in the room on your arm really makes these things suck less.”

She knows she’s blushing now. “Smooth talker,” she jokes. “Does that line always work?”

“It’s got a decent success rate,” Michael replies easily. “But I bet I haven’t used it nearly as often as you think I have.”

“I find that very hard to believe,” Sabrina shoots back immediately. She likes that he’s not a total asshole. Not an idiot. Sure, he’s cheesy sometimes, but he’s smart and he has a brain and makes her laugh. 

He reminds Sabrina of Ricky, the pool guy at the resort, who’d been one hell of a flatterer. Maybe she just likes it when people are fucking nice to her. 

Doesn’t explain why she likes Zoe. She can be a real bitch when she wants to. 

Okay, that’s not fair. 

She takes another sip of her champagne. She really wants a fucking strawberry, but she’s not in the mood to deal with her mom’s bullshit if she sees her eating chocolate.

She looks around to see if her mom is watching, and notices she’s hanging around Cynthia Murphy again. 

Everyone’s talking about Cynthia’s triumphant return or whatever. This event is apparently going super well. 

No wonder Sabrina’s mom is all over her again. 

Shallow ass bitch. 

When she looks back, Michael’s snagged a bunch of strawberries. He grins and hands her one. “Saw you eyeing them up,” he says with a smirk. “Figured it matches your dress, so.”

“Thank you,” she replies, taking a bite and looking right at him. 

She can see the muscles in his neck move as he swallows nervously. 

Sabrina makes him nervous, she realizes. 

That’s… 

She likes that. She likes that a lot. She’s never made a guy nervous before. 

It makes her feel… weirdly powerful. 

When she’s finished the strawberry, she smiles at him. “I left something in the coat check,” she says in a voice she hopes comes off as cute and coy and not fucking desperate. “Come with me to find it?”

Michael’s eyes widen. “Okay,” he says, and accompanies her out of the ballroom to where the coats are kept. She takes his tie and uses it to pull him close, then kisses him deeply. 

It’s… not bad. Not exactly fireworks, but it’s not, like, disgusting. It just doesn’t feel anywhere near as good as it does when Zoe kisses her. Sabrina moves closer to him, and he puts his hands on her hips tentatively and pulls her close, and fucking hell, she can feel that he’s, like, seriously into it. Either that or teenage boys really are just on a hair-trigger or whatever. 

He kisses her neck, just below her jaw, and it’s nice, objectively, but it’s not…

The word she’d use to describe what’s happening here is underwhelming. 

Fuck, that’s weird, she’s so fucking weird, it’s just…

Not doing anything for her. 

Which is totally not fair, because Michael is so nice and so smart and he’s not a total meathead and even though he plays water polo, he’s not, like, an asshole like basically every other member of the water polo team, and Sabrina really doesn’t fucking understand water polo anyway. What is it? Why is it even a sport? 

“Did you want to go somewhere?” Michael asks breathlessly. 

Sabrina snaps back to the moment. Looks at him, a little taken aback. 

“What?”

Michael’s cheeks go pink. “No pressure,” he says awkwardly. “It’s totally okay if you're not… I just thought that…” He blinks. “You’re so beautiful.”

It clicks. “You want to have sex with me.”

Michael’s eyes go wide. He laughs awkwardly. “Wow, that makes me sound…” He swallows hard. “Yes? Yes, I… I really want to have sex with you.”

“Oh,” Sabrina says. For some reason, she genuinely hadn’t expected this. She smiles at him. “I mean, I…” She clears her throat. “There’s not, like, any reason why I shouldn’t. I just haven’t done it before, so-”

“You haven’t?”

Sabrina shakes her head, almost a little relieved at how Michael’s face falls, like he’s changed his mind or whatever. 

“Well, if you haven’t, I don’t want to pressure you,” he says after a moment. “And I don’t want to, like…” He shrugs. “I want it to be good for you. Because you’re… you’re so cool?”

Sabrina knows she absolutely is not, but she smiles anyway. “You’re not pressuring me,” she says, because he’s… well, he’s not. He’s being really nice about all of this. “But, like… I don’t want to be… unprepared or whatever?” 

Michael blinks. “Unprepared?”

Sabrina smiles at him the best she can. “I didn’t finish reading the manual, so.”

Michael grins at her, like it’s genuinely funny. His grin fades into something softer. “Well, I want you to have sufficient time with the manual,” he says after a moment. “So maybe we could… if you wanted, we could… pencil it in for next weekend.”

Sabrina has to take a moment at that. “You want me to pencil in sex?”

Michael grins sheepishly. “It seemed forward to expect you to use a pen.”

Sabrina laughs. “You are such a dork, oh my god.” 

He  _ is  _ such a dork. He’s nice and he’s funny and he’s objectively cute and he’s good to her, he’s kind and he’s thoughtful and he’s not pressuring her into anything despite the fact that they’re alone in a coat room and he’s absolutely got a boner. 

Sabrina makes a decision. 

Pulls him in for a kiss by his tie. 

“Consider it penciled.”

They don’t stay much longer. Michael suggests they go get some real food, considering that the “meal” was basically nothing, and she agrees. He excuses himself to go to the bathroom, a little awkwardly, and she waits for him outside. 

Eric is there. The guy Reggie bought weed from at cotillion. 

His eyes go big when he sees her. 

Sabrina’s a little flattered that he’s so clearly checking her out. Likes it when his cheeks go red and he clears his throat. 

“It’s Eric, right?” she says, smiling at him. 

“Yeah,” he says, very obviously looking at her face and trying not to look at her boobs which are, admittedly, looking fucking spectacular tonight. “You’re, uh, Sabrina?”

“That’s me,” she replies. 

Eric’s still determinedly looking at her face. “Did you have a nice night?”

She considers. Nods. “Yeah, I actually really did.” She grins at him. “First time for everything, right?”

“Her date is  _ right here, _ asshole.”

Sabrina turns to see Michael and Zoe coming out of the venue. Her heart sinks a little. Zoe is… wasted. 

Not quite as bad as she was after the date with Evan, but it’s pretty fucking close. She’s clearly high, clearly drunk, and her hair is falling out of its elaborate updo and her makeup is basically gone. 

Michael has a steadying but gentle hand on her arm. 

“Hey,” Sabrina says to Zoe. “You doing okay?”

“Don’t let me ruin your big romantic Valentine’s Day or whatever,” says Zoe caustically. 

Sabrina looks at Michael questioningly. “What happened?”

“I got lost on my way to the bathroom,” Michael says sheepishly. “Ran into Zoe and… well, I know she’s your friend, and you wouldn’t want to just leave her like this.” He gives her a reassuring smile. “We can drive her home and then grab dinner?”

Zoe slings her arm around Sabrina’s waist. Buries her face in Sabrina’s neck. “Not having a threesome,” she tells Sabrina. “No matter how nice Prince Charming here is.”

“I can’t take her home like this, her dad will freak,” Sabrina says with a sinking feeling. She frowns. “My mom and dad got a hotel for the night, they’re doing this, like, romantic Valentine’s thing or whatever.” She doesn’t bother mentioning that her parents are barely speaking to each other after a fight at New Year’s over her dad’s parents. She sighs. “Could you maybe just drop both of us at my place? It might be easier.”

Michael frowns a little but nods. “At least let me grab us all some food through the drive-thru,” he says firmly. “It’ll make the hangover less of a bitch.”

“See?” Zoe slurs. “Prince fucking Charming, right here.”

* * *

It’s… fucking unfair. 

That Sabrina looks like. She looks like a… part Indian Marilyn Monroe, but prettier, and her hair is so shiny and she’s… unbelievably hot and utterly stunning and she’s… sitting up in front with Michael Fucking Paterson. 

Fucking Michael Paterson with his Prince fucking Charming bullshit driving them to get fucking burgers or whatever. 

“Zoe, come on,” Sabrina’s voice floats toward her. 

Zoe doesn’t know what she’s saying but she knows she is not fucking happy. And that… sucks. Zoe hates it when Sabrina’s not happy. 

“Guess someone had a couple too many glasses of champagne,” Michael says awkwardly, passing back some food from the front seat. 

When did they get food? 

Zoe frowns when she takes a bite of her burger. “Gross,” She mumbles, pulling a tomato out from under the bun. It’s watery and too warm and totally disgusting. 

Sabrina looks upset. 

Zoe’s… ruining her date. 

Fuck, she’s not supposed to ruin Sabrina’s date, she’s supposed to let her go off and have a boring time with bland Michael and then stop dating him immediately because he’s got the fucking personality of a brown paper bag. 

Zoe’s not supposed to be the thing that wrecks it. Sabrina’s supposed to come to her senses on her own, she’s supposed to… 

She’s supposed to want  _ Zoe.  _

Why is it that nobody fucking wants her? 

Fucking Evan’s such an asshole, probably off sucking face with her fucking stupid brother. He’s crazy, Connor’s crazy, and Evan’s always with him and he didn’t want Zoe and nobody even really looks at her. Nobody pays attention, her parents are too busy, Connor’s… 

Nobody looks at her. 

Not unless she makes them. 

And even then… 

And fuck now she’s crying and fucking wet blanket Michael is giving her some napkins from the bag of food and Sabrina is softly saying that it’s okay but the thing is that it is not okay. 

Nothing is okay. 

It’s all wrong, all of it is so fucking wrong. 

“Hey, hey, okay. It’s okay,” Sabrina says to her gently. She gets her arm around Zoe’s waist and practically hauls her out of the back of potato-faced boring Michael’s car and Zoe teeters on her too-high heels and then Michael “They Call Me Snooze” Paterson catches her by the elbow and helps Sabrina take her inside. 

They deposit Zoe on the sofa in the Patels’ living room and disappear. Probably to like. Suck face or whatever it is that you do with guys who are essentially plain buttered noodles. 

Zoe hates that Sabrina’s going out with him. She really fucking hates it. 

“Come on,” Sabrina says, and she sounds kind of annoyed, “We should get you upstairs.” 

Zoe manages to free her feet from her heels and follow Sabrina up to her bedroom. Sabrina turns on the lights and goes into her adjoining bathroom, leaving Zoe sitting on the bed. 

Zoe stumbles to her feet. 

Sabrina is taking some of the pins out of her hair. 

“You look… r-really beautiful tonight,” Zoe manages to say. 

Sabrina doesn’t look happy to hear her say that. She purses her lips and says thank you. 

Zoe doesn’t like that. 

She tries again. 

“That dress… makes you look. So fucking hot?”

Sabrina stops taking out her earrings. Looks at Zoe with a frown. “I don’t want to do this right now.” 

“Do what?” Zoe says innocently, crossing into Sabrina’s space. Wrapping her arms around Sabrina’s neck. “Can’t I tell my friend how hot she looks?”

She leans down to kiss Sabrina. Their lips touch for the briefest of seconds and then Sabrina pulls away. Steps back. 

“I’m not doing this with you right now. You’re… drunk or-or high. I’m not doing this with you.”

“Why not?” Zoe pouts. She reaches behind her back. Tugs down the zipper of her dress. Shimmies out of it so she’s standing in just her bra and underwear. “You look hot like this. I wanna… I bet you’d look even hotter with my head between your legs.” 

She goes to kiss Sabrina again but this time Sabrina physically stops her. “No, okay? I don’t want to do this. I don’t like how you’re acting.”

“How I’m… acting?”

“You’re all over the place, Zoe. You were crying, you were bitchy, and now you’re, what, trying to come onto me? And you’re clearly on something. I really don’t like the way you’re acting right now.” 

Zoe tries to kiss her again but Sabrina pushes her away. “What? Are you saving it for Michael or something?” 

“You’re drunk, Zoe, you’re acting like a total bitch.” 

“You like it when I’m a little bitchy,” Zoe says, trying to be coy and flirty and fun. Sabrina narrows her eyes. She looks pissed. 

“No, actually. I hate it when you’re like this.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “It’s like I don’t even know you these days.” 

“Sure you do,” Zoe says easily. “I mean. You’ve seen me naked.” 

“Yeah and a fat lot of good that’s done me,” Sabrina says, obviously angry. 

“You don’t… you don't want me?” Zoe almost whispers. She’s terrified the pain of it will crush her. That the weight will make her fall down inside of herself. Sabrina doesn’t want her? Sabrina always wants her. “You don’t… you don’t want me?”

Sabrina’s face falls. “I didn’t say that.”

“Because… because you want Michael Paterson. Because he’s… a guy.” 

Sabrina opens her mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. “You were the one who tried to set me up with him! You’re the one always talking about how this… isn’t real, how it’s just  _ practice.  _ And now you’re mad because I’m going out with Michael?”

“Is he your boyfriend?” Zoe spits. 

“What? No. I don’t… we’ve only gone out a few times.” 

“Did you fuck him?” Zoe demands angrily. 

“No!” 

“Are you going to?” She pushes again. 

“I… I dunno, maybe Zoe. Why does it matter?” 

And then Zoe’s crying again. Because… it does. Because it matters. Because Sabrina is supposed to want her. She’s supposed to belong to Zoe, not Michael who looks like a fucking hashbrown. She’s not supposed to be with some boring guy or even thinking about him when Zoe is half-naked in front of her. 

It’s all gone wrong. 

Everything is fucking wrong. 

And Zoe hates it. She just fucking hates it. 

Nobody wants her. Nobody wants her, not even Sabrina. 

And then she’s crying all over again. Just… crying. 

It wasn’t supposed to be like this none of this was supposed to be like this. It isn’t fair. None of it is fair. 

* * *

Fuck. 

Sabrina hates seeing Zoe cry. 

So much that it’s hard to stay mad at her, fuck. 

She goes to her dresser. Pulls out her softest t-shirt, the one Zoe’s borrowed at sleepovers before, and hands it to her gently. “Come on,” she prompts. “Let’s get some sleep, okay?”

Zoe just cries harder. 

Sabrina hates this. She hates this so much. 

She leaves the t-shirt next to Zoe, then grabs a t-shirt and sweatpants from her dresser and heads to the ensuite bathroom to change. Washes off her makeup as quickly as she can, then gets a clean washcloth and soaks it in warm water. 

Zoe’s not exactly wearing much makeup after all the crying, but maybe wiping her face will make her feel better. 

When Sabrina heads back into her room, Zoe’s sniffling a little. She’s taken off her bra and is wearing Sabrina’s t-shirt and something inside Sabrina twists, low in her stomach. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, she looks good like this. 

Zoe had looked amazing earlier in the night all dressed up, but she looks even better like this, in her underwear and Sabrina’s shirt. 

Sabrina likes seeing Zoe in her shirt like this. 

She moves to sit next to Zoe on the bed. Hands her the washcloth. Zoe looks a little embarrassed but wipes her face obediently. Sabrina leans over and carefully takes the pins out of Zoe’s hair, one by one. 

Zoe shivers a little next to her.

“Are you cold?” Sabrina asks. 

Zoe shakes her head, moving Sabrina’s hand for a moment. 

Sabrina looks at her. She looks so different with her face devoid of makeup, her hair wild and untamed. 

She’s looking at Sabrina’s lips. Looking at them the way Sabrina thinks someone lost in a desert might look at a lake.

It’s Sabrina’s turn to shiver. 

Zoe reaches out and touches her face. “You really did look beautiful tonight,” she says, her voice kind of hushed and awestruck. 

It goes right through Sabrina. 

So many people have told her she looks beautiful tonight, but none of that matters now. 

Fuck. 

_ Fuck.  _

She is so fucking stupid. 

And because she’s so fucking stupid, she leans in and kisses Zoe. Zoe kisses back immediately, like she’s been waiting for it, and it’s like fucking fireworks, it’s like an explosion, and Sabrina is going to go fucking crazy if Zoe isn’t touching her right now, if she can’t feel her skin against Zoe’s. 

Zoe pulls off the shirt she’s wearing and Sabrina removes hers in this haze of stupidity, a haze that just keeps going, keeps pushing her forward, and soon they’re both naked and Zoe’s kissing all the way down her body and Sabrina is lost. 

Lost. 

And so, so fucking stupid. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "City Traffic Puzzle" by The Hush Sound.


	39. Sleeping For The Wrong Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sabrina and Michael take their relationship to the next level. Connor makes a discovery.

Sabrina opens her locker the morning of Valentine’s Day to find a heart-shaped box of chocolates and a very cute teddy bear. There’s also a card. She opens it and reads it, feeling her heart spin around a little bit. 

**Happy Valentine’s Day. Can I take you out on Friday night? xx Michael**

Madison comes over and lets out this squeal. “Oh my god,” she says, and Sabrina genuinely cannot tell if she’s happy or pissed off. “The guy is so fucking into you.”

Zoe’s there, and she has this expression on her face that’s deliberately aloof. “Chocolates and a teddy bear,” she says, examining her nails. “He’s really going for the cliches, huh?”

Sabrina takes the box of chocolates out of her locker then closes it with more force than strictly necessary. “I see it as going for the classics,” she tells Zoe, then opens the box and offers it to her. “Can’t argue with the classics.”

Zoe shakes her head in annoyance, and Sabrina offers the box to Madison, who takes one daintily. Madison finishes the chocolate, then looks at Sabrina and raises her eyebrows. “Make sure you don’t eat them all,” she says breezily. “Your ass can’t afford to get any bigger.”

Zoe scowls immediately. “Madison, why are you such a bitch?”

Madison giggles. “You like it when I’m bitchy,” she says, and blows a kiss. 

Sabrina’s immediately transported back to Friday night when Zoe was all over her and that is absolutely not what she needs to be thinking about it right now. 

She’d said that same thing, in her underwear on Sabrina’s bed. 

Fuck. 

Sabrina takes the chocolates with her throughout the day. She knows she can’t take them home because her mom has been on her case about junk food. She keeps checking her room, like she’s hiding a stash or whatever. 

She’s not, but she kind of feels like maybe she should be now. 

Instead, she just offers them around during classes to people she knows and doesn’t hate. It’s a huge box, all things considered, and she kind of likes being, like, some kind of candy fairy or whatever, spreading Valentine's joy.

She hands them out to basically everyone in her first few classes. People she knows and is vaguely friendly with. When it comes to biology, it’s a little harder. There are plenty of people she doesn’t know. The only people she really talks to are her lab partner and Alana. 

Before class starts, she goes over to where Alana is sitting and offers her a chocolate, just in time for Evan to arrive. 

Fuck. 

Sabrina had kind of forgotten that Evan was Alana’s lab partner. A little awkwardly, she offers him a chocolate. His eyes go wide and he takes one with a small smile. 

“Thank you,” he says quietly. “D-did you get these from the guy you were at the Gala with?”

Sabrina’s a little surprised he noticed. “Yeah,” she says. “Michael Paterson.”

“He’s a senior,” Alana supplies helpfully. “He went on that writing workshop to D.C. with Evan and Connor.” She sounds a little annoyed and it hits Sabrina instantly that Alana’s pissed she wasn’t invited to go to the workshop. 

She decides not to mention it. 

“He seems nice,” Evan offers, his cheeks a little pink, like he’s embarrassed to be talking to her. “He-he k-kept looking at you like he was… r-really lucky. At the Gala?” 

Sabrina hadn’t realized that. Definitely hadn’t realized that it was obvious to other people. “Really?”

Evan nods. Doesn’t say anything. Just thanks her again. 

It would be so much easier if Sabrina could hate him. 

She has trig before lunch. She doesn’t really hang out with a lot of people in her trig class, but secretly it’s one of her favorite parts of the day because it’s kind of hysterical watching Connor Murphy mouth off to the teacher about how much he hates triangles. 

No one seems to realize how funny Connor is. Some of the shit that comes out of his mouth is just hilarious. Sabrina remembers him telling Mrs. Carlson that trig should be banned under the Geneva convention and trying very hard not to just, like, burst out laughing. 

Zoe’s funny, too, when she’s not trying to be popular. 

When she lets her guard down. 

They’re not as different as Zoe wants them to be, Sabrina thinks. 

She’d never tell her that. 

When she gets to trig, Connor’s there already. She sits in the seat next to him and offers him a chocolate. He just blinks at her. 

“What’s this?”

Sabrina rolls her eyes. “Chocolates,” she says. “Valentine’s chocolates.”

“I know that,” Connor replies immediately. “Why are you offering them to me?”

She opens her mouth to say something about Valentine's cheer, but instead the truth comes out. “Because my mom will lose it if I come home with chocolates, even though a boy from a good family gave them to me, and I don’t want to leave them in my locker, and Madison reminded me my ass can’t afford to get any bigger so obviously I can’t eat them all myself.”

Connor visibly flinches. “Fuck that,” he says immediately. “Eat the whole damn box. Anyone who comments on a woman’s body like that is fucking garbage.”

Sabrina stares at him for a moment. 

That was not what she expected. 

He seems legitimately pissed off on her behalf. 

His cheeks go red. He shrinks a little in his seat. “I just think it’s bullshit.”

Sabrina puts the chocolates on Connor’s desk. Picks one up and eats it defiantly, then looks at Connor. “Come on,” she says. She points to one of the wrapped ones. “This is the chewiest caramel. Maybe if you eat one, your teeth will get stuck together and you’ll stop mouthing off and getting detention.”

Connor blinks. Smiles a little. “Or I'll get detention for eating in class.”

“Worth it for caramel,” Sabrina says with a grin. 

Connor looks at the box for what feels like a long time. Takes one of the caramel chocolates after a long time and puts it in his hoodie pocket. “Better not risk eating it now,” he says quietly. “Thank you, Sabrina.”

Even though he doesn’t eat the caramel, Connor manages to not get detention in trig. 

Sabrina’s honestly kind of proud of him. 

Michael’s waiting for her outside trig. He grins when he sees her holding the box of chocolates. 

“Want one?”

“Sure,” he says, taking one and popping the whole thing in his mouth, then slinging his arm around her shoulder. He’s taller than her, and it’s a little weird, having him wrapped around her. 

To the outside eye, it probably looks like they fit. 

She’s not sure if that’s true. 

“So,” he says when they get to the cafeteria. “Friday?”

Sabrina nods. “Sure. What did you have in mind?”

He looks a little nervous. Rakes his hand through his hair. “It’s up to you,” he says quietly. “I don’t want to pressure you at all, but I was thinking maybe we could… get a hotel room.”

Oh. 

Oh. 

Okay. That’s…

That’s a thing that’s happening, apparently. 

There’s no reason for her to say no to this. No reason at all. She’s seventeen, Michael’s nice, and…

Well. 

Zoe keeps saying that they’re practicing for the real thing. That what they do doesn’t count, that they’re just… getting ready for the real thing. 

They’ve been doing a fuckload of practicing. 

Sabrina thinks she’s ready. 

Ready for this, ready to do something real. Something normal. If she has sex with Michael, then maybe she can be normal and not creepily obsessed with Zoe. 

She likes having Michael’s arm around. She likes the way people treat her because they think she’s his, likes how people looked at her when she was all dressed up at the Gala. 

It didn’t stop her from being fucking miserable all the time, but it was _something._

And it’s better than this weird uncertainty, this feeling that she doesn’t fit. Michael’s never made her feel like she doesn’t fit. Not really. 

_Just because he hasn’t made you feel like you don’t fit doesn’t mean you do._

“That sounds great,” she tells him with a smile. “Hotel, Friday night.” She grins as best she can. “I totally expect a really nice hotel, just so you know.”

Michael gives her this huge smile, then does this dorky, almost theatrical bow. “Your wish is my command, fair lady.”

 _That_ feels weird. 

Weird, but maybe charming. 

Sabrina can do this. 

She can absolutely do this.

* * *

Connor doesn’t know what to make of Sabrina giving him candy in trig. He’s so thrown off by it and by her confession that her _horrible_ mother would give her shit for getting some chocolates from a guy for Valentine’s Day that he doesn’t even mouth off in trig. He does his assignment during the portion of class dedicated to work time and Mrs. Carlson genuinely asks him if he’s feeling alright at the end of class. 

“You’re _never_ this quiet.”

Connor just shrugs. 

He goes to lunch and sits beside Evan. He sets the candy in front of Evan the second he sits down. 

Just sort of sets it in front of him. 

“What’s this?”

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Connor says awkwardly. “Sabrina Patel gave it to me in trig, and I don’t think I can…”

Evan nods. “Is it caramel?”

Connor nods. 

Evan smiles and takes a bite out of it. His eyes close happily as he chews and Connor thinks it’s kind of beautiful. Seeing him happy. 

Evan had told him, a while ago, that he never really got much in the way of chocolate as a kid. It melts too fast. Other kids would take his stuff in foster care. It wasn’t practical. 

Connor sort of wants to give Evan all of the chocolates in the world if it makes him happy. 

“You should really try it,” Evan says. “There’s sea salt on top.”

Connor absolutely doesn’t think he can. 

He looks at the half-eaten chocolate awkwardly. 

“Come on. I bet you can eat that.”

“How much?” Connor mutters darkly. 

Evan’s face falls a bit. 

Shit. Connor feels bad. 

He sucks in a deep breath. Picks the chocolate up. Takes a tiny little bite. 

His teeth sort of ache from the sudden sugar. It’s really chewy and it takes a bit of effort for him to actually chew it. His jaw protests. But Connor chews. And chews more. Chews and chews. Debates just spitting it out but Evan’s looking at him so instead he swallows. 

It feels sort of heavy going down his throat. 

But Evan’s smiling and that makes Connor feel super warm. Warm and happy and. 

He’d eat a million candies if it meant he got to earn Evan’s pleased little smile. 

Connor would do anything. 

Literally anything. 

* * *

It’s a really fucking nice hotel. 

Expensive. Her parents come here sometimes. 

Either he’s more loaded than she thought or he actually really likes her. 

Michael clearly sees her shock and smiles a little. Mumbles something about how his uncle owns this hotel so he got a good deal on the room.

“Oh,” she says teasingly. “I see how this is. You bring all your conquests to this hotel.”

His cheeks go bright red. “Not as many conquests as you’re imagining.” 

Michael is kind of self-deprecating, Sabrina’s noticing. It’s a nice change from most of the guys around here who think that they’re hot shit. 

Zoe carries herself with so much more confidence than Michael. She knows she’s hot, and you can tell that she knows from the way she walks around when she’s at a party or even at school. People watch her when she walks by. 

Michael kind of fades into the background. He’s steady. He’s solid.

He’s always kind to her. 

When they get to the room, he kisses her, then tells her that if she doesn’t want anything to happen tonight, he’s not going to be mad. 

“I just want it to be good for you,” he tells her, and it seems like he really means it. “You’re awesome, and it should be good.” 

“I’m nervous?” she admits. She feels her cheeks burn. It’s weird to be talking about this frankly, but there’s something about the way that he’s looking at her that makes her feel like he’s not going to laugh. “I heard that it kind of… hurts? The first time? And it could be, like, kind of…” She trails off. 

She’s not about to talk about the fact that she’s heard that there’s blood sometimes. 

That just doesn’t seem like something you talk about. 

Michael takes her hand. His cheeks go pink. “So I’m gonna tell you something,” he says, this determined look on his face, “and you have to promise not to make fun of me, okay?”

Sabrina nods. “Okay.”

Michael clears his throat. “Okay,” he says. “So, my older sister, she’s a junior at Brown.” His cheeks are even pinker. “She came home for Thanksgiving her freshman year, got super drunk at a holiday party and gave me this full-on speech about how not to be… completely awful at sex.”

Sabrina can’t help it. She has to laugh. 

“She did?”

Michael clears his throat again. Grins awkwardly. “Yeah,” he says. “She was very drunk, and there was a whiteboard, and…” He smiles. “Obviously, I was completely traumatized at the time. But the next summer I met this girl and we had sex and I kept thinking about all the stuff she told me, which I’m starting to realize is a weird thing to admit, because thinking about your sister during sex is so weird-”

“Oh my god, Michael.”

“But it was helpful!” he says with a laugh. “Trust me, it’s… it’s way better if the girl’s into it, you know? Like… it’s supposed to feel good, right? Everyone’s supposed to… everyone’s supposed to feel good.”

There’s something dark in his eyes. He swallows nervously. 

Michael is so nice. 

He’s nice and he’s kind and he’s cute and he wants her. 

He wants to be seen in public with her. 

He’ll hold her damn hand, put his arm around her, let people see that they’re together. 

Feeling wanted matters. Feeling like someone is proud to be seen with you _matters_. 

Sabrina leans in and kisses him. 

It starts soft. Slow. Tentative. 

He seems happy to let her set the pace, which is… different. 

Zoe kisses more desperately than this. Zoe kisses her like she has something to prove, like she can’t get enough of her. 

Michael is nice. 

He’s really nice. 

He checks in the whole time. Checks in before he takes off her clothes, instead of just ripping them off like Zoe does. 

Zoe takes Sabrina’s clothes off like she wants them gone, like she hates the idea of anything separating them. 

Michael’s… slower. Calmer. More steady. 

He’s steady and solid and Zoe is wild and untamed and…

She needs to stop thinking about Zoe right now. 

Especially when Michael’s kissing his way down her body and asking if it’s okay. 

She says yes. 

It’s… it’s different. 

It’s not the same as when Zoe…

But if she closes her eyes and thinks about Zoe, then it’s better. It’s okay. 

She pulls his hair a little as he goes down on her and it’s too short, it doesn’t feel right, so she lets go and doesn’t do it again. 

He sends her over the edge once. Twice.

It’s different to how Zoe does it. Slower and more… steady. 

When Zoe does it, it’s like she can’t get enough of her. 

It’s mind-blowingly hot when Zoe does that. 

Michael kisses up her body. Touches her, kisses her, tells her she’s beautiful and checks in every time he touches her and shyly, bashfully, asks her if she could touch him. 

Sabrina has no idea what she’s doing at first, but she didn’t know what she was doing when she was with Zoe, and she figured that out. 

She touches him and he lets out this whimper and it’s clearly working for him, she can do this, even though it feels weird and kind of wrong, she can _do_ this, she can make this okay. 

He bites her lip gently when he kisses her and tells her to stop after a while then rolls over to get something from the dresser and there’s this weird pause, this weird anticipation, and he’s got a condom but he’s also got, like, a lot of lube. 

“I want it to be good for you,” he says, something rough in his voice. “If it’s your first time then I don’t want you to get hurt, I want you to feel good, Sabrina.”

She nods. Kisses him. 

Lets him touch her. Get her ready. 

And it’s… not bad. 

It’s nice. 

She kisses him the whole time, kisses his neck and his jaw, and it feels different. His stubble under her lips feels strange, it scratches, it’s not smooth like kissing Zoe. 

He smells different. He sounds different. 

He says her name as he finishes and kisses her and strokes her hair and tells her that she’s beautiful, and it’s… nice. 

It’s not bad. 

It’s just not… incredible. 

It’s fine. 

It really is. 

But she’s had better than fine, so this feels like settling. 

It really feels like settling. 

* * *

Zoe feels like she’s going to like. Cry or something. Sabrina comes over on Saturday night and the two of them agree not to bother with this party being thrown by some B-list senior to hang out in the pool house instead. Zoe is sort of grateful because she’s a little hungover still from the night before. 

She made out with Tommy at the party and feels a little queasy about it. He hadn’t known what the hell he was doing at all and her lower lip still feels kind of raw from him biting it. 

Do other girls like it when he’s that rough with kissing? Is Zoe kissing wrong? 

Sabrina seems kind of on edge. She keeps sort of laughing nervously and keeps checking her phone and Zoe kind of wants to pick the damn thing up and throw it in her pool. Make sure Sabrina is paying attention to her. 

Whatever. 

She’s being weird. 

The two of them steal Connor’s weed and get a little stoned. It definitely helps with Zoe’s hangover. 

“So,” she says conversationally after a while. “How was your date last night with the mashed potato man?”

Sabrina looks confused. 

“He’s just. A bit boring, right? Michael?”

Sabrina frowns a bit. “He’s nice.”

“Sure. So are plain mashed potatoes.”

Sabrina frowns more. “Actually, it was nice. We had a good time.”

“What did you do?” Zoe asks casually. “Dinner and a movie?”

Sabrina’s cheeks go pink. “Actually we got a hotel room,” she says, her tone deceptively light. 

Zoe feels her heart drop. “You… Wait. What?”

Sabrina’s definitely blushing. “We got a hotel room and… we had sex.”

Zoe stares. Her heart thuds uncomfortably against her ribs. 

“You slept with him?” Zoe says. Her voice is hushed and she feels herself blushing. “But you’ve only been going out for, like, two weeks?”

Sabrina shrugs. “I felt ready.”

Zoe knows what she’s supposed to do. She’s supposed to get all, like, “Tell me more, tell me more.” She’s supposed to be excited that Sabrina isn’t a virgin anymore. She’s supposed to want details and she’s supposed to be happy and laugh and tease Sabrina. 

“Oh. Huh.” Zoe clears her throat. “Well. Congratulations, you big slut. Good for you.” It falls flat. Comes out sort of bitchy. 

Sabrina looks embarrassed. She won’t look Zoe in the eye. 

“I mean… like. How was it?”

Sabrina shrugs. “It was alright. He was like. Nice about it. Went down on me for a while first.”

Zoe wants to demand to know if he made her wet. If he made her come the way Zoe does. If he figured out the spot inside her that makes Sabrina’s eyes roll back in her head if you hit it just right. 

Sabrina doesn’t volunteer more. 

“Well did it hurt?” Zoe asks. 

Stupidly she sort of hopes that it did. 

Sabrina shakes her head. “No. He was good. Brought like. Lube and whatever. It was nice.”

“Nice?” Zoe echoes. 

“Yeah. Nice. He was nice about it. Wanted me to be into it.”

“Well. Were you?” Zoe demands. 

“I guess,” Sabrina says. She shrugs a little. “It wasn’t like. Amazing. Like it felt good and stuff but it was kinda awkward. And he’s got like. Stubble? And it’s sort of sharp.”

“Huh,” Zoe says, hoping for a sort of detached and vague tone. 

She weirdly feels like she could cry. 

“Yeah, I mean. It was okay. Like. It was good, I think.” She shrugs. 

“Right.”

Zoe’s not going to cry. 

She’s not. 

She swears she’s not. 

“He’s done it before so….”

“Yeah. Good then. That he knew what he was doing or. Whatever.”

Sabrina goes quiet. They both just sort of sit there. 

For a long time. 

In total silence. 

Zoe hates this. 

“You’re not like. Mad that I slept with him?” Sabrina says, sounding unsure. 

“Why would I be?” Zoe says quickly. “Like I said. Good for you. Finally cashing in that v-card.” 

“Yeah.”

They keep sitting. Quiet. 

Zoe feels like she could genuinely die of embarrassment. 

Sabrina frowns at her a little. “Just. It was fine you know? It was just. Just fine.”

“Okay.”

Sabrina bites her lip. “And like. He obviously likes me. Wanted to make it good for me and whatever.”

“Sure. That’s good or whatever.”

Sabrina sighs. 

Zoe still feels like crying. 

“Zoe,” she says softly. 

Zoe can’t look at her. She slept with Michael. He went down on her. It was nice. Apparently. 

Zoe can do better than nice. 

She turns to look at Sabrina. Her cheeks are pink still. She has her lips parted slightly. 

They’re shiny with that strawberry lipgloss she’s always wearing. Zoe likes the way it tastes. Sweet and simple and right. 

She leans in and kisses Sabrina on the mouth and the two of them are sort of frantic in the way they move toward each other. They shed their clothes fast and Zoe pulls off Sabrina’s underwear. Sinks her fingers inside of her. 

Sabrina sighs. 

“Did you like it?” Zoe asks, still working her fingers and making Sabrina’s eyes close. “When he fucked you?”

Sabrina says something not quite intelligible as Zoe presses kisses to her neck. Her collarbone. Down her chest. 

She’s so pretty and flushed pink and she’s clearly into this. Her eyes are dilated. She’s wet. 

For Zoe. She’s like this for Zoe.

Zoe kisses her way down Sabrina’s body. “Did you like it?” She asks again. 

“Y-yeah,” Sabrina says, breathy and lost. 

“More than when I do this?” She says, turning her fingers slightly in a way she knows makes Sabrina go weak. 

“Fuck, Zoe,” Sabrina sighs. 

“Did you like it more?” She demands again. 

“No. N-no, okay, I didn’t…”

Good, Zoe thinks. She dives down between Sabrina’s legs. Her thighs are already shaking and she doesn’t take long at all. Like her body has been shaking for it. Waiting for it. 

Sabrina flips Zoe onto her stomach and kisses her shoulders and her back. She pulls off Zoe’s panties and starts fingering her. 

Zoe’s been waiting for it too. All day. All fucking day. 

She’s like a tightly coiled spring finally set free when Sabrina touches her. She loses herself as Sabrina turns her onto her back and kisses her everywhere. Fuck she’s good at this and Zoe falls apart quickly. She’s pent up. 

She’s not finished yet. Zoe needs to get Sabrina off. Several times. Until she can’t remember her own name. 

She dives between Sabrina’s legs again. 

“Zoe fuck,” Sabrina whimpers. Zoe does all of the things she knows Sabrina likes. She takes her fucking time, and Sabrina’s hips move and she sighs and moans and Zoe is the one doing this, the one making her feel this good. Sabrina threads her hands in Zoe’s hair and tugs it lightly. It only encourages her. She keeps going. “Bet he wasn’t nearly as good at this,” she murmurs, kissing Sabrina’s leg. “Bet he didn’t make you feel half as good.”

“N-no,” Sabrina says. She’s getting close, Zoe can tell. “Please Zoe.”

Zoe gets back to work. She’s got something to prove. She’s better at this than Michael Fucking Paterson. He plays fucking waterpolo. He’s an idiot and he’s boring and Zoe definitely isn’t boring. 

“Shit shit, _Zoe,_ ” Sabrina says. 

Zoe keeps going. She needs to make Sabrina feel so good she doesn’t ever think about Michael ever again. She needs to -

“Holy shit!”

Zoe sits up, her heart pounding hard. 

Her brother is standing in the doorway of the pool house. His face is bright red. 

Shit. Shit fuck shit. 

Fuck. 

“Connor get the fuck out!” Zoe almost screams. 

He listens and exits quickly. 

The door shuts with a loud snap. 

Sabrina sits up. She looks _horrified._

“Oh my god.”

Zoe can’t breathe. 

“Oh my god oh my god Zoe do you think he saw?”

Zoe feels like her heart might burst. 

“Shit. Fuck. Fuck!”

They both scramble to their feet. They throw their clothes on quickly. Zoe’s face is so hot. Her heart is going to explode. 

“He saw us,” she keeps saying. “Oh my god he saw us he saw us.”

“What do we do?” Sabrina asks, and she sounds so scared but also… not nearly as scared as Zoe thinks she should be. “Should we talk to him?”

“And say what?” Zoe snaps. 

“That… that we’re not telling people, that we’re…” She looks around helplessly. “I think we have to tell him the truth. He’s gay, he’ll understand-”

“What truth?” Zoe demands. 

“That we’re… that you and I are…”

“We’re not doing anything,” Zoe says bluntly, her heart feeling like the rapidly beating wings of a hummingbird, like it’s going to fly right out of here. 

“Zoe,” Sabrina says like she’s being stupid. “He just. Like. _Saw us._ Having sex.”

“That isn’t… _this_ isn’t sex.”

Sabrina looks hurt. “You don’t think this is sex?”

“No! You need a guy to have sex this is just…”

“Practice?” Sabrina says coldly. 

“Yes,” Zoe says, relieved that she gets it, finally. 

“Practice for what, exactly?” Sabrina says. “Because… because I’ve had sex with a guy now and it wasn’t _anything_ like this.”

Zoe opens her mouth. Closes it. 

“It’s not real,” she whispers. 

“It is for me!” Sabrina says. Her eyes are shining. “It’s real for me, Zoe, it’s real and… and I think. I think I have feelings for you.”

“Don’t be stupid, Sabrina, you can’t have feelings for me. I’m a girl.”

“But I… I do.” She sniffles. She’s in tears. “I think I might… I might love you. And I think you might love me too.”

“I don’t,” Zoe says, her heart hammering way too hard. “I don’t. I’m not…. I’m not _gay_ Sabrina, and neither are you.” She pushes a hand through her hair, trying to think, to figure out a way out of this. “We just tell Connor we were… stoned. And if he says anything I’ll just… I’ll talk to my mom, I’ll tell her he’s on drugs again, I’ll get him sent away-”

“Zoe what the hell, you can’t do that!” Sabrina looks outraged. “Connor didn’t do anything. _We_ did.”

“No. We didn’t. He didn’t see anything.”

Sabrina is definitely crying now. 

She bends quickly to grab her purse and then leaves in a rush. Zoe hears her pull out of the driveway. 

She stays in the pool house all night. Waiting for Connor to come back and demand to know what he walked in on. 

He doesn’t. 

Sabrina doesn’t call. 

Zoe watches the sunrise. 

* * *

Connor can’t sleep. 

He’s not sure why his body is just garbage at knowing when he’s supposed to be asleep, but it is and so he’s sitting up and he’s tired and he just wants to sleep. 

Evan was texting him for a while, going back and forth about music. Evan’s a big fan of classics. Oldies. Apparently his mom liked Motown too. Connor’s more interested in punk and grunge and stuff made more recently. 

They were debating Nirvana (Connor loves them, Evan thinks they are good but that Pearl Jam is better which is an Incorrect Opinion if you ask Connor) but he stopped replying a little after one so Connor assumes he’s gone to bed like a normal person. 

He decides maybe he should smoke some weed. He’s feeling kind of keyed up and weed usually helps. 

So he throws some flip flops on and heads to the pool house. He’s sort of surprised to see that the lights are on but not like, that surprised, because he knows Sabrina’s still here but he figures he’ll just pop in and grab his stash and then leave. 

No big deal. 

He opens the door and heads inside and is immediately assaulted by the sounds of sex. 

Fuck. 

What? 

He doesn’t want to be looking but he looks and there’s Sabrina Patel, naked, and Zoe’s head is between her legs and, “Holy shit!”

Connor feels his face heat up. 

Oh my god oh my god oh my god. 

They stop and sit up and Zoe screams, “Connor get the fuck out!” And he listens he obeys he gets the fuck out as fast as he can manage because what the actual fuck. 

What the actual fuck. 

After all the shit Zoe gave Evan for being gay, even though he _isn’t_ , and he just caught her having sex with Sabrina Patel. And from the looks of it she knows what she’s doing. 

Oh my god his brain needs bleach. He saw Sabrina naked. 

He saw _Zoe_ naked. 

Ew. Gross. So wrong. She’s his fucking sister the last time they saw each other properly naked they were still young enough to take baths together what the fuck ew no gross bad Connor needs to delete this memory immediately. 

What the fuck. 

He needs a cigarette. 

He’s out of fucking cigarettes. 

He doesn’t hesitate. Connor just gets in his car and immediately drives to the nearest 7-11, buys a pack of smokes and impulsively gets a bright blue Slurpee and just. Sits on the hood of his car drinking corn syrup and smoking because. 

His sister is gay. Zoe is fucking _gay._

He didn’t expect that. 

He didn’t expect it of Sabrina either, frankly. He thought she was dating that guy Michael. 

Oh my god and he walked in on them. 

If anyone ever walked in on Connor in the middle of sex, he would have to kill them and then himself. He’d have to full-on murder-suicide. No way would he live through that kind of bullshit. 

Oh my _god._ Zoe’s _a lesbian._

He can’t process that. 

She’s a fucking _lesbian._

How long has she known?

And… she knows that he’s gay. Why didn’t she like. Tell him. Ask him about it? He’d have been nice to her about it. 

_Yeah right. So you have one thing in common. You’re still a fucking freak. She still fucking hates you._

The voice in his head does have a valid point. Being gay is hardly the only thing wrong with Connor. 

But holy shit. 

Zoe likes girls. She was _having sex with a girl._

Ugh no that thought is still kinda gross. Not because he’s a gay guy who thinks girls’ bodies are gross or whatever because that’s misogynistic and super horrible it’s just because like. Zoe is his sister. In his head she still has a potbelly and a tragic bob and missing front teeth. They are related. 

Also apparently that weird mole on her chest is now a mole on her boob. 

Oh my fucking god what is _wrong_ with him Jesus Fuck. 

Ugh. 

He feels sick. 

Might be because he’s drunk like. A bucket of blue raspberry slurpee and smoked half a pack of cigarettes and also _saw his sister having sex._ That’s gonna scar him for life. Might as well just pack it in because he’s never getting over _that._

Fuck. 

Should he say something? 

Reassure her that it’s like. Fine if she’s gay? 

Tell her he won’t blab about it. 

_She blabbed about you. She outed you to Evan._

Connor knows that. He knows. And there’s some appeal to the idea of like. Getting revenge. Payback’s a bitch and all. He could tell Evan. Even the playing field. 

No. 

He couldn’t do that to her. They don’t get along but he’s not like. An asshole. He’s not _that_ much of a dick. 

He won’t tell. 

He won’t. 

He drives home. 

Ends up puking up his slurpee. Probably for the best. That shit is all sugar and chemicals. 

He can’t really sleep that night. 

Because his sister is fucking _gay._

* * *

Zoe is a wreck on Monday. 

She spent the weekend avoiding Connor. And her parents just in case he might have opened his mouth and spilled to them. 

But nobody comes to confront her about her big gay secret so. 

By Monday she thinks she’s in the clear. But to be safe, she avoids Sabrina. Tells Madison that Sabrina is “kind of annoying lately, right?”

“ _Oh my god,_ yes,” Madison says. “I didn’t wanna say anything because you two seem so tight or whatever, but ever since she started going out with Michael I just can’t stand her. She’s so _smug._ Like we get it. You’re getting laid. Whatever.”

Zoe nods. “Yeah. Exactly.” The words taste like dust in her mouth but she pushes through. 

“Did you guys like. Have a fight?” Madison asks her when Sabrina doesn’t show her face at lunch. 

“I dunno,” Zoe says with a shrug. “She came over on Saturday and was being all weird. I guess she and Michael finally did it and she was all. Braggy.”

“Ew. What a slut.”

“Exactly.”

Zoe feels kind of bad for blabbing but she needs to stay ahead of this thing in case Connor tries to say something. She needs to sow seeds of doubt. Damage control. 

Nobody can know about her and Sabrina. They just _can’t._

Sabrina keeps trying to catch her eye in the hall and Zoe can’t fucking take it. She can’t deal with it. 

She finds Jared Kleinman before her study hall. 

“What can I do you for, Baby Quitter?”

Zoe glares at him. “I have a test seventh period and I need to like. Chill.”

Jared gives her a feral smile. “What sort of chill are you thinking?” He says. “Afraid I don’t keep anything natural on school grounds but…”

Zoe considers. “You got anything for this _headache_ I have?”

He nods once. Unzips his bag and glances around. “Normally I demand some more discretion but. Since you’re a friend.” 

She gives him cash. 

He gives her three small circular pills. 

“Thanks,” she says. 

She downs the first one right there in the hall. 

It kicks in around the midway point in sixth period. Her eyelids feel pleasantly heavy and she doesn’t feel nearly as concerned about Sabrina going rogue and trying to talk to her. 

She notices Evan watching her and for a moment the panic returns. 

Connor might have told him. 

Frankly, it would make sense if he did. 

Zoe told Evan about _him_ after all. 

But Evan says nothing and Zoe is able to ignore him for the rest of the period. 

* * *

Sabrina feels like she’s going to vibrate out of her fucking skin on Monday morning. 

Just, like, completely lose it. 

She has no idea how she’s going to get through trig without dissolving into a puddle of shame, without spontaneously combusting or something. 

The morning drags on and Alana’s definitely looking at her weird in biology. Sabrina wonders if it’s some kind of weird lesbian radar or something. 

If Alana can tell just by looking her that on Friday night she had sex with a guy for the first time and then on Saturday night she had sex with Zoe for the billionth time and her brother walked in on them. 

They’re dissecting a pig’s heart. Sabrina is very tempted to use the scalpel to just stab herself in the neck so she doesn’t have to go to trig. 

Evan’s looking at her weird, as well. 

Oh god. 

Connor told him. 

Connor fucking _told_ him, what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck. 

What the fuck, everyone is going to know, and Zoe’s going to…

Sabrina has no idea what Zoe’s going to do. Zoe hasn’t talked to her since Saturday night. 

Early Sunday morning. 

Whatever. 

Fucking hell, fucking _fuck_. 

She doesn’t head into trig until the last second, just so she doesn’t have to talk to anyone, and keeps her head down throughout the lesson. Connor doesn’t approach her, doesn’t talk to her, doesn’t even look at her. 

It’s fucking decent of him. 

Connor’s _gay_ , the last thing he wants to see are Sabrina’s tits, _fuck._

Fuck. 

At least he didn’t see anything else, because that was covered up by _his sister’s head_ oh god she is _going to die_. 

Connor manages to avoid getting detention. He seems as desperate to get away from her as she is to avoid him, so that works out quite well. He’s out the door the minute the bell rings. 

Michael’s waiting for Sabrina outside trig to walk her to lunch. He smiles and leans down to kiss her. She lets him. 

Seems like the least she can do, considering that right after fucking him she fucked someone else. 

And it was better. 

All that fucking practice for the real thing, and it was better with Zoe. 

It’s always been better with Zoe.

That’s the cold hard truth of it all. 

This is completely unfair to Michael. Completely unfair. But she can’t…

She’s not brave enough to pull the plug here. Not brave enough to be fair to him, she’s not…

She’s not brave like Alana. 

She’s just not. 

Michael seems to notice things are a little weird and keeps checking in. Smiles at her. Tells her she’s pretty. Asks her if she’s okay, if she had a nice weekend, if she’s feeling okay, if it was…

If he was okay.

“You were perfect,” she tells him, and she means it. 

He was perfect. 

He’d be perfect for someone else. 

But not for her. 

It would be so much easier if he could be perfect for her. 

* * *

Connor hasn’t even seen Zoe since Saturday night. She’s avoiding him. Or he’s avoiding her. Or maybe they’re avoiding each other. 

“What’s g-going on?” Evan asks him on the way into school that day. “You’re all… twitchy.”

Connor is trying so hard _not_ to be twitchy but he can’t really help it. 

He’s nervous. 

He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t like sitting on a secret. Keeping something from Evan. 

But it actually has nothing to do with Evan so. It’s not that big of a deal. He can just tell not him. 

Except Connor is also not telling Evan about how his mom is fucking drinking again and suddenly Connor feels like this huge fucking liar who is keeping stuff from his best friend and fuck that makes him like an awful horrible person. 

And then there’s like. The fact that he has no idea what to do about Zoe. 

And he would love some outside perspective but he can’t fucking get any without telling someone about what happened. 

Connor keeps his head down in trig and pointedly does _not_ look at Sabrina because if he looks at her he’ll be forced to reconcile the fact that 1. Sabrina is banging and/or getting banged by his sister and 2. Connor totally saw her naked and that’s embarrassing in its own special way. 

Connor has never actually seen a naked girl in real life before. Like. Naked naked. Sure he kinda accidentally saw Zoe topless when she came home high after her date with Evan but she’s his _sister_ not a regular girl and she still had on like underwear. 

Sabrina definitely did not have underwear on. 

Ugh because Connor’s _sister_ was eating her out fuck Jesus hell he really wishes he didn’t still have that visual in his head it’s so _wrong._

Not that sex or lesbians are _wrong_ or whatever just that it’s Zoe and she’s fucking _eight_ years old in his mind and throwing a gerbil funeral. She shouldn’t be having sex she should be playing with Barbies or shooting him with Nerf guns or falling off her bike or something. _Normal_ little sister stuff. Not. Going down on girls. 

Yuck. Nope. Gross. Just. Jesus nope. 

But anyway Connor avoids Sabrina like she has the plague and at lunch, Evan tries to convince him to eat half of a peach but all Connor can think about is how peaches kinda look like vaginas. 

Or is it vulvas? He doesn’t remember which one the outside bit is. He zoned out a lot during Health class freshman year. 

“Is there a word like phallic but for vaginas?” Connor asks Evan. 

Evan puts the peach down and frowns at it slightly. “What?”

“Like. When you see a cucumber and you’re like ‘yeah that’s kinda dick-shaped,’ so you call it phallic. Is there a word for stuff that’s kinda… vagina-shaped?”

Evan shrugs. He looks confused and maybe a little alarmed. “A-are you saying peaches look… l-l-l-like…?”

He can’t say vagina. It’s cute almost. 

Meanwhile this week Connor has _seen_ one, sorta, which is just plain wrong because the one he saw _had his sister’s face in it._

Oh my god he’s gonna fucking _die._ Evan seems to have caught on that something is definitely wrong but Connor cannot bring himself to explain because if he did he would out two people and that’s not very kind so instead Connor just sits through lunch and tries not to think about peaches or vaginas or his stupid little sister. 

“Whatever it is, you can tell me,” Evan tells him in English when Connor is so tightly wound that he jumps when Mr. Stevens puts his latest paper on Connor’s desk. The grade is a B-. The note on the back says, “ _Not your best work. You need to work on solidifying your arguments in your body paragraphs.”_

“Fuck,” Connor mutters. 

Evan naturally has an A+. With a smiley face. 

His smile droops when he sees Connor’s. He looks embarrassed and shoves his own paper into his book quickly. 

Connor feels irrationally annoyed at him. 

He had felt pretty good about the paper when he turned it in but now he just feels like a moron. 

“Wanna hang out after school?” Evan asks him in the middle of class. 

“Can’t. Family dinner,” Connor says, suddenly remembering. He frowns. “Sorry.”

Fuck that’s going to be _awful._

* * *

Connor’s being weird and it’s kind of freaking Evan out. 

He doesn’t want to push, but he’s… 

He’s annoyed. He’s pissed off that Connor doesn’t trust him or whatever. 

Mostly he just feels helpless. He doesn’t know what to do. 

It’s not like he knows how to be a good friend or whatever. He’s never had a proper friend before Connor, and he never knows if he’s even getting it right. 

And it’s always harder at school. Connor’s always on edge at school, no matter how good a day he’s had because school’s full of fucking idiots who give him shit for no good reason. 

If Evan could just talk to him outside of school, if they could just hang out, maybe it would be okay. 

So it kind of sucks that Connor’s got a family dinner tonight. 

It sucks even more that he seems super bummed out about it. 

Maybe it’s something at home? Maybe something happened over the weekend with his family? Connor’s mom is a total bitch most of the time and Zoe’s not much better. 

Did his mom hit him again?

Oh god, what if she hit him again?

It makes him sick to think about. Sick to his stomach. 

To try to stop himself from just, like, storming over and demanding that Connor tell him what the fuck is going on, Evan decides he’s going to cook. He’s been getting into cooking a lot recently. He likes it. 

Likes being able to feed people or whatever. 

Heidi’s so busy, and it’s not fair that she should have to take care of Evan any more than she already does, so he’s trying to cook as much as he can. It’s kind of fun, actually. Some afternoons he runs into Rosa while he’s cooking, and she’s given him some recipes to try out. 

Tonight he’s making burrito bowls. He’s made them with chicken and he’s used brown rice and honestly, these are pretty healthy. They wouldn’t be bad cold, either. 

He’ll make extra, he decides, so he and Heidi can take food for lunch tomorrow. One for Connor, too. 

A small one for Connor, with lots of vegetables. 

He’s been getting better at eating, Evan thinks. He can see how much effort his friend is putting in. It’s really good. 

Really, really good. 

Connor deserves to be happy and healthy. 

He finds himself thinking about the peach thing at lunch and his cheeks go bright red. He’d never thought about a peach looking like a vagina before. 

But Connor’s got a point. You call things that look like dicks phallic. What do you call things that look like vaginas?

He’s not going to Google it. 

He is absolutely not going to Google it. 

But it sticks in his head enough that he finds himself blurting out the question over dinner. 

“This is totally weird,” he says, not looking at Heidi, “but you know how you can use the word phallic to describe things like that look like dicks? Like cucumbers?” 

Heidi lets out this delighted laugh. “Yes,” she says, sounding like she is dying to know what the hell he’s on about. 

Evan clears his throat. “Is there a word for things that look like…”

He can’t say it. 

He just can’t say it. 

“Like vaginas?” Heidi asks, and he doesn’t have to look at her to know that she’s grinning. She’s clearly loving how embarrassed he is, oh my god. 

Moms are so embarrassing sometimes. 

Obviously she’s not his mom, but… 

Sometimes he forgets. 

She’s so kind and so wonderful and seems to really care about him. 

So sometimes he forgets. 

“Yeah,” he manages to choke out. “Connor asked at lunch w-when I tried to get him to eat half of a peach.”

Heidi bursts out laughing. “Oh my god, bless him.”

“Well, I c-can’t exactly Google it,” Evan mutters. “And n-now that he’s mentioned it I-I, like, need to know or it’s gonna drive me crazy.” He looks at his burrito bowl and stabs it with his fork. “And-and if there’s not a word for it, then that’s j-just sexist bullshit, and I’m g-gonna have to go, like, f-fight a dictionary in the n-name of feminism.”

Heidi laughs even harder. “Please don’t fight a dictionary, Evan.” 

He finally looks at her, and he knows his face is burning, and she’s smiling really big. “There is a word for it,” she says once she gets her laughter under control. “Yonic.”

Great, now he’s going to think of vaginas every time he sees a hedgehog. 

Not that he sees hedgehogs all that often, but.

Yonic the hedgehog. 

Oh god, he’s a disaster. 

Heidi starts laughing even harder and Evan realizes he’s just said all of that out loud. Awesome, he would like to dissolve into the earth now. 

“Laurel would love that,” Heidi says, pulling out her phone. “I’m going to text her now.”

Evan puts his head on the table. “Oh my god.”

“Thank you, Evan, you just made my day,” she continues, sounding so fucking pleased with herself. “Yonic the hedgehog.”

“Cool, so if you could j-just stab me or s-something, that would be great.”

“I thought vaginas weren’t Connor’s thing,” Heidi says after a moment. 

Evan sits up. Shrugs. “Nope,” he says, frowning a little. “I think he was trying to distract me, he’s b-been kind of weird today.”

Heidi frowns immediately, looking a little concerned. “He has?”

Evan shrugs again. “Like, twitchy or whatever. I don’t know what happened, and he won’t tell me, I just…” He feels himself deflate. “I don’t know how to fix it.”

Heidi’s whole face softens. “You can’t always fix everything, sweetheart.” 

“I know that,” he mumbles. 

“All you can really do is let him know you're there for him,” Heidi says sympathetically. She tilts her head for a moment, opens her mouth like she’s going to say something, then closes it. Opens it again a moment later. “I’ve known Connor his entire life,” she reminds him. “And I’ve never seen him open up with anyone the way he does with you. It’s so obvious that he cares about you so much, that he really trusts you.”

Evan feels his heart clench. “But he won’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“Even if you trust someone,” Heidi says carefully, “it’s not always easy to talk about things.” 

Evan nods. 

He knows that. 

He knows that well. 

* * *

They’re having stir fry for dinner. Connor’s dad gets home on time and takes charge. His mom is quiet - she gets quiet now when she’s been drinking. She says little and handles the salad, ripping lettuce up sort of listlessly. Connor’s eye starts twitching somewhere along the line and he can’t make it stop. 

Zoe is late coming home. 

“Zoe,” their dad says when she shows up ten minutes after they’ve sat down to eat. “Did you forget we were doing dinner tonight?”

Zoe rolls her eyes. “These dinners are bullshit,” she says, sitting down at the table and crossing her arms. 

Their dad’s face gets red. There’s this vein in his forehead that pops when he’s really mad. Connor knows it well. Used to pride himself on making it appear. 

Not so much anymore. 

But Connor can’t focus on how mad his dad is because… Zoe is high. 

She’s so obviously high. 

He looks at his mom carefully. She’s drinking water very slowly and deliberately. Not paying attention. 

Their dad starts in on her about how this is a family obligation and she needs to be more responsible and Zoe is just saying nothing. She’s high. 

She is fucking high. 

Connor feels like everyone is just ignoring this fact. Is that what they did when he was obviously high? They just ignored it? 

He has to talk to her. He has to. 

Their dad dismissed them from dinner, clearly irritated, and probably sad and Connor wants to tell him he’s sorry that they suck at being a family suddenly. 

He doubts it’ll help. 

Zoe heads upstairs. 

Connor knows he has to follow her but he’s… not even sure what to fucking say. 

Something tells him that “hey dipshit don’t you remember how bad this can get?” won’t be received well. 

Connor paces his bedroom for a while trying to figure out what the fuck he’s gonna say to his sister. He paces and paces and wishes he knew what he was doing, like, ever. 

Connor goes to the hall. 

Knocks on Zoe’s door. 

She pulls it open, looking annoyed. “Oh. Thought you were dad coming to yell at me.”

Connor shakes his head. 

“Guess you do know how to knock.”

Connor flinches. “Can we talk?”

Zoe crosses her arms. “What about?” She says, frowning. 

Connor raises his eyebrows. 

She sighs and opens her door open just enough for him to slip inside. She closes it. 

Her bedroom looks the same. 

Connor shoves his hands into his pockets and Zoe goes to sit on her bed. 

“Zo…”

“I’m not really interested in whatever it is you have to say,” she says. 

Connor’s not exactly surprised. But he pushes on anyway. “Are you… like. Are you okay?”

Zoe shoots him a look. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Connor swallows uncomfortably. 

Because he caught her having sex with a girl. 

Because she’s high right now. 

Because… she’s his fucking sister and he knows when she’s not okay. He knows. 

“Because I…” Connor doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what he’s fucking doing. He’s clueless and useless but he’s scared for her. “You’re… Saturday?” He says. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Zoe says. 

“Look I… I’m sorry. That I walked in. I didn’t know you were there.”

Zoe shrugs. 

“If you ever… wanted to. Like. Talk?”

Zoe narrows her eyes at him. “Why would I want to talk to _you_?” She says it like he suggested she try howling at the moon to solve her problems. Like he is a special sort of stupid. 

“Just. I’ve been there,” he says desperately. “I know it can be kind of, like, confusing.”

“Why would you assume that you and I have _anything_ in common?” Zoe says. 

Connor stares. 

Because she’s gay. Because she’s high. Because she’s his fucking sister. 

“You’re such a fucking freak,” she says disdainfully. “You’re. Weird and fucked up and you know that I hate you but you still think that I would want to talk to you?”

Connor opens his mouth but nothing comes out. 

It still hurts when she talks to him like that. 

Even if he’s come to expect it. 

He clenches his hands into fists. “You… you’re high,” he blurts. 

Zoe nods happily. “Yup.” She pops the “p” like you might pop your gum. Like how you might crack your knuckles. The sound crackles through Connor’s bones. 

“That’s… what are you on?” He presses on stupidly. 

“Oxy,” she says happily. She smiles brightly. 

Pulls a small bag out of her pocket. 

“Want some?” 

She tips a pill out of the bag and tosses it into her mouth. Swallows it dry. Dangles the bag out in front of him. 

Fuck. 

Fucking fuck. 

“Unlike you,” she goes on, her tone condescending and awful. “I’m not pathetic. I’m not weak. I can actually handle myself. I mean. Look at you. You can’t even eat normally. And your little crush on Evan is getting especially tragic to watch. Why don’t you just blow him and get over it?”

Connor stares. His heart thuds painfully in his chest. He feels like he might be dying. 

“Zoe…”

“You sure you don’t want this?” She taunts, shaking the bag a little. “At least you were tolerable when you were high.”

He needs to get the fuck out of here. 

He needs to _go._

So he does. 

He leaves. Ducks into his room. Shuts the door. 

His hands are shaking. All of him is shaking. This is bad this is bad this is bad bad bad bad bad. 

He should tell his dad. 

He should tell him right now. Zoe has drugs in her room. She has drugs and she’s high and she’s gay. 

It would serve her right. She’d deserve the hell that would follow if he told. 

But. 

If he tells. If he tells about Zoe but not his mom? 

He can’t enable his mom and narc on his sister. He’s a hypocrite if he does that. A damn hypocrite. 

And if his dad finds out about Zoe he’s going to figure out Connor’s been lying about his mom. Or he might not believe him. He might not believe him and Connor wouldn’t be able to take it. He can’t take it he can’t take this. 

He wants to go back into her room and take that fucking pill. He wants it more than he can stand to admit. 

Because he’s weak. He’s pathetic and weak and he can’t be normal no matter how hard he tries. He’s can’t be fucking normal he just can’t. 

He doesn’t know what to do. 

He doesn’t know what to do but he spends the rest of the night turning his options over and over in his head. Tries to stick to the facts, like Evan does. 

  1. Zoe is sleeping with Sabrina. 
  2. Zoe is doing drugs 
  3. His mom is drinking 
  4. Connor is an addict. 
  5. He’s totally fucked no matter what he does or what he says. 



* * *

Connor’s even more freaked out on Tuesday morning. It’s like he’s vibrating, like there’s electricity crackling under his skin, and it makes Evan super fucking nervous. 

They go through Starbucks and Connor gets a huge coffee, like he hasn’t slept. 

He gets Evan a cinnamon bun with his usual coffee order. His face twists a little when he gives it to him. Like he’s trying to apologize for something. 

Evan thinks back to what Heidi said. 

“I’m here,” he says to Connor as they’re leaving Starbucks. “Whatever it is, I’m here.”

Connor blinks rapidly. Nods. 

Evan’s really fucking worried now. 

The worry continues all the way through the day and doesn’t shake when Connor manages maybe three bites of the burrito bowl. Evan desperately wants to say something, wants to just, like, grab his shoulders and shake Connor until he tells Evan what's happening, but he knows it won’t help. 

He just needs to figure it out. 

Something must have happened at home. 

He’s got study hall with Zoe. 

He could ask her?

Except he absolutely could not do that because they aren’t speaking. Zoe’s not acknowledging him in public after their date, is actively making things worse for him, and part of him hates her for it. 

The other part is kind of… freaked out enough that he’s willing to try. 

He’s stupid. He’ll do anything for Connor. 

That’s so fucking weird, he’s being so fucking weird. 

When he gets to study hall, Zoe’s late. She’s giggling and her eyes are…

She’s high. 

She’s definitely high. 

Evan’s not stupid, but _she_ might be, because she’s being so fucking obvious. This is so fucking obvious, everyone can see, she’s not even being subtle, fucking hell. 

He can’t believe the teacher isn’t calling her on it. 

No one is. 

Fucking hell. 

This has to be it, Evan realizes. This has to be what’s freaking Connor out so much. 

Connor’s freaked out because his sister is on drugs, high on something that’s definitely a lot stronger than pot. Evan’s not exactly super knowledgeable about drugs, but he knows that teenagers smoke pot. People at his old school smoked so much fucking weed, it basically permeated the walls. Teachers didn’t care much. 

Some of them were probably high, too. 

But kids here go harder than pot. Evan knows that. 

He doesn’t know Zoe’s on, not exactly, but it’s not good. 

And if it’s in the middle of a fucking school day…

That’s really not good. 

Connor went to rehab. Connor had a drug problem, Connor’s, like, maybe sixteen months clean now and he’s trying so hard and he’s doing so well and…

Zoe’s just, like, casually high in the middle of a school day. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, she’s so fucking stupid. Not just stupid, she’s cruel. 

This is _cruel_ . Her brother has a fucking _drug problem._

Connor must have figured this out, although it’s not like she’s hiding it. And that must be so fucking hard for him. 

So fucking hard to be someone with a drug problem and know there are drugs under your own roof. 

Fuck. 

No wonder he’s twitchy and nervous. 

No fucking wonder. 

Evan thought he’d feel better once he knew what was happening, but he just feels worse. 

Because he has no idea how to fix this.

Connor looks even more exhausted in English, even more stressed out, and it’s not just Evan who notices. Mr. Stevens seems to pick up on it and frowns a little, looking at Evan like he might have some kind of explanation. 

Mr. Stevens is probably his favorite teacher, but there’s no fucking way he’s talking about this with him, fuck. 

When class finishes, Mr. Stevens specifically tells both Connor to have a good afternoon. Connor doesn’t respond, and Evan’s not sure if he just didn’t notice or didn’t care. He seems to be a million miles away. 

Connor’s quiet as they walk to his car and Evan really wishes he weren’t struggling in Driver’s Ed so much, because part of him feels like Connor maybe shouldn’t be behind the wheel right now, but Evan doesn’t know what he’s doing, so he can’t exactly offer to drive. 

They get out of the school parking lot and Evan grabs Connor’s arm gently. 

“Beach house?” he asks, a little desperately. 

Connor hesitates. Frowns. “I should get-”

“Please.” 

Connor’s quiet. 

He doesn’t say anything. 

But he takes a left turn instead of the usual right and heads for the ocean. 

It takes a while for Evan to work out what he’s going to say. How he’s going to say it. He wants to be kind, he wants to be understanding, but he doesn’t want Connor to try to bullshit him here. 

Even though his mom and his sister are kind of fucking awful, Connor always defends them. 

Always. 

Which isn’t fair, considering how Zoe seems to refuse to cut Connor a break ever. She’s been cruel to Connor the whole time Evan’s known them and it isn’t fucking fair. 

It isn’t fair at all. 

They sit on the porch of the beach house and look out at the sea. There are storm clouds gathering on the horizon. 

It smells like a storm. Evan usually likes the smell before a storm, but today it’s just making him more nervous.

Connor lets out this shaky sigh. Sinks back into the loveseat and rubs his face. 

And Evan can’t keep it in any longer. 

“Zoe was high in st-study hall,” he says. “It was super obvious, I have no idea why the teacher didn’t c-call her on it.”

Connor doesn’t react. 

“That’s what’s wrong,” Evan says gently. “Isn’t it? That’s what’s had you all freaked out these past few days. Right?”

Connor swallows hard. 

Looks at the ocean, not at Evan. 

* * *

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. 

Evan knows… 

And Connor can’t. He can’t explain the rest. He can’t. If he tries he’ll fuck up. He’ll ruin everything for himself and everyone else or worse nobody will believe him and… 

He can’t look at Evan. He watches the clouds on the horizon instead. It looks like it’s gonna storm. Connor could use a good storm. Something destructive and distracting. 

“That’s… part of it,” Connor finally says. 

“P-part of it?” Evan says. “What’s the -”

“I can’t,” Connor says, still unable to look at him. He can’t look at him. “I wish I could. God, I wish I fucking could but it… it wouldn’t be fair if I did.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

“It’s not my thing,” Connor says softly. “It’s not my thing and if I told you… I’d be an asshole. So I can’t… Okay? It’s not my thing and I can’t tell you.” 

Evan doesn’t respond at first. 

Connor chances a look at him. He looks crushed. 

“It’s not because I don’t trust you,” Connor presses on, trying to be insistent and keep his voice from shaking. “There’s nobody I trust more than you. And if I could tell someone, it would be you okay? But it’s… it involves people we know and it wouldn’t be fair if I told because I’m not even supposed to know and telling people about it is their business and not mine, okay?” 

Evan still looks hurt but he nods. 

“But… yeah. Zoe’s been high. A lot.” Connor sucks in a shaky breath. “And kind of a bitch to me about it?”

Evan gives him a look. “Why am I n-not surprised?” 

Connor almost smiles. Almost. “She uh.” He doesn’t want to say this but if he doesn’t give Evan something Evan will think it’s because Connor doesn’t trust him and that is not true it is patently not true. “I called her on it. Last night, after dinner? And she… took some oxy. Like. In front of me.” 

“What the fuck?” Evan says. He sounds so fucking pissed. 

“And she… offered me some?” Connor says. His voice shakes a lot as he says it. An embarrassing amount. 

Evan’s posture goes rigid beside him. 

“Did you… d-did you take it?” 

Connor looks out at the ocean. At the rough surf and gathering clouds and… Suddenly he realizes that if he had, Evan would hate him. Evan would be so disappointed in him. Think he was weak and horrible and stupid if he had. He would absolutely stop talking to Connor. 

Wouldn’t he? 

Maybe he wouldn’t. 

Maybe he… 

Connor blinks a few times out at the water. Tries to breathe. Just breathe. In. Out. Just fucking breathe. “You’d hate me if I said yes, wouldn’t you?”

“ _Connor.”_

Connor shakes his head. “Sixteen months and… and it could all be over in just like. One second. I could have just… fucked up everything in one fucking second. And then you’d hate me, and my parents would hate me, and it’s all because I’m so… stupid. And weak. I’m stupid and weak and pathetic.” 

“Did you take it?” Evan repeats. 

Connor shakes his head again. “No.” He pushes his hand through his hair. “But I thought about it. I was up all night thinking about it. How I could just… go into her room and take it. How I could… just…” He looks at Evan, pleading, something horrible trying to work its way out of him. “I don’t want to be like this.” 

* * *

“You don’t want to be like what?” Evan asks quietly. 

“Stupid,” Connor says darkly, “and pathetic and weak and-”

“You are none of those things.” 

Connor shakes his head. “But I-”

“You didn’t take it,” Evan interrupts firmly. “You didn’t take it. You made that choice and you chose no. Like you did in D.C.”

Connor’s blinking rapidly. “But I wanted to, I-”

“It’s easy to do something you want to do,” Evan points out. “It’s really fucking easy to do something you want to do. So not doing it is a really, really big deal.”

Connor looks like he’s about to burst into tears. “But I _wanted_ to,” he says, his voice breaking, and it makes something inside Evan break as well. “I don’t want to want to, but I do, and I hate it. I fucking hate it, I…” He wraps his arms around his middle. Like he’s trying to make himself smaller. 

Evan wishes that he wouldn’t. 

Connor is too wonderful for that. There is so much of him that is just completely wonderful that it kills Evan a little bit that he tries to make himself less. 

“I wouldn’t hate you if you’d taken it,” Evan tells him, as slowly and steadily as he can. “I wouldn’t. And it wouldn’t ruin everything, it wouldn’t…” He takes a deep breath. Tries to explain. “It wouldn’t make those sixteen months any less important. And it wouldn’t make you weak.” 

Connor snorts. “Yeah right.”

“You choose it every day,” Evan reminds him. “This isn’t, like… fucking _Jenga_ or whatever.”

Connor looks at him, eyebrows raised. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Evan lets out an exasperated sigh. “You know, Jenga, with the… with the blocks? You keep trying to build a taller tower and the taller the tower is, the more it sucks when it all falls down?”

Connor’s face clouds over. He lets out this humorless laugh. “I don’t know, maybe it’s exactly like fucking Jenga,” he mutters. “I’m really fucking bad at Jenga, too.”

Evan looks at him. “You’re not… fucking hell, Connor.” He tries to find the words. “I wish you weren’t so hard on yourself.” 

Connor shrugs. “I’m a spoiled rich kid from Orange County with a drug problem, Evan, it’s not like I deserve any fucking sympathy here. Some people have-”

“If you tell me that some people have real problems I will punch you in the face.”

Connor pauses. Looks at Evan, eyes wide. 

Evan feels like screaming. Feels like taking this stupid boy by his shoulders and telling him to stop beating himself up. 

“You have a drug problem,” Evan says after a moment, “and your sister knows that. She fucking knows, and she’s offering you drugs? Doing drugs in front of you? That is just… cruel. Cruel and-and-and just... low, it is a fucking garbage move and she is fucking garbage-”

“She’s my sister,” Connor interrupts fiercely. “She’s my sister, you can’t talk about her like that.”

“How come what she says about you is okay, huh?” Evan shoots back. “H-how come it’s okay for her to-to-to out you to me, to go around telling p-people she hates you, to c-call you… to c-call you Quitter, to make fun of your fucking suicide attempt, how is any of this _fucking_ okay, Connor?”

“Because I deserve it!” Connor shouts. 

Evan shakes his head. “You don’t, there’s no way you-”

“I can’t hate her for the way she’s acting when she’s high,” Connor interrupts firmly. “Because I was worse. I was so much fucking worse.”

* * *

Evan looks unconvinced. 

But Connor knows better. He knows better. 

“Look, you don’t know. You didn’t know me then, okay? I was… fuck I was such an asshole. I said so much shit to her that I don’t even remember, I just know I was pissed off and she was… the easiest target.” Connor feels like he needs to get this out, he needs to explain because Evan is looking at him like he deserves pity but he does not. He doesn’t. He was so much worse to Zoe. So much worse. “I… She was fourteen, Evan. She was in fucking middle school. She sh-should have been worried about, like, sleepovers and-and jazz band and instead she had to put up with me. I was high all of the time and I was… A fucking monster. You think her making fun of me for my own stupidity is bad but you have no idea what I did to her. She’s allowed to hate me.” 

Evan crosses his arms over his chest. “But she called you -”

“Everyone calls me that, okay?” Connor says. “I don’t _care._ It’s what I fucking am, it’s… That’s what I deserve okay? Because I was so fucking awful to her…” He shakes his head. Tries to swallow. “I… Do you know what my last memory of me and her is before I ended up in the hospital freshman year? She pissed me off about… something. I don’t even know what. But I was high and I was angry and I… I called her a cunt. She was, like, an eighth-grader and I called her a cunt and chased her up the stairs and nearly broke down her door because I was ready to, like, hurt her or-or kill her over something I don’t even remember anymore.” 

Evan looks horrified. 

“I was so much worse than she’s being,” Connor says, almost pleads. “I was… I was… Fuck I should probably be locked up for the shit I did.” 

Evan swallows loud enough for Connor to hear. “Did you ever actually touch her? Hit her?”

Connor shakes his head. “No, she… she got smart and scared of me. She hid a lot.” He looks out toward the storm clouds again. “But I _wanted_ to. I wanted to hurt her. She was… an easy target and I just… I didn’t care. It’s like. It’s like she wasn’t even a person to me anymore and there is… no excuse for that. Drugs or no drugs, treating someone… treating your family like that? Only a monster would do that.” 

“You’re not a monster.” 

Connor laughs. 

“You had a problem,” Evan pushes. “You h-have a problem and you’re-you’re working on it -”

Connor feels like screaming or just, like, shaking Evan. “You said your dad likes beer.” 

Evan freezes. “Yeah.” 

“When he used to beat the shit out of you, was he drunk?” 

Evan’s silent. 

“Was that an excuse for him?” 

Evan looks like maybe he might cry. 

“I’m… fuck I’m as bad as he is. Being high isn’t a fucking excuse, okay? I had no right to treat her how I did and I… I can’t do anything to fucking make up for it. So she wants to be a shithead to me? Fine. It’s fine. I’ll take it because I probably deserve _worse_.” 

Evan shakes his head. “You’re _nothing_ like him.” 

Connor doesn’t believe him. “You’re full of shit. Stop making excuses for me because you… know me now.” 

“I’m n-not,” Evan says, his voice shaking but his face determined. “Because you know what my dad n-never even tried to do? Get fucking sober. Try to be better.” 

“Yeah well, my parents sent me to this fancy-ass rehab to take care of it -”

“And it worked, didn’t it?” Evan demands. “Are you or are you not clean?”

“It doesn't make up for -”

“I’m not saying that it does,” Evan says fiercely. “But-but not being high is a good fucking start. And Zoe trying to-to jeopardize that? That’s low and cr-cruel and -”

“She’s my little sister,” Connor says desperately. “You don’t… you don’t have siblings, you don’t get it. We don’t get along but… but I’d like. Give her my heart right out of my chest if she needed it to keep living, you know? And I hurt her so much. I hurt her in the worst ways… and if she needs to take it out on me in return that’s fine because… that’s the only thing I can do now.” 

Evan shakes his head. “I don’t like it.” 

“Don’t need you to like it,” Connor says, echoing Evan’s words about his backpack full of an escape plan. “You don’t get it. And that’s… I don’t expect you to. But you can’t tell me she’s being irredeemably cruel when you don’t know the half of how bad I treated her.” 

* * *

Evan hates this. 

Hates it a lot. 

He looks out to the ocean, hoping that he’ll figure out something to say to make this all better. To make this make sense somehow. 

“If things were r-really that bad when you were high,” he begins after a while, “th-then why would she…” He clears his throat. “She knows. She knows how bad it can be and she… she has to have made a decision at some point. If things were as b-bad as you say that they are then how can she-”

“Because being a teenage girl is a fucking nightmare, apparently.”

Evan rolls his eyes. “She’s a hot blonde from Orange County, she-”

“No.”

Evan looks at Connor. Raises his eyebrows. “No?”

Connor shakes his head. “You don’t get to feel bad for me and talk about her like that, okay? You don’t get to dismiss what she’s going through. We’re not… we’re not that different.”

“You’re completely different,” Evan argues.

Connor shakes his head. “No,” he says simply. “We’re not.” He looks at the water. “And she’s not a real blonde, so.”

Evan rolls his eyes again. “Semantics.”

Connor laughs a little. 

They sit quietly for a while. 

“What do you mean you’re not that different?” Evan asks after a moment. He feels like that’s… important. Like he’s trying to say something. 

Connor goes a little pale. Shakes his head. “She’s dealing with some shit,” he says cautiously. “But it’s not mine to tell.”

Evan frowns. “I don’t like that it’s upsetting you this much.”

“Yeah, I’m not exactly a fan, either,” Connor says immediately. “But like I said, it’s not mine.” He shrugs. “She’s hurting. She’s lashing out. I just need to, like, suck it up and get over it. It’s nothing I haven’t done to her.”

Evan snorts. “What, you’ve outed her?”

Connor’s quiet for a moment, then he speaks. “Obviously not.”

It hangs in the air for a while. 

Connor looks at Evan. “Wanna go get a milkshake?”

Evan raises his eyebrows. “You want a milkshake?”

Connor shrugs. “I don’t know what I want right now,” he says, a little wearily. “But a milkshake’s as good as anything else, I suppose.”

Connor stands up. Stretches. 

He seems… calmer. 

Not calm, exactly, just… calmer. 

Like maybe he’s figured some shit out. Like maybe talking did help. 

Evan hopes it helped. He always wants to help.

* * *

Alana’s waiting by her locker after school on Thursday.

She waits by lockers like she does everything - efficiently, and with a plan. 

“Sabrina!” she calls out the minute she sees her. 

Sabrina heads closer. Smiles as best she can. 

Smiling’s all she can do at the moment. 

Zoe’s freezing her out. Hasn’t talked to her in days. Madison’s following her around like some kind of puppy and ignoring Sabrina too, which honestly she could care less about. 

It’s taking everything she has to keep Michael from suspecting that something’s wrong. To keep him from seeing that she’s fucking falling apart. 

She’s finally cracked and told him she’d had a fight with Zoe this morning. Doesn’t tell him any details, just tells him that they’d had a falling out. 

He’s been so gentle with her since then. 

So nice. 

She feels like a complete asshole. 

“Hey Alana,” Sabrina says, hoping her smile holds up. “You good?”

“Coffee,” Alana says, her voice matter of fact. “We should have some.”

Sabrina feels something inside her clench. Go a little cold. 

This is a bad idea. 

Talking to Alana is a bad idea right now. 

She and Alana may not be close anymore, but they used to be, and Alana’s smart. Observant. She can always tell when something’s not quite right. 

Which is probably why she’s suggesting coffee.

Sabrina wants to tell her she’s busy. To make some excuse. 

But Michael has water polo practice and Zoe’s not speaking to her and she’s so fucking alone. 

So fucking lost. 

“Okay.”

They go through the Starbucks drive-thru. Alana complains the whole time about coffee cups being bad for the environment, but she still orders a frappuccino. 

“We should go sit on the beach,” Alana says decisively. “I feel that it’s important for my personal wellbeing to spend more time in nature.”

Sabrina doesn’t know if sitting on the beach counts as spending time in nature, but she drives them to Alana’s parents’ beach house and they walk for a bit. Find a chunk of driftwood and look out to where the sea meets the sky. 

“You and Zoe aren’t speaking,” Alana says after a while. “Everyone’s talking about it.” She takes a sip of her drink. “It’s hard to ignore, even for someone like me who prefers to avoid gossip.”

Sabrina can’t help roll her eyes. Alana may profess to not care about high school gossip but she’s got her finger on the pulse. She knows what’s happening. 

Alana knows everything. 

Fuck. 

She probably knows what’s happened. She probably figured it out somehow. 

Sabrina wouldn’t put it past her. 

She’s so tired. 

She’s so fucking tired. 

She’s sad and confused and angry and frustrated and just… lost. 

So lost. 

“I had sex with Michael Paterson on Friday night.”

Alana nods, like this is a logical thing. “Everyone knows you’ve been seeing each other. One of the theories as to why you and Zoe aren’t speaking is that Zoe wants Michael to herself.”

Sabrina laughs at that. “No, I can tell you pretty confidently that’s not the case. Zoe thinks he’s, like, the human equivalent of plain white toast.”

Alana laughs a little as well. “I will admit, he is… very white.” She looks at Sabrina. “What’s going on?”

“I thought you preferred to avoid gossip.”

Alana doesn’t let up. “You’re my friend,” she says simply. “I can tell you’re hurting. Maybe talking about it will help.”

Sabrina looks out to the horizon. 

Watches the sun and the sea connect. 

“I’m pretty sure I’m gay.”

The minute she says the words, she feels… lighter. 

Free. 

Like a huge weight has been lifted, and…

Fuck. 

Fuck, she didn’t… 

She didn’t know it would feel like that. 

She didn’t know that saying it out loud would feel like that. 

She looks at Alana, who is looking at her with such kindness on her face that it makes her want to cry. “Have you said that out loud before?” she asks. 

Sabrina shakes her head. 

Alana smiles. “Thank you,” she says quietly, “for sharing that with me.” 

Sabrina lets out a shaky breath. “Thank you for listening.”

They sit quietly for a while, both looking out to the water, drinking their coffees. 

“So what are you going to do?” Alana asks gently.

“I don’t know,” she whispers. “I don’t… if I tell people, it’s going to change everything.”

“It will,” Alana agrees cautiously. “I won’t lie to you, being out isn’t easy. Especially at this school. There’s such an ingrained culture of homophobia.” She looks at Sabrina intently. “But you won’t be alone. You aren’t the only one.”

Sabrina feels her eyes fill with tears. “I know I’m not,” she says shakily. “I know there are other girls who are openly gay.” She shrugs. “Just Connor for the guys, though.”

Alana nods. “I’m fairly sure there are other queer guys in this school. Probably other girls as well. Maybe even some people who don’t identify with the gender they were assigned at birth. There is such a wide variety of sexuality and gender expression, it’s…” Her face softens a little. “It’s kind of beautiful, in a way.”

Sabrina nudges Alana with her shoulder. “Look at you, getting all sentimental.”

Alana looks at her, something serious in her expression. “I have so much pride in my identity as a queer black woman.” It’s such an intense thing to say that part of Sabrina wants to laugh, but it’s also kind of… powerful. 

Strong. 

Something about that… calls to Sabrina, in a way. 

A way she can’t quite put into words. 

“I don’t know if I’m quite ready to wave the rainbow flag in public,” Sabrina says hesitantly. “I don’t know if I can come out.”

Alana nods. “That makes sense.”

Sabrina looks at the horizon. 

“But I don’t know if I can stay in, either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "Sugar We're Going Down" by Fall Out Boy.


	40. Best Friends, Ex-Friends Til The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sabrina posts a MySpace bulletin, and Zoe just wants to be normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **PLEASE READ THE TAGS ON THIS FIC BEFORE READING THIS CHAPTER. PLEASE CHECK THE WARNINGS BEFORE READING. CONTENT WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER.**

On Friday after school, Michael asks Sabrina if she wants to go see a movie. 

She tells them no. That he’s nice, but she doesn’t think it’s going to work out between them. 

Then she gets into her car. Drives along the coast for a while until she finds a part of the beach that’s deserted but not someone's private property. 

Takes off her shoes, wades into the ocean up to her mid-thigh and looks out over the horizon. Lets the waves crash over her a little bit. 

She should learn how to surf. 

She’s always liked watching people surf. She could do that. Be someone who surfs. 

She’ll be seventeen next month. She can be whoever the fuck she wants. 

Maddie was supposed to be throwing her a birthday party at her parent’s beach house the Saturday after her birthday. They’d been talking about it for ages. Zoe had basically, like, bullied her into agreeing to host it, after the shitshow that was Zoe’s sweet sixteen. 

Sabrina thinks that Maddie only agreed because her sweet sixteen back in January had been, like, the first big great party of 2007, according to everyone who matters. Maddie will probably make sure to make Sabrina’s way less impressive so she gets to keep that prestige. 

Fucking hell. 

Is this what matters? 

Is this who she is? 

She looks out to the horizon and all of a sudden she sees her entire life spread out in front of her. It’s full of parties and social events and fancy dresses and juice cleanses and putting so much effort into everything she does to impress people she doesn’t like. 

The idea makes her kind of ill. 

No, not ill. That’s not quite right. 

It pisses her off. 

Why should that be her life? Her future? 

It’s like talking to Alana yesterday ripped down some kind of curtain and now she sees it all clearly and it’s bullshit. It's all bullshit. 

And this is what she’s afraid of losing? This is what she’s afraid of burning down? 

Fuck that. 

Fuck all of this. 

Light it all up. 

All of it. 

She walks right into the water in her sundress, not caring that she’s going to get it wet. It’s stupid and symbolic and weird, but it makes her feel like she has some kind of control over things. 

After what might be minutes but might be hours, she heads back to her car. Wrings out the water from her dress as best she can, then gets in and drives to the Murphys’ place. 

Lets herself in through the front door, doesn’t even bother knocking or being polite. She’s here often enough. She heads up the stairs and into Zoe’s room to find her sitting at her dresser, putting on mascara. 

“You not talking to me sucks,” Sabrina announces. “I really hate it.”

Zoe’s eyes go wide at the sight of her. “Sabrina, what the fuck?”

“This week has really, really sucked,” Sabrina continues, moving closer toward her. She feels a little giddy, like this isn’t really happening. “I broke up with Michael.”

Zoe stares at her. “What? Why?”

Sabrina stares right back. “You know why,” she says firmly. “You  _ know _ .”

Zoe looks almost pissed off. “That’s so stupid, why would you do that?” 

“Well, I’m gay, so there’s that.” 

Zoe freezes. Shakes her head. “No. No, you’re not.”

“I told Alana,” Sabrina says. “I told her I’m gay.”

Zoe’s face drains of color. “Did you tell her about me? What the fuck, Sabrina.” 

Sabrina shakes her head. “I didn’t say anything about you. But it felt really good to say it out loud. It felt good to not be  _ lying  _ anymore.” She sits on the edge of Zoe’s bed, not caring that she’s still kind of damp, that her clothes are sticking to her, that she’s pretty sure her dress is a little bit see-through right now. “Aren’t you sick of lying, Zoe?”

Zoe’s eyes are wide. “I’m not-”

“I don’t want to keep lying.” 

* * *

Okay, so Sabrina has clearly lost her fucking mind. 

Good. That clears some things up. 

She’s lost it completely. 

“I don’t want to keep lying,” Sabrina says. She sounds so… resolved. Like she’s given this a lot of thought and come to an appropriate conclusion. 

Except she has absolutely fucking not. She’s lost her fucking mind. Zoe tells her so. “You've lost your mind,” She says. “I don’t know what you’re talking about -”

“Yes you do,” Sabrina says. She says it like she’s absolutely certain. “You  _ do.  _ I know you do. I can feel it. You feel the same way I feel -”

“No, I -”

“You’re lying,” Sabrina says. And she sounds so sad. “I wish you would at least be honest with me.” 

Zoe feels like she might be sick. “I’m not… I’m not  _ gay,  _ Sabrina,” She says. She knows how it sounds. Whiny and a little pleading. “I… maybe this is like some big gay revelation for you, but I… I know I like guys. I’ve always liked guys, ever since I was little! I’m not… this isn’t... “ 

She doesn’t know what it is. Or isn’t. What she is or isn’t. 

But she knows she does like boys. She’s always liked boys. She wasn’t faking it with Evan. She liked him. She wanted to have sex with him. She liked kissing him, liked touching him. She even liked blowing Brian Harris at the Valentine’s Gala until he was a jerk about it. It made her feel like… she had some kind of power over him. 

And sure she didn’t like any of those things nearly as much as she likes it when Sabrina goes down on her, but… she still liked them. 

“It’s… It’s just confusing,” Zoe admits. 

She doesn’t know why. She should just tell Sabrina she’s fucking insane and to get the hell out of her house. But instead, she sits next to her on the bed. “I’m… It just. It doesn’t make sense,” She tries to explain. “I do… like you. I like when we…” She can’t say it. “But I like boys. I know I like boys.” 

Sabrina looks almost sympathetic. “It’s okay if you’re confused.”

“No,” Zoe says, shaking her head. “I said it’s confusing. Not that I’m confused. I know what I want.” 

“And what’s that?” Sabrina says. She sounds kind of breathless. 

“I want… I want to go back to the way things were before last weekend,” Zoe says. “I don’t want to, like, talk about it. I just want things to go back to normal.”

“You think having sex in secret and lying about the fact that we’re together is normal?” Sabrina says, looking hurt. 

“We’re not together,” Zoe says. “And it’s not… it’s not sex. It’s not, I’m sorry, but it’s not. It’s just… fooling around.” She shakes her head stubbornly. “It’s not -”

“It  _ is  _ real,” Sabrina says. She looks so hurt, so sad. 

“Well, I don’t want it to be!” Zoe says. “I want to be normal! I want to be a normal girl who, like, hooks up with guys and goes to the prom and… has friends and goes to parties. I want to be fucking  _ normal _ .”

* * *

The word is like a slap in the face. 

Normal. 

Part of her wants to just start screaming. She doesn’t…

Fuck. 

Fuck that. 

Fuck all of it. 

“We live in fucking Orange County,” Sabrina says firmly. “My dad’s a doctor. Your dad’s a lawyer. Everyone we know is rich and stupid and vapid as hell. We live in these identical mansions with more rooms than people and have more money than God, what about this is normal?”

Zoe’s cheeks go red. “Hey, I didn’t ask for any of this-”

“And I didn’t ask to like girls!” Sabrina practically shouts. “I didn't ask for any of this, it just happened, it just is! Who gets to decide what’s normal, huh? Who says?” 

“Everyone!”

“Everyone can go fuck themselves,” Sabrina says. “I didn’t ask for this, I didn’t decide this, I just…  _ am _ . I’ve been busting my ass for trying to fit in here, trying to be normal or whatever, trying to make friends with the right kind of people so my mom would be happy, and I’m exhausted. I’ve been fighting so hard to be something I’m not and I just can’t do it anymore.”

Zoe shakes her head. Sets her jaw defiantly. “Some of us don’t have to try so hard,” she says acidly. “Don’t have to try at all. It’s not a fucking effort for me, Sabrina.”

Sabrina feels her chest clench painfully. “Then why have you been high all week?”

Zoe’s face drains of all color. “Shut the fuck up.”

“I’m not an idiot,” Sabrina snaps. “And we… we talked about drugs,” she says, remembering a drunken conversation at the beginning of the school year. “You said that you saw how fucked up your brother got in his freshman year and you didn’t want to-”

“I’m not like him,” Zoe snaps. “Shut the fuck up, I’m nothing like him, how fucking dare you.” She blinks a few times, then fixes Sabrina with a look. “And I’m not like  _ you,  _ either. You say that it’s hard for you to be normal? Hard for you to fit in? Of course it is, Sabrina, because your family isn’t as important as mine.” 

Sabrina feels that like a punch to the chest. 

Zoe’s never said that. 

Never said that out loud. 

She knows, of course. Has always known that the Murphys matter around here. That even though she’s a drunk disaster, Cynthia Nichols has more social capital in her left toe than Sabrina’s mom is ever going to have. 

“You know that,” Zoe continues. “It’s the whole reason we’re friends. It’s the only reason you even talked to me back when we first started hanging out. Because I’m Cynthia Nichol’s daughter and your mom is a desperate social climber.” 

Sabrina doesn’t know what to say. 

Until she does. 

“Mom told me to talk to you,” she admits quietly. “But I kept talking to you because I liked you. Because you’re funny and smart and kind and gorgeous and-”

“I’m not fucking gay, Sabrina.” 

“Yeah, well, you’re pretty good at eating pussy for a straight girl.”

Zoe’s face is white. She’s shaking with anger. 

“Get out.”

Sabrina stands up. Swallows hard. “I’m done lying,” she says simply. “I’m done.”

Zoe stands up, too. “If you tell anyone about us,  _ we’re _ done. Is that what you want?”

No.

No, it’s not what Sabrina wants. 

Not even a little bit. 

But she can’t keep lying. 

She just can’t do it. 

So she leaves. 

* * *

_ Fuck.  _

Fuck Sabrina. Fuck she’s such a fucking cunt she’s such a bitch Zoe hates her she hates her she hates her. 

Zoe just stares at her bedroom door and shakes with anger. She could  _ kill  _ Sabrina. 

She could kill her. 

If she tells anyone, Zoe will kill her. 

Sabrina left her door wide open. She sees Connor coming down the hall. He gives her a look. 

“What the fuck are you looking at, Quitter?” She spits. 

Connor flinches. 

For a second she thinks this is finally the thing that would bring him back to being his usual asshole self. That he’s finally gonna crack and lose it on her. Hurt her scream at her. 

His eyes are glassy. 

He just. Sighs sadly. 

Goes into his bedroom and softly shuts the door. 

She wants him to yell at her. She wants him to freak out. She needs someone other than Sabrina to be mad at. Someone other than herself. 

Why won’t he fucking yell at her? 

Zoe storms out into the hall. Throws Connor’s bedroom door open. 

He’s just standing there. No shirt on. 

He looks like a skeleton. 

“What the fuck?” Connor shouts. He grabs another shirt from his drawer. “Knock much?”

Zoe’s eyebrows go up. “What the fuck is your fucking problem?”

Connor pulls his head through the shirt. Pulls it over his too skinny chest. She can see his ribs. From the front. Under his chest. 

“The fucking sprinkler got me. What is  _ your  _ fucking problem?”

Zoe approaches him. Gets in his face. Pushes against his tiny sunken chest. “My problem is that I have a freak for a fucking brother.”

Connor looks shocked. Hurt. 

But she doesn’t fight back when she pushes him again. He says  _ nothing.  _

“I hate you,” Zoe shouts. “You think you're _reformed_ or whatever since you got sober but we both know the truth. You’re a _monster_. I’m so sick of Evan acting like I’m the asshole because I yelled at you a little when you almost killed me when I was _fourteen._ You should see him in study hall. He’s like your pathetic one man defense squad. It’s bullshit. You should tell him what you’re _really_ like. How you used to throw shit at me and chase me into my bedroom so much that mom and dad had to install a lock on the fucking door. You should tell your little friend _that_.”

“Zoe I… I am so sorry,” Connor chokes out. His eyes are shiny and his nose and cheeks are red. 

She doesn’t care. “You should have fucking killed yourself when you had the chance.”

Connor looks crushed. Utterly crushed. 

Good. 

Good he deserves it. 

* * *

Sabrina’s kind of surprised Michael texts her back, and even more surprised that he’s willing to meet her for coffee on Saturday. He even smiles when he sees her at Starbucks, something hopeful in his eyes. 

Fuck. She hopes she’s not about to crush this guy again. He’d seemed genuinely bummed when she broke up with him.

Once they’ve both ordered coffees, she finds them somewhere to sit that’s out of the way, so no one can overhear them. 

“Thanks for meeting me here,” she says awkwardly once they’re alone. “I, uh, I wanted to tell you something.”

He looks nervous, but a good kind of nervous. 

Fuck. 

He thinks she’s going to tell him that she made a mistake calling things off. 

“I wanted you to hear it from me first,” she says after a moment. 

His face falls immediately. He looks crushed. 

“There’s someone else,” he says sadly. “You’re going out with some other guy.”

She shakes her head. “No, that’s not it.” She smiles a little. “Trust me, it’s really not. I, uh…” She steadies herself as best she can. “I want to give you a head’s up that I’m… I’m coming out.”

Michael frowns a little. “Out of where?”

“I’m gay.”

Michael just stares at her for a long time. 

A comically long time. 

It looks like he’s genuinely speechless. 

“I think I’ve known for a while,” she continues, trying desperately to explain. “I just didn’t want to admit it. Not even to myself. But I know now that I can’t keep lying about it, I have to… I have to be honest about who I really-”

“We had sex,” Michael interrupts flatly. “And now you’re gay?”

She tries to smile. “I was always gay, it wasn’t like… your penis didn’t turn me gay, that’s not it.”

“Why would you go out with me if you knew you were gay?”

“I wanted to be normal.”

Michael flinches. Blinks. Looks at her unhappily. 

“Did you like me at all?”

Sabrina feels like a total bitch. “I really did,” she tells him honestly. “You are the nicest guy, and I really, really liked getting to know you. And I hope we can still be friends.”

His face twists. “We weren’t really friends before. Just… people who knew each other.”

Fuck. She really hates this a lot. 

“You’re so great, Michael,” she tells him. “And you’re going to meet someone who’s so much better for you, someone who appreciates you the way you deserve.”

He frowns. Something strange crosses his face. “How am I going to do that,” he begins slowly, “if you’re going to tell everyone you’re gay? People know that we were a thing, people saw us. They’re… they’re going to think that it was my fault, that I turned you gay.”

Fuck. Fuck. “It wasn’t your fault, I swear, it just-”

“Please don’t do this.”

Sabrina blinks. “Do what?”

Michael looks right at her. “Don’t tell people. At least not right now, give me some time to… how do you think this is going to make me look?”

She’s trying to hold it together but he looks sad and pissed off and she has to do this, she has to, there’s no going back now. “It’s not about you.”

“Couldn’t you wait until senior year to come out?” Michael pleads. “Or the summer at least, just… this is not how I want to finish high school. I don’t want everyone to think that I turned you gay, I-”

“I have to do this,” she interrupts firmly. “I have to do this, for me, and it’s really fucking selfish of you to ask me not to.”

He stares at her. “ _ I’m _ the one being selfish? This doesn’t only affect you-”

“Except that it  _ does  _ only affect me,” she snaps at him. “Because it’s  _ my  _ life. You don’t… I know that I’m going to fucking lose everything when I do this. I know that.”

“You don’t need to drag me down with you!”

Sabrina stands up. “Look, I wanted you to hear it from me first,” she says coldly. “As, like, a kindness. But if you’re going to be an asshole about it, then fuck you.”

“Sabrina, come on.”

She ignores him and leaves Starbucks immediately. Gets in her car and turns on the radio and just… screams for a minute. 

Fuck this. 

Fuck everything. 

She has… no idea if she’s doing the right thing. No idea. 

Zoe is telling her not to. Michael is telling her not to. Alana said it was up to her. 

The only person who’s saying ‘yes, go for it’ is her. 

This small, quiet part of herself that she’s only just learning to listen to. 

That she’s been ignoring for too long now. 

She owes it to herself to do this, no matter what Zoe or Michael think. 

No matter what happens. 

When she gets home, she opens up her laptop. Logs in to MySpace. 

Looks at her profile for a long moment. 

Zoe and Madison are in her top 8 friends. One and two. 

She’ll have to change that, probably. 

She hits Post Bulletin. 

It takes her a while to figure out what she’s going to say. How she’s going to do this. The exact words she says aren’t going to matter anyway. 

What’s going to matter is what she’s saying. 

It’s short and kind of glib and she talks about the hot lead singer from Paramore at the end, but it’ll do. 

It’s honest, at least. 

It takes her a moment to work up the courage to pull the trigger, but when she does she feels… powerful.

Sabrina can see that she’s got, like, 30 friends online. She’s basically friends with everyone at school on MySpace, even if she doesn’t actually talk to them. 

It takes a little while for the bulletin to post, but she knows that it has when she gets a series of messages from Madison. 

**wtf sabrina r u srs?**

**eww**

**so gross**

**r u 4 real? is this a joke???**

**donttalk 2me u fuckn dyke**

She can’t say she didn’t see that coming. At least Madison’s predictable. 

There are other messages, too. And comments. A lot of the comments are just… garbage. People being hateful assholes. 

They’re people she didn’t like anyway.

Fuck them. 

Aimee Harding sends her a message, telling her she’s brave and to hang in there. Sabrina barely knows Aimee, but she knows that she’s gay. 

The comments and messages keep pouring in. She’s about to just log off when she sees a name she recognizes. 

She clicks into the message. 

**Hey, hope you’re okay. That was really brave of you.**

**Stupid, but brave.**

**PS: If I was straight I would also totally bang Hayley Williams.**

It takes her a while to figure out how to respond. In the end, she goes for short and simple. 

**Thanks Connor.**

* * *

Evan’s at the beach house with Heidi this weekend. She’s off and they’re spending time together so Connor is trying to not be a giant clinger and text Evan every five seconds. 

He really wishes Evan had invited him to go though. 

The shit Zoe said to him last night is still rolling around in his head. He can’t make it stop. 

She didn’t get home until four o’clock in the morning. He waited up. He’s been waiting up when she goes out. And Evan says she was high the other day and she taunted him with pills and he’s scared. 

He knows the right thing to do is to tell his dad. He knows. 

But what if he doesn’t believe him? 

Connor doesn’t know if he could handle that. He truly doesn’t think he could. 

So he tries to keep distracted. 

Connor tools around on MySpace a little on Saturday. He updates the songs on his profile to be from  _ Infinity on High.  _

Finally takes Miguel out of his top eight. Can’t bring himself to totally delete him but they are definitely not friends anymore. 

It’s been a long time coming. 

There’s something sort of ironic about the fact that Zoe is now his number one friend and they aren’t even speaking but. Evan doesn't have MySpace and he’s not even really friends with anyone else at school. 

He reads through some bulletins. People answering survey questions. Some weird stories are going around and one of them is definitely from a book he read so he reposts it. 

And then something else catches Connor’s eye. 

A bulletin from Sabrina Patel. 

**_Subject:_ ** _ I’m gay (not a joke) _

Connor feels his heart start to race. 

Fuck did… did she and Zoe talk about this? Are they both coming out? Was that what pissed her off so much? 

He didn’t know. 

He doesn’t know. 

He clicks the bulletin to read the message. 

**_Subject:_ ** _ I’m gay (not a joke) _

_ I’m sick of pretending I’m something I’m not. I’m sick of lying to everyone, including myself. So I’m being honest and coming out, on my terms.  _

_ I’m gay. _

_ I like girls.  _

_ Sabrina Patel is a lesbian, you heard it here first. _

_ I haven’t been hacked, this is totally real. _

_ Admitting this is probably going to make my life so much harder. I’m not naive enough to think that this isn’t going to change basically everything for me. And I’m not gonna lie, that's scary as hell.  _

_ But at least I’ll be real. At least I’ll be authentic and genuine and maybe I’ll be happy.  _

_ And don’t we all deserve that? To be happy? _

_ PS: If anyone knows the lead singer of Paramore, you should totally give her my number. 10/10 would bang.  _

Fuck. 

She doesn’t mention Zoe… 

Which is probably good but. 

Holy shit. 

Fuck that was a stupid thing to do. Why would she do this? If Connor had the choice, he’d go back in the closet in a fucking heartbeat. He wouldn’t have chosen to come out in high school. 

He never officially did of course. But people knew. And he’s never denied it. And then his mom announced it to everyone at cotillion so. 

Connor can’t believe Sabrina did that. 

Fuck that was  _ dumb.  _ She’s going to get made fun of so much. And she’s popular too. People will _ know  _ now. Seriously why would she fucking come out publicly?

It’s kind of brave, Connor thinks. 

Stupid as fuck. Definitely going to make her life way harder. 

But brave. Definitely brave. Opening yourself up like that. 

He could never do it. 

Had he had the choice, nobody would know about him at school. Hell, even when Miguel asked, Connor tried to deny it at first. 

The only person he’s ever explicitly confirmed it for with words is… Evan. 

And if Zoe hadn’t outed him? 

It probably would have taken him a long time to actually admit it. He’s never actually come out to anyone on his own terms. 

He wonders what it feels like. Does it feel good? Scary? Both?

Being outed is fucking scary. 

Connor chews his lip. Bites the inside of his cheek. 

Sabrina is kinda badass. If he thinks about it. It’s pretty cool that she just… did that. 

Connor respects that. A lot. 

He hopes it’s not because she’s scared he would tell people. He wouldn’t have. It’s not his thing to say. 

But still. Damn. She really just did that. 

He’s impressed. Someone in this fucked up place is brave. Braver than him, that’s for damn sure. 

He ought to say something. There’s not a lot of fucking solidarity at this school. Connor should tell her she’s badass and brave and awesome for doing this. 

He starts typing. 

Erases the message a few times. 

Finally thinks he’s got a decent reply. 

**Hey, hope you’re okay. That was really brave of you.**

**Stupid, but brave.**

**PS: If I was straight I would also totally bang Hayley Williams.**

He kinda smiles at the last bit. 

He’s not lying. Hayley Williams is hot. Like objectively. If he liked girls, he’d be obsessed with her. He already kind of is. 

Sabrina replies a little while later. 

**Thanks Connor.**

Nothing else but. It’s something. 

It’s definitely something. 

Before he logs off, Connor sticks Sabrina in his top friends. They aren’t really friends. But. 

Maybe they could be. 

They’ve actually got something in common. Which is more than he can say about pretty much everyone else at school. 

* * *

Zoe reads Sabrina’s MySpace bulletin in absolute horror. 

It just gets worse when she hears the phone ringing downstairs. She hears her mom answer. 

Her mom gets this  _ voice  _ when there is gossip to be had. Zoe knows what’s coming before it happens. Not even ten minutes later, her mom is knocking on her bedroom door. 

“We need to talk,” her mom says. 

Zoe snaps her laptop shut. 

“That Patel girl…”

“I know,” Zoe says. 

“I don’t want you around her anymore.”

Zoe nods. Immediately starts to cry. 

“I know sweetheart,” her mom says, sitting on her bed and pulling her into a hug. “You didn’t know.”

“I don’t know why she would do this,” Zoe cries. “Doesn’t she care what will happen?”

“I know baby,” her mom says. 

“It’s going to be awful at school. Everyone knows we’re friends,” Zoe cries. “What if they think that I’m…?”

“Then you make sure they don’t. You need to do damage control, Zoe. Cut her off now. Before it gets worse.”

Zoe nods. Her mom is right. 

She deletes Sabrina on MySpace. Removes their pictures together from cotillion and homecoming. 

She cries the whole time. Her mom rubs her back and tells her it will be okay. Zoe doesn’t believe her. It’s not okay. Sabrina ruined  _ everything.  _ She ruined everything, she told everyone, there’s no taking it back. And now that people know about Sabrina, they’re naturally going to wonder about her. She hates her for this. She hates her. 

Zoe is so angry. She cries and cries more. Her mom hushes her, hugging her tightly. “It’s okay baby. You didn’t know. How could you  _ know _ ? We let her sleepover. We let her sleep in your  _ bed.  _ It’s so cruel of her to do this to you.”

It is. It’s cruel. 

She didn’t even give Zoe a heads up. 

When her mom leaves her be, Zoe sees she has like twenty texts from Madison. She’s totally freaking out. Zoe doesn’t blame her. Their best friend just told the whole world that she’s a lesbian. Zoe’s freaking the fuck out. 

She calls Madison, thinking she needs to just get this over with. 

“Oh my god, Murph, we’ve had  _ sleepovers  _ with her,” Madison says. “You  _ kissed  _ her!”

“It was just to rile up the guys,” Zoe insists angrily. “It was a joke. I can’t believe she’d do this to us.”

“Well obviously she’s not welcome to come tonight anymore,” Madison says. “Can’t have a dyke at my party. We should have known when she started hanging out with Alana Beck again after cotillion. And, ew! She let your brother escort her! Why didn’t we realize?”

“I don’t know how we missed it,” Zoe says hollowly. She’s so pissed. “I can’t fucking believe her.”

“Come to my beach house early tonight. We’ll get fucked up and strategize. This is  _ bad  _ Murph. Everyone knows we’re friends with a lesbian. Oh my god like she’s seen me get changed. Do you think she’s been perving on us?”

“God that would be so fucking embarrassing,” Zoe says. She tries to fake it well. Madison makes affirmative noises and Zoe thinks she’s managing. “How fucking disgusting.”

“God can you imagine if she’s like. Lezzing out with Alana? That would be too embarrassing.”

“God, I know.”

Zoe agrees to come over early. She promises Madison that they won’t let this wreck their chances of getting asked to the prom. “Guys will still ask us.”

“I can’t believe she’s a  _ lesbian.  _ It’s so  _ gross  _ Murph. Like imagining eating another girl out. Gross. Ew. So fucking nasty.”

Zoe swallows uncomfortably. “Yeah. I know, right?” 

After they hang up, Zoe goes downstairs to the kitchen. She’s going to a party tonight and she needs to make sure to eat something this time if she wants to avoid getting sick to her stomach. 

When she steps into the kitchen, Connor is there. He’s dumping a bunch of frozen blueberries and strawberries into the blender. There’s a thing of yogurt on the counter.

“What are you doing?” Zoe says stupidly. 

“Witchcraft,” He says sarcastically, hitting the button on the blender. It’s loud and jarring and Zoe finds herself just staring at Connor. 

She’s been waiting for him to say something to her. Ever since he walked in on Zoe with Sabrina. She’s been waiting for him to just say something. Just fucking say something. 

But he doesn’t say a word. He just makes a fucking smoothie. 

Zoe grabs some leftovers from the fridge and heats them up. Connor pours his smoothie into a glass and then coughs awkwardly. 

“I made too much. Do you want the rest of this?” 

Zoe considers. 

Nods. 

He pulls another glass out of the cabinet and pours the rest of the smoothie into it for her. 

And that’s it. 

* * *

Sabrina gets a call from Alana maybe half an hour after the bulletin is posted. 

Part of her is relieved, she’s not going to lie. 

“So that was a bold move,” Alana says immediately. “I’m kind of impressed.”

Sabrina feels something inside her relax. “We can’t all come out in the middle of a class debate like you did.” 

“It was a perfectly logical moment to come out,” Alana says, a hint of a smile in her voice. 

“During a debate about airport security after 9/11? Totally logical.”

Alana laughs. “Seriously, though,” she says after a moment. “Are you okay? Some of the comments…”

“I’m okay,” Sabrina assures her. “Some people are assholes, yeah, but I’ve been getting nice messages as well. Not everyone is completely terrible.”

Alana says something next, but she doesn’t hear it, because all of a sudden her phone’s being taken off her and her mother is screaming. 

“Do you have any idea what you’ve just done, Sabrina?” 

Sabrina feels her heart start to race, so hard that it almost hurts. “Mom-”

Her mom basically drags her off her bed, out of her room and downstairs to the dining room, where her dad is sitting at the table reading a newspaper. He puts it down when he sees them and frowns. “What’s going on?”

“She’s been posting lies on the internet for attention,” her mom spits out. “She’s making up stories and telling people she’s gay. I’ve already had a phone call from Heather Whittington, there’s bound to be more.” 

As if on cue, the home phone rings. 

She glares at Sabrina’s dad. “Don’t answer that.”

Sabrina’s dad looks at Sabrina, clearly alarmed. Sabrina’s got no idea what he’s going to say. How he’s going to react. 

Something inside her goes cold. 

She knew her mom would freak. She was completely aware that her mom would freak, she knew it was part of the deal here. But she didn’t think about her dad at all. 

Honestly, she doesn’t think about her dad much at all. He’s, like, never home. Never around. He’s some kind of doctor, she’s not even sure exactly what, but he’s basically always at work or accompanying her mom to one of her many society functions. 

Most of the time it’s like Sabrina’s not even there. 

Her dad sounds calm when he speaks. “What did you post, Sabrina?” 

“She told everyone she was gay,” her mom says.

Her dad ignores that. Looks at Sabrina, eyebrows raised. 

“I’m gay,” Sabrina announces. “And I’m not interested in lying about it anymore.”

“Why would you do this to me?” Sabrina’s mom demands. “Why would you be so cruel? Do you enjoy humiliating me?”

“This isn’t about you-”

“Of course it is,” her mom snaps. “Of course it is, you just want to ruin everything for me. It’s all you do. I don’t know what I did to deserve an ungrateful bitch like you-”

“That’s enough, Lisa.” 

Sabrina’s dad stands up. Draws himself to his full height. It’s not a lot, because he’s not exactly a tall man, but he does it when he’s trying to assert authority. It never really works. It’s completely obvious that Sabrina’s mom calls the shots around here. 

But it helps that he’s trying. 

Sabrina’s mom looks right at her dad. “You know how hard I’ve worked to get people to accept us around here,” she says, a little desperately. “And she’s just ruined everything. Just like that.” She looks back at Sabrina. “Say you were hacked. Tell people it was a cruel joke, that someone wanted to spread rumors-”

“No,” Sabrina tells her. “No, I’m not doing that.”

Her mom is shaking with anger now. Vibrating with it. “You’re not gay. You’re confused. You’re young, you…” She stops in her tracks. “Cynthia Murphy’s boy. At cotillion. Everyone knows he’s gay. He did this.”

“That’s ridiculous,” says Sabrina’s dad. “It’s not a disease, Lisa-”

“There is something wrong with her,” Sabrina’s mom spits out. “What are you going to do about it, Aaron?”

Sabrina’s dad’s eyes go wide, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. 

When he replies, Sabrina’s not sure if he’s hearing it right. 

“If she’s gay, then there’s nothing I  _ can  _ do about it.” 

Sabrina’s mom looks like she could punch someone. “You’re a doctor. What use are you if you can’t fix this?”

“Fix what?” he asks immediately. “I might not understand it but the research clearly states that it’s not-”

“I don’t want to hear about the fucking research, I want my daughter to not be gay!” Sabrina’s mom looks like she’s about to start throwing shit around the room. “We need to do something. Send her somewhere-”

“Absolutely not,” Sabrina’s dad says firmly. He looks… disgusted. “If you’re suggesting what I think you are, then absolutely not, I am not letting that happen.”

Sabrina’s mom lets out this harsh laugh. “How is this different to last summer? You let me fix that.” She shoots Sabrina a dirty look. “Even though it didn’t last and she put the weight right back on.”

“Girls only fat camp, Mom,” Sabrina can’t help but point out. “Didn’t think that one through.”

For a moment, Sabrina is sure that her mom is going to hit her. 

Just, like, slap her across the face. 

Like Mrs. Murphy did to Connor at Zoe’s party. 

Except Mrs. Murphy was obviously drunk, and Sabrina’s mom is stone-cold sober. 

Sabrina’s dad goes to stand in front of her. 

Like she’s expecting it, too. 

Sabrina’s mom’s face drains of color. 

And she leaves the room. Turns on her heel and just… goes. 

Sabrina’s dad seems to shrink before her eyes. He turns to face her, something tight in his features. He tries to smile, but it doesn’t seem to work. 

“Thank you,” Sabrina says. Her voice is small and soft to her own ears. She can’t imagine how it must sound to her dad. 

The smile on her dad’s face gets a little more real. He clears his throat. “This isn’t… something I understand, Sabrina.” 

It stings a little, but it’s not a surprise. 

He barely knows her. Of course he doesn’t understand. 

“And I know that talking science isn’t what you need right now,” he continues, a little weakly. “But it’s what I have. It’s what I know.” He swallows hard. “And I know what the studies say about homosexuality. It’s not an illness or a disorder or anything like that.”

Sabrina blinks a few times. 

She doesn’t know why she’s surprised. This is a completely logical response for her dad.

“You don’t need fixing, Sabrina,” her dad continues. There’s something calm and professional in his tone, like he’s talking to one of his patients. “There is nothing wrong with you. No matter what your mom says.”

Sabrina feels her eyes fill with tears so quickly it’s almost a shock. Like he’s just flicked a switch and turned on the waterworks without her even knowing. 

She really fucking needed to hear that. 

She didn’t know how much she needed to hear that until he said it. 

Her dad doesn’t hug her. Not really. He awkwardly pats her shoulder for a while, then offers to take her out for ice cream. 

It’s weird and stilted and awkward, but it’s the best interaction she’s had with her dad since she was tiny. 

It’s not perfect, but it helps. 

* * *

No amount of damage control is going to fix this, Zoe thinks to herself for the millionth time on Saturday night. She’s with Madison at a party at her and Tommy’s beach house. Madison will not shut up about Sabrina. 

“I mean. You might have turned her, Murph. The two of you made out those times.”

“For  _ guys, _ ” Zoe insists. “I thought we were doing it to get a rise out of the guys. I didn’t know she was gonna turn out to be a huge lez.” 

Madison can’t hide how delighted she is by the fact that everyone is making fun of Zoe now. “You know she probably likes you,” she goes on. “She’s probably gonna like. Join the softball team and ask you to prom.”

“Fuck off,” Zoe says. She abandons her spot talking to Madison, deciding that she absolutely needs to go and get fucked up beyond belief. 

This is a fucking nightmare. She makes herself a super strong drink and then another. She’s feeling pretty good when Jared Kleinman approaches her. 

“So is being gay something that runs in your family?” He asks, smirking. 

“I’m not gay,” Zoe says harshly. 

“Wanna bet? Because you managed to turn Sabrina Patel into a dyke. You should think about a career in the WNBA. You’re tall enough.”

“Fuck you,” Zoe says. 

Jared snorts. “Yeah maybe if you weren’t a dyke, I would.”

Zoe gets an idea. 

She knows that… Madison kind of likes Jared. And Madison has been a real cunt lately. 

So fuck Madison. 

“You got anything for me?” Zoe asks Jared. 

“Let’s talk in private,” he replies. Since the party where Melissa ODed he’s been more careful at parties. They go off and find an unoccupied bedroom. Jared offers her some pills but the price is way higher than normal. 

“What the fuck Jared? This is twice what I gave you earlier this week.”

“Yeah well I give discounts to my friends,” Jared says. “And I’m not friends with dykes.”

“Neither am I,” Zoe says. 

“You and Patel were pretty cozy for a while there. Maybe you were having a cute little lesbian affair.”

“I’m not a dyke,” Zoe tells him. 

“Oh yeah? Prove it.”

“Fine,” Zoe spits. She grabs the baggie of pills she still hasn’t paid for entirely. Takes an oxy out and swallows it with her vodka. 

Then she kisses Jared on the mouth. 

He freezes at first. “Are you fucking serious?” 

“Yep,” Zoe says. She pulls away. Yanks off her top. Jared stares at her in her bra, his eyes huge. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes. He kisses her again, his hands on her boobs and he’s kind of grabby. His hands are almost painful. 

But Jared has a big mouth. 

If she sleeps with him…

He will tell everyone. 

And she’d rather be known as a slut than a dyke so. This is gonna have to work. 

She pulls off his shirt. His stomach and chest are softer than she expected them to be. Everyone else around here has like abs. Guess that explains why he never goes swimming at parties. She knew the rumor that he has a third nipple wasn’t true. He’s just a little chubby.

She doesn’t care. It. Like. Could be cute. She starts kissing his neck. Unbuckling his belt. Reaching into his pants and touching him. He’s already hard. 

Jared seems to get with the program. He manages to get her out of her bra with some trial and error. He keeps saying “holy shit” every few seconds. Like he’s won something by getting to touch her. 

She takes off her pants and then they fall onto the bed. 

“Do you have a condom?” Zoe asks him. 

“Yeah, hang on…” he pulls out his wallet and flashes her a Magnum. 

Which. Okay. She’s seen dicks before. She doesn’t think his is  _ that  _ big. 

Whatever. She doesn’t have a  _ lot _ to compare it to. 

Jared fingers her for a bit. He’s kind of bad at it. His hands are cold and clammy on her body. It doesn’t really feel great. She’s not really getting turned on. 

And then he’s on top of her and Zoe is finally starting to feel the pill she took kick in. It’s good because then she doesn’t feel as nervous about the fact that she’s naked and he’s naked and he’s struggling to get the condom on his dick. She slurs that she’s never actually done this before. 

“Yeah. Sure Murph.  _ You’re  _ a virgin.” Jared laughs. She goes to protest that actually she  _ is  _ but then he shifts his hips. 

Pushes inside her. 

It’s weird at first. 

Then it hurts. 

It hurts. 

That’s the only thing Zoe registers at first. Pain. It’s painful. 

It never hurt with Sabrina. Never. 

“Ow, h-hang on,” she says, trying to adjust. There is a dick inside her and it feels huge and invasive and it does  _ not _ feel good. Jared is heavy. She can’t really move. 

“Fuck you’re tight,” he mutters, thrusting again and it hurts it hurts a lot. 

“I think I wanna stop,” Zoe says, feeling panic start to well inside her. This isn’t what she wants. It hurts. It really hurts. She’s freaking out. 

“Too big for you huh?” Jared says, all cocky. He does pull out then. Zoe feels like she can breathe again. “Oh. Shit. Murph, you’re bleeding.” His eyebrows go up. “You’re really a virgin?”

Zoe looks down and sees blood. She feels like she might pass out. “L-look, can I just give you a handjob or something?”

Jared laughs. He actually laughs. “I’ve never fucked a virgin before,” he says. He runs his fingers over her, like he’s transfixed by the blood. He rubs the blood between his fingers and then wipes it on her leg. “Holy shit.”

And then he puts it back in. 

“Jared come on-” Zoe says with a wince. It really hurts. She wants to stop. 

“I know babe but it’ll feel good soon,” he says like that settles it and he keeps going. 

Zoe just lies there. She wants him to stop but she doesn’t know how to tell him. She feels disconnected and floaty. She’s really high. Really high. How much was that pill she took? She didn’t even look. Usually she checks. Doesn’t Mess around with anything bigger than a 30. 

“Come on Murph you gotta move,” he says. There’s sweat gathering at his temples. He’s kissing her. “Can’t make me do all the work.”

Zoe nods. 

Okay. Okay. 

She needs to stop being such a  _ girl  _ about this. She knew the first time would hurt. She knew. It’s not that bad. 

She moves as she’s told. Jared groans. He grabs her boob harder. It hurts. It all hurts. It hurts worse. 

“I really… I don’t.” Her eyes are blurry with tears. It really fucking hurts. She wants to stop she wants to stop. None of this feels real it’s all happening so fast when she did get here? “You’re almost finished right?”

“Nope,” he pants. “I got  _ stamina  _ babe _. _ ”

Zoe doesn’t know what to do. She just keeps moving when he does. It hurts a lot, but it also sort of feels good underneath it and is this what sex is supposed to feel like? She’s not sure this is real. It’s nothing like when Sabrina touches her. 

Zoe starts to rub her fingers against herself to try and get  _ something  _ out of this but her eyes keep watering and Jared is grunting and hurting her he’s hurting her and hurting her and hurting her and then he finally stops moving, shoving his hips hard against hers one last time and holding still. 

“Shit,” he mutters after he pulls out. “Condom slipped off.” He reaches his fingers inside her body, like it’s a backpack or something, and pokes around before pulling it out. It’s bloody and drips something white onto her stomach. 

“Did you come inside me?” Zoe demands. Her heart is racing. She’s going to be sick. 

“Yeah, shit. Don’t worry,” he says, all business. “I’ll give you your money back. You can get the morning-after pill.” He grabs his wallet and gives her back what she paid him. 

Zoe is going to be sick. 

She’s sore. She’s so fucking sore. She’s crying. She’s bleeding. 

“Come on Murph, it wasn’t that bad.”

“I…. I…” she can’t catch her breath. “I told you to stop,” she blubbers stupidly. “It hurt.”

“Come on everyone’s first time is kinda weird.” He rubs her back awkwardly like he’s trying to console her. “It’s okay. Least we know you’re not a dyke, eh?”

“Fuck you,” she spits. 

“You’re ready to go again already?” He says his eyebrows up. His dick like. Twitches. Zoe almost screams. 

“Oh my god get away from me you creep,” Zoe says. She stands up. 

Something sickening and liquid rolls down her leg. Fuck fuck this is bad this is not what she wanted. 

She feels sick. She starts to put her clothes on shakily. 

She feels sick and dizzy and wrong. 

Jared hands her her bra. “Second time’s better,” he says reasonably. 

“No. Absolutely not,” she says. “I’m not sleeping with you again. You look like the fucking Pillsbury Doughboy.”

Jared’s eyes narrow. “You can’t talk to me like that.”

“I told you to stop,” she whispers. 

“You’re acting like I forced you,” Jared protests. He seems pissed off. “It was  _ your _ idea. Come on, I’ll go down on you, make it up to you-”

“Fuck you. You have fucking. Man boobs. Fuck.” She yanks her pants up. “You’re ugly and pathetic and I’m never touching you again.”

“What the fuck Zoe?”

“And the reason the condom fell off is because you have a tiny dick,” she spits. 

Leaves the room. 

Everyone is  _ looking _ at her. 

People were standing outside the door. Waiting outside. They’re cheering and yelling and clapping. “Way to go, Murph!” Brian Harris yells. “Pop that cherry!”

How do they know how did they know? 

Madison throws a drink in her face. 

“What the fuck?”

“Everyone heard you, you fucking whore!” Madison screams. “I can’t believe you’d fuck the guy I like at  _ my  _ party!”

“I…. I…Madison I… I didn’t want-”

“Get the fuck out,” Madison says viciously. 

Zoe doesn’t need telling twice. 

She gets in her car. 

Pulls over halfway home to puke. 

She can’t stop crying. 

She told him to stop. She told Jared to stop and he didn’t. 

He didn’t. 

Zoe walks carefully inside. She feels eyes on her. Watching. But she can’t bring herself to look. 

She goes inside and into the bathroom where she turns the water to scalding and scrubs her skin until it’s pink and raw. 

Scrubs herself  _ there.  _ She wants to get the smell of Jared off of her. Wants to scrub away the evidence. 

When she gets out of the bathroom, Connor is standing by her door. 

She pushes past him. He says her name. She ignores him. 

The thing is, as much as she hates her brother, she knows Connor loves her. Even though he’s been a prick to her in the past, she knows he cares. If she told him what happened, he’d go to that party right now and kill him. Like genuinely he would kill Jared with his bare hands. 

And Zoe can’t make things worse for herself. She can’t. 

She waits until she’s sure Connor’s gone to sleep. Sneaks out of the house and drives thirty minutes away to a 24-hour pharmacy. She uses her fake ID to buy Plan B over the counter and cries in the parking lot as she takes it. 

Because… she might be fucking gay. 

Because Sabrina hates her. Because Jared didn’t listen. 

And she might be gay. 

* * *

Connor seems really sad on the drive to school. A little nervous, but mostly… sad. Evan hates it when he’s sad, so he kind of ends up ranting about his weekend a little. 

It had been a really great weekend, actually. Heidi had taken both days off completely. They’d stayed at the beach house and spent a lot of time talking and playing board games and watching movies and hanging out by the water. 

They’d also ended up going to the mall on Sunday because Evan’s bigger than he was when he first got to Newport. Broader in the shoulders, a little taller. He’s not a huge fan of shopping, but it was actually okay. 

He’d picked out clothes he liked this time. He still has a lot of the ones they bought when they went shopping when he first arrived in town, but now he’s got a lot more basics. 

Plain grey t-shirts, hoodies. Stuff that’s not, like, brand name and labeled. 

They’d even gone to Hot Topic and Evan had used some of the money he had saved to grab a couple of t-shirts of bands Connor introduced him to. He’s never going to be as cool as Connor, never going to look as cool as Connor does, but Connor’s talking about them going to some concerts over the summer so Evan should probably have something to wear rather than borrowing Connor’s shirt again. 

The shirt had been way too tight back in December. He’d probably stretch one of Connor’s shirts out even more now. 

“I know it’s, like, super lame to spend the whole weekend with an adult,” Evan says to Connor as they’re pulling into the school parking lot. “But I don’t always see Heidi a lot? So it was… I really liked it.”

Connor smiles at him, and it's small but it’s genuine. “I think it’s cool that you and Heidi get along so well,” he says, and he sounds like he means it. 

When they get into the school building, there’s a weird vibe. Everyone’s kind of buzzing about something. 

Evan doesn’t know if he really cares to find out what. It’s probably bullshit. 

When they get to the lockers, Connor stops in his tracks. Swears under his breath and goes into his bag to grab Kleenex and hand sanitizer. 

Evan’s heart plummets. Not again. 

Fucking hell, can’t people get a life? 

It takes him a moment to realize that it’s not Connor’s locker that’s been hit. It’s one that he doesn’t recognize. 

_ ‘DYKE’ _

Connor goes over immediately and cleans it off quickly, a deep frown on his face, not seeming to care that people are watching. 

“Guess the fags really do stick together, huh?” yells a guy Evan doesn’t know but immediately decides he hates from across the hall. “Didn’t you get the memo? She’s not gonna suck your dick, bro.”

“No one in this fucking school has any sense of logic,” Connor mutters darkly, heading to the trash can to get rid of the Kleenex. 

Evan is beyond confused. 

“What’s going on?” he asks Connor. “Whose locker was that?”

Connor opens his mouth like he’s going to answer, but is interrupted by a loud conversation between a bunch of senior guys nearby.

“Dude, is your dick cursed? Is that what's happening here?”

Evan looks over to see the guy Sabrina Patel went to the Valentine’s Gala with standing there, his face red, looking incredibly uncomfortable. “Look, she said it wasn’t about me-”

“That’s fucking hysterical,” the other guy says. “You finally get the balls to ask out Sabrina Patel after  _ months  _ of mooning after her and it takes you less than three weeks to turn her gay. That’s almost impressive.”

What the fuck. 

What the fuck?

He turns to Connor. “Sabrina?” 

Connor looks almost as uncomfortable as Sabrina’s ex. “She posted a MySpace bulletin,” he says quietly. “On Saturday.” 

“Is she okay?” Evan asks immediately. 

Something in Connor’s expression softens a little. Goes kind of gentle and kind. 

“I don’t know,” he says honestly. “I messaged her, and she messaged me back, but we’re not exactly friends.”

Evan’s not going to lie. He’s pretty fucking thrown right now. 

“I mean, I’m not really friends with her either, but…” Evan frowns. “We’ve been here for five fucking minutes and people are already being total assholes. And she’s popular, people like her, she…”

Connor looks so sad. 

Just, like, genuinely bummed about the way people are acting. 

Evan feels cold. 

“Was it like this when you came out?” 

Connor blinks. Shrugs. Opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, then closes it. Finally opens it again. 

“I never officially came out,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “People just… figured it out. And then cotillion so...” He shrugs. Tucks his hair behind his ear distractedly. Offers this weak smile. “At least Sabrina gets a chance to control the narrative here. At least it was her choice.”

If they weren’t in the middle of the hallway right now, Evan would hug him. 

Hold his hand. 

Try to offer what little comfort he can. 

But he won’t, because this is fucking high school and the whole school is freaking out because someone just came out. It would just be adding fuel to the fire. 

Fucking hell. 

People are talking about it all day. All fucking day. 

When Evan sits down next to Alana in bio, Sabrina’s not there yet. Alana’s face is kind of pale and she’s frowning, but she tries to smile when she sees Evan. 

She looks nervous as fuck. 

“Is Sabrina okay?” Evan asks immediately. 

The tension leaves Alana’s shoulders. “I don’t know,” she says. “I called her over the weekend but we didn’t talk for long.” She lets out this nervous laugh. “And before you ask - no, we’re not dating.”

Evan blinks. “Why would you be dating?”

Alana stares at him. Then laughs for real. “Evan.  _ I’m _ a lesbian.”

What. 

What?

“Really?”

“Pretty sure,” Alana says, smiling this genuine smile now. “I came out in middle school. It’s not a secret.” She tilts her head a little. “Guess you really don’t pay attention to gossip, huh?”

Evan feels a little like he’s walked into some kind of alternate universe. “I just didn’t realize so many of my friends are gay. Not that I have many friends, but. Wow.”

Alana blinks a few times. For a quick, strange second, Evan thinks she might be tearing up. “We’re friends?”

Evan feels like he’s said the wrong thing. “I mean, we’re… we don’t know each other that well, I guess we’re… acquaintances, sorry.”

Alana looks a little guilty. Frowns a little bit. “We’re close acquaintances,” she says, a little defensively. “I would count you among my closest acquaintances.”

That’s… sweet. 

Weird, but sweet.

How did he miss that Alana’s gay?

Alana’s gay, Connor’s gay, Sabrina’s gay… 

Basically, the three people that Evan can kind of stand in this school are all gay. That’s fucking hilarious when you think about it. 

Evan’s trying to figure out what to say next when Sabrina walks in, her head held high. She goes to sit next to her lab partner, who immediately puts her hand up and calls out to the teacher. 

“Ms. Parker,” this girl Evan doesn’t know calls out, “I need a new lab partner.”

Ms. Parker just looks at her, clearly bewildered. “Becky, it’s February. You’re not changing lab partners now.”

Becky doesn’t let up. “I don’t feel comfortable having a lesbian as a lab partner. What if she tries to feel me up in class? Or tries to turn me gay?”

Ms. Parker’s eyes go wide. She looks at Becky, then at Sabrina, who’s looking right back at her, this challenging expression on her face. 

“I c-can be Sabrina’s lab p-partner,” Evan calls out suddenly. He has no idea what the fuck he did that for but he felt like he had to do something. 

“Ew,” says Becky immediately. “Like I want a fag for a lab partner, that’s just as bad. And I, what, get stuck with Alana? She’s a dyke, too.”

“That is not acceptable language in my classroom,” says Ms. Parker immediately. She looks like she has no idea how to handle this. Evan feels a little sorry for her. 

It’s quiet for a moment. 

Becky crosses her arms. “My dad’s a lawyer. If Sabrina turns me gay, he’ll sue the school and get you fired.”

“This is a biology class,” Alana calls out. “Shouldn’t we know by now that homosexuality isn’t contagious?”

Becky lets out this huff. “You can’t prove that.”

Sabrina rolls her eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Enough!” Ms. Parker says firmly. “Everyone is keeping their lab partners for today. We need to get on with the lesson. If you really have a problem, come talk to me after class.”

Becky does, in fact, stay to talk to Ms. Parker after class, complaining very loudly the whole time. Sabrina’s face is burning but she keeps her head held high. There’s this… confidence to her that wasn’t there before. 

Evan’s kind of here for it. 

* * *

School is a nightmare. 

But Sabrina knew it would be. 

She’s doing her best to come in swinging. Spent a long time in the morning making sure she looked good. She’s going to keep her head held high, to stare the bastards down, to act like she’s not ashamed. 

Because she’s not. 

And anyone who acts like she should be can go fuck themselves. 

She doesn’t get rid of the graffiti on her locker when she sees it before school, but someone clearly does, because it’s gone the next time she goes past her locker. 

There is, however, the distinct smell of fish. 

She opens her locker to see someone’s put an open can of tuna inside her locker with a note attached about how she likes the smell. 

Fucking hell, people are assholes. 

She takes the can of tuna and throws it in the trash nearby, hoping a little that it keeps stinking up the place because fuck everyone.

Biology class is fucking humiliating. She knew Becky was an idiot from working with her all year, but didn’t realize she was such a bitch. 

She hadn’t expected Evan to stand up for her like that. 

Honestly, she figured that Evan must have noticed she didn’t care for him much. It’s not like she’s been subtle about it. 

Then again, he’s friends with Connor. Friendly with Alana. 

He’s clearly not a massive homophobe. 

Given that she’s just tanked her entire social life, she should probably take what she can get. 

She has trig right before lunch and slides into a seat next to Connor, for the tiniest bit of moral support. Aimee Harding is in this class, as is Louise Mckinnon, another one of the small group of out lesbians at the school. They smile at her a little tentatively but don’t try to approach her or whatever, which she thinks is fair enough. 

It’s not like she’s ever had anything to do with them. 

Madison and Zoe have definitely made fun of them before, and Sabrina didn’t stop them, so they’re not likely to like, adopt her into the lesbian cult or whatever. 

That, and she knows for a fact that the small group of lesbians at school kind of avoid Alana. Rumor has it that they think she’s too intense. 

Which is absolutely fair, but honestly it’s part of Alana’s charm. 

Connor looks right at her after class ends. Looks like he’s going to say something, but doesn’t. Just smiles at her a little awkwardly. 

And then it’s lunch. 

And she has no idea what to do. 

While Madison’s been blowing up her phone and her MySpace messages with abuse, it’s been radio silence from Zoe. She’s blocked her on MySpace.

And they all have the same lunch period. 

But there’s nothing she can do about that now, and she’s not fucking backing down. She’ll go to the cafeteria, she’ll get some food, she’ll find somewhere to sit and she’ll eat her damn meal with her head held high because fuck it. 

Fuck everyone. 

It all goes south the minute she steps foot into the cafeteria and finds herself face to face with Madison and Zoe, completely unexpectedly. 

She wasn’t prepared. 

She freezes. 

“I can’t believe you’d even show your face around here,” Madison says loudly, in a voice that rings across the room so everyone can hear. “You’re disgusting, you know that? I can’t believe we didn’t see through you from day one. You’re a pathetic perv and you need to stay away from us.”

“Trust me,” Sabrina says, equally loudly. “I didn’t figure out I was gay because of you, Madison. I wouldn’t touch  _ you  _ with a ten-foot pole. Who knows what kind of diseases you’ve picked up from all the dick you’ve been sucking.”

There’s a gasp from the crowd. 

Someone laughs. 

Madison’s cheeks go pink. “Murph here is the one who made out with you, not me,” she seems determined to remind the crowd. “It’s so pathetic watching you panting over her. We all should have seen it this whole fucking time.” 

Zoe doesn’t say anything. Just glares at Sabrina, something terrified in her eyes. 

Madison looks at Zoe. Something in her expression shifts. 

There’s this strange tension in the air, and Sabrina realizes that this is the moment of truth. 

That Zoe’s got a fucking choice to make here.

For a moment, Sabrina thinks Zoe might choose her. 

A brief, wonderful, shining moment. 

But then Zoe’s crossing her arms and looking at her like a piece of dog shit she found on the bottom of her shoe. 

“Eww,” she says loudly. “I can’t believe I ever let you anywhere near me, you fucking  _ dyke. _ ”

Sabrina’s not going to cry. 

She’s not going to fucking cry. 

She knows she’s dangerously close to tears and everything in her wants to just… lose it. Start bawling. 

But she doesn’t. 

She just walks right past them and gets into the lunch line. 

People make comments under their breath and to her face the whole time, and it’s fucking humiliating, but she’s not going to let them win. 

She refuses.

When she turns around after she gets her meal, she’s surprised to see Alana at her elbow. She offers her a smile. 

“Come on,” she says, taking her arm. “Come sit with us.”

Sabrina doesn’t know what else to do so she does what she’s told and walks with Alana. It’s a longer walk than usual. A bit more out of the way. 

It’s not until she sits down that she realizes who she’s sitting with. 

Evan and Connor. 

Evan smiles at her, a little sadly, and Connor’s pale and looks almost a little heartbroken, but he’s clearly trying to smile. 

“Welcome to our lunch table,” Connor says after a moment. “Rebels and rejects only.”

Sabrina isn’t sure which one she is anymore. 

* * *

Monday sucks. 

It just… sucks. 

Zoe feels like her skin is crawling. 

Jared comes up to talk to her before the school day starts and Zoe genuinely thinks she might throw up on his shoes. 

“Look,” He says, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Saturday was weird…”

Zoe stares at him. 

“Like, are you okay?” Jared says. “You… you got the morning after pill though right? I don’t need any mini-Kleinmans running around.” 

“I took care of it,” Zoe says, staring at her shoes. 

“Oh. Good. That’s good.” Jared laughs. “So uh. Do you maybe… want to hang out after school or something?” 

Zoe cannot believe his nerve. She cannot believe him. “You’re asking me out.”

Jared’s cheeks go a little pink. “Yeah. I mean.” He leans in, smirking, “I took your virginity, Murph.” 

“Fuck off,” Zoe mumbles, not looking at him. “I’m not hanging out with you. I’m not interested in you or-or your fucking tiny dick.” 

Jared looks offended. 

Like actually hurt. 

Zoe doesn’t give a shit. She storms off. 

Madison sticks to her like glue all day, which Zoe appreciates. She seems to have forgiven Zoe for sleeping with Jared. In the light of day, apparently, she realizes that publicly declaring her interest in Jared is sort of like being publicly obsessed with your gardener: Embarrassing. Trashy. 

So Madison is, apparently, over it. 

Instead she focuses all of her attention on Sabrina’s coming out. She basically wants to reexamine their entire friendship with her for “signs” of her being gay. 

Zoe feels fucking sick about it. 

This is… wrong. 

She shouldn’t be letting Madison talk about Sabrina this way. Sabrina is a million times more genuine than Madison. She’s kind. She’s sweet and funny. 

Madison’s just a bitch who never even asked Zoe why she was crying after she slept with Jared. 

Zoe is exhausted by the time lunch rolls around. She feels like she might genuinely need a bump of coke to get through the rest of the day. She’s like a zombie or something. Everything is taking a lot of effort. 

She and Madison go through the cafeteria line. Madison won’t stop fucking talking and it’s giving Zoe a migraine. Zoe skips buying any actual food, instead opting for a Diet Coke and a granola bar. 

She’s taken by surprise when they come out of the line to find themselves face to face with Sabrina. 

Fuck. 

She looks great today. You’d think she had an entire “I just came out so fuck you” outfit ready to go in her closet. 

Maybe she did. 

She looks fantastic. The shirt she’s wearing makes her boobs look awesome and her jeans make her ass look nice too. Her hair is perfect. Her makeup is perfect. She’s utterly gorgeous. 

Zoe feels sick. She feels so fucking sick. 

Why did she have to come out and ruin everything? 

Madison seems far too excited for the opportunity to confront Sabrina. Her eyes get wide and her voice gets loud and commanding. “I can’t believe you’d even show your face around here.” 

Everyone turns to look at them. Everyone. 

Zoe wants to sink into the ground. She clutches her Diet Coke hard in her hand. She feels like she could puke. 

Madison’s not done berating Sabrina, it seems. She keeps going, getting louder, meaner. “You’re disgusting, you know that? I can’t believe we didn’t see through you from day one. You’re a pathetic perv and you need to stay away from us.”

Sabrina doesn’t even look phased. She’s so cool in the face of all of this. Zoe would be a puddle. She would be a disaster. She couldn’t handle this pressure, but Sabrina acts like this is nothing worse than a class presentation. 

“Trust me,” Sabrina says, projecting her voice like she’s the leading lady in a play or something. It’s powerful. Strong. It carries across the whole cafeteria. Anyone who wasn’t looking before sure as fuck is now. “I didn’t figure out I was gay because of you, Madison. I wouldn’t touch  _ you  _ with a ten-foot pole. Who knows what kind of diseases you’ve picked up from all the dick you’ve been sucking.”

There’s a gasp from the crowd. 

Which is overdramatic as fuck, seriously. 

Someone else laughs. 

Zoe is going to die of embarrassment. She’s just going to die. 

Especially when Madison’s face blushes and she says, “Murph here is the one who made out with you, not me.” 

Zoe thinks her heart actually stops. 

Everyone is looking at her now. She might as well be naked in the middle of the fucking cafeteria. Everyone is fucking staring. Zoe feels like she could cry or throw up or scream or something. 

From the crowd, she spots her brother standing up from his table with Evan. He doesn’t approach. Doesn’t come closer. He’s just watching. 

If he says something Zoe will actually lose her fucking mind. She’ll need to be put in an asylum or something because she will actually lose her fucking mind. 

Madison is on a roll, it seems. She keeps taunting Sabrina, “It’s so pathetic watching you panting over her. We all should have seen it this whole fucking time.” 

Zoe doesn’t say anything.

Her jaw won’t move. 

All she can do is look at Sabrina. 

Beg her not to say anything without words. 

_ Please don’t tell. Please don’t tell. Please don’t tell.  _

Madison looks at Zoe, her eyebrows up. 

She’s waiting for Zoe to jump in. To taunt Sabrina too. To join into the fun of this. 

Zoe swallows. 

She can’t do it. 

Even if she ruined everything… Sabrina is Sabrina. 

She can’t… 

Sabrina’s eyebrows pinch ever so slightly. 

She makes that face sometimes. When she’s thinking hard, or when something she really likes happens. It’s the strangest little quirk. Zoe has spent hours obsessing over it. How to make her eyebrows pinch like that. 

She’s got a choice to make here. 

She can tell Madison to get over herself and go sit with Sabrina at lunch. Tell Madison the truth. That Zoe was panting over Sabrina just as much, if not more, than Sabrina was panting over her. 

She could do it. 

For a second she thinks maybe she  _ should.  _

But then… 

Everyone is staring. Everyone is looking. Watching. Waiting for Zoe to declare her allegiance in this girl fight. 

And Zoe’s not brave. She can’t move her jaw. 

She’s paralyzed. 

She’s absolutely paralyzed. 

And then as quickly as the paralysis kicked in, it ends, and Zoe knows what she’s got to do. What she’s expected to do. She knows the part she plays, so she plays it as best as she can, “Eww,” Zoe sneers. “I can’t believe I ever let you anywhere near me, you fucking  _ dyke _ .”

Sabrina’s face shifts into something so fucking sad and heartbreaking. 

Zoe fucked up. 

She chose wrong. 

But then Sabrina is heading off toward the lunch line and Madison loops her arm through Zoe’s and all but drags her to their normal table. Zoe feels like she might cry. She can’t really keep it together. She mutters to Madison that actually she has a headache and she’s gonna go to the nurse. 

“But you didn’t tell me yet about how the sex was!” Madison calls out. 

And that does it. 

Zoe ends up throwing up in a trash bin at the edge of the cafeteria. 

“Eww,” Madison says, walking off. 

Zoe looks up from the trash can. 

Connor is watching her from across the cafeteria. Sabrina and Alana Beck are sitting with him at his table with Evan. 

Zoe can’t meet his eye. She shoves a stick of gum into her mouth and takes off for the parking lot. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "Bang the Doldrums" by Fall Out Boy.


	41. They Say Quitters Never Win

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's an unauthorized addition to the Harbor school website.

All things considered, it happens pretty quickly. 

Instead of it being just Evan and Connor at lunch, it turns into Evan, Connor, Alana, and Sabrina. 

Evan’s a little concerned at first because he knows that Connor doesn’t like eating in front of people. He worries that there being new people to get used to eating around won’t be great for him, might trip him up, so he tries to minimize the damage as much as he can by making sure he’s got plenty of snacks. 

Connor likes to tease him about being a walking vending machine. After a while, Sabrina gets in on it, too.

“So it was _you_ who put the almonds in Connor’s tux at cotillion,” she says one day after bio when he pulls out a bag from his pocket. “You know those saved me from, like, passing out, right?” 

“I didn’t,” Evan says honestly, taking a few almonds himself, then offering the bag to Sabrina and Alana. “Almonds are brain food. They’re good for cognition.”

Sabrina laughs a little. “You’re still into the food facts, then?”

“I like knowing things,” he says defensively, and Sabrina smiles widely. 

She seems so much lighter since coming out. So much less guarded, less nervous. 

There’s something really beautiful about seeing someone comfortable in their skin like this. 

Evan has a lot of respect for Sabrina and how she’s handling this all. Especially when all her former friends are viciously turning on her. 

There’s graffiti on her locker almost every day. People whisper about her when she walks the halls.

And she just keeps walking around like she’s this powerful goddess, not giving a fuck what anyone thinks. 

Well, that’s how Connor describes her, at least. 

“It is just the coolest fucking thing,” Connor says on the drive home at the end of that week, this big grin on his face. “She’s just, like, a walking middle finger to the assholes around here, it is so fucking cool.”

“I just wish people weren’t being such assholes,” Evan says with a frown. “Like, so what, she likes girls? What’s not to like about girls?”

Connor’s smile fades. “Spoken like a true straight man.”

Evan feels a little uncomfortable at that. “I’m not, like, trying to be all ‘lesbians are hot’ or whatever.”

Connor looks at him. “Dude. _All_ straight guys think lesbians are hot. Up until a point. There’s got to be some kind of mathematical formula that, like, figures it out. When does a girl making out with a girl stop being hot to a straight guy and start being gross?” His cheeks go a little pink, and his face twists a little, like he’s remembering something unpleasant. “Obviously, it’s completely lost on _me,_ I just think it’s weird.”

Evan shrugs. “There’s a difference between ‘girl on girl’ and ‘girl on girl on my dick’.”

Connor grips the steering wheel tight, his knuckles going white. “Ugh. Straight men are disgusting. Present company excluded.”

“I’m with you on that one,” Evan mutters, thinking back to his dad’s habit of watching full-on lesbian porn in the living room. Probably unrealistic lesbian porn, honestly. He’s always been wary of the fake nails. “I think it’s kind of… there’s that whole performance aspect of it all? Like, girls making out with each other to turn guys on.” Suddenly, he thinks about Zoe’s birthday party and how she and Sabrina were making out in the pool. “Your sister totally made out with Sabrina at her birthday party.”

For a moment, Evan genuinely thinks Connor’s going to swerve into oncoming traffic. 

“Jesus fuck, Evan.”

“Sorry,” Evan says apologetically. “I know you don’t like thinking about your sister like that, but… that’s kind of my point, you know? Like, they were obviously doing that so the guys would think it was hot. And everyone was whistling and cheering and shit. And those same people who were whistling and cheering when Sabrina kissed Zoe at that party are giving her hell for coming out? That’s bullshit. It’s a bullshit double standard.”

It’s even more bullshit that Zoe is happy to make out with Sabrina in front of people to turn on some guys then turn around and call her a dyke in front of the entire cafeteria. 

But Evan’s not going to say that, because he doesn’t want to get into yet another argument with Connor about how his sister’s a huge bitch. 

Connor spends most of the weekend at Evan’s place. They spend a decent amount of time on homework and assignments, but more time kind of just hanging around with MTV on in the background, kind of just messing around on the internet. 

“We should get you a MySpace,” Connor says out of the blue. 

Evan doesn’t really get MySpace, but agrees to let Connor help him set one up, because honestly, it seems to make him happy. He’s probably never going to use it, really, but Connor happily talks him through the whole process. Even goes home to get his digital camera so he can take a profile photo, which Evan thinks is completely insane. 

It’s all kind of weird, really, but Connor’s into it. 

So Evan’s happy to just go along with whatever if it’s going to make Connor smile.

Connor takes a ridiculous number of photos of him, and they take some together. Really stupid ones, too, where they’re making dumb faces and laughing at nothing. 

By the time they’ve got Evan’s profile set up and photos posted, they’ve been at it for hours. Literal hours. 

It doesn’t feel like a waste of time, though. Not even a little bit. 

“So I have to, like, rank my friends?” Evan says as he stares down the top eight spaces on his MySpace page. “This seems like something that could cause some serious drama.”

“Oh yeah,” Connor says easily. “It’s a fucking minefield out there.”

“I don’t even have eight friends,” Evan points out. “I just have you.”

“Check your friend requests,” Connor says, pointing to the screen, and he looks to see that nearly a dozen people have requested to be friends with him on MySpace. 

“I don’t even know half these people,” Evan protests. “Why are they trying to be my friend?”

“Because teenagers exist in a state of perpetual boredom,” Connor says, taking Evan’s laptop and just accepting all the requests. “Oh hey, it’s Alana. And Sabrina. They’re real friends.”

Evan nods. “Yeah, they are.” He looks at Connor. “Is it weird that it feels like we’ve all been eating lunch together forever?”

Connor shakes his head. “I know what you mean.” He smiles a little. “I kind of thought it might be weird at first? But it’s, like… I don’t know, it was easier than I thought, you know?”

“Exactly,” Evan says immediately. He looks at his friends list. “What if I just didn’t choose a top eight?”

“I’d be super offended,” Connor replies with a grin. “Because I just put you in my number one spot.”

“Well, obviously you’re number one,” Evan says, because it’s a no brainer. “Then Alana, then Sabrina, but after that… I don’t know?”

Connor shrugs. “If it doesn’t matter to you, then just go for it. I’ve got some random people in mine.” He laughs a little. “Wow, dude, you’re still getting friend requests, people must be super bored.”

Evan rolls his eyes but clicks on the pop-up telling him he has new friend requests. 

Both he and Connor go quiet when they see who the newest request is from. 

“What the fuck,” Evan mutters, and immediately deletes it. 

There’s no fucking way he’s even pretending to be friends with Miguel. 

Fuck that. 

He looks at Connor, who has gone a little pale. He’s frowning. 

“What the fuck is his problem?” Connor mutters. 

Evan closes his laptop. 

“Wanna watch a movie?” he says. It’s an obvious change of subject, but it seems to work, as Connor agrees immediately. 

Later on over the weekend, after Connor goes home, Evan goes to Miguel’s profile. Just to have a look. 

His photos are fucking ridiculous. He’s done, like, weird shit to them and they’re all at weird angles and the colors are painful to the eye. 

Miguel has, like, an insane number of friends. 

And Connor’s in his top eight friends.

That… 

Evan feels weird about that. 

He clicks on Connor’s page. The first thing he notices is the photos of the two of them. Connor’s posted maybe six of them, all increasingly ridiculous. They both look really happy. 

It makes something inside Evan warm. 

Miguel’s not in Connor’s top eight friends. 

That makes Evan even warmer. 

* * *

The day starts off like most do. Connor drives Evan to school in the morning. They stop at Starbucks. 

Connor’s been trying to change up his order a little. Today he tries a Cinnamon Dolce Latte. It’s a lot of milk but he’s been trying to be less intense about what he will and won’t eat. Or drink in this case. 

So he’s trying to stay away from black coffee. 

Evan smiles hugely at him when he places the order and Connor smiles back. He’s… literally doing nothing but it seems to make Evan happy so he decides he’s going to keep doing it. 

School begins like most school days do. 

Connor mouths off in trig because apparently he is stupid and just can’t fucking help himself. He accuses Mrs. Carlson of being a witch who cast a spell that makes trig a requirement to graduate. He doesn’t get detention this time, but only because at that precise moment the bell rings and class ends. Connor hightails it out of the classroom. He knows he’ll probably get a detention for it tomorrow but he doesn’t care. 

Connor heads off to meet Evan at lunch. 

Evan grins brightly at him and produces a huge Tupperware container of sliced up mango. “Heidi bought like. A dozen.”

Connor grins back. Produces a sandwich from his own bag. Gives half to Evan. 

Connor hasn’t seen Alana yet today, but Sabrina shows up after a few minutes with a tray of food and says, “Why is everyone staring?”

Connor blinks.

People are staring? 

He hasn’t noticed. Connor tries not to be obvious as he looks around. 

People are staring. 

Some are pointing at their table. 

A few people are laughing. 

Connor doesn’t even know _why_ this time. 

“You piss anyone off?” Connor asks Evan. Evan shakes his head, looking very confused and a little freaked. 

“Me either,” Connor says. His neck feels hot. Like he can feel the eyes on him. “I mean, I mouthed off in trig again-”

“Am I going to need to wait around for you to get out of detention?” Evan sounds kind of exasperated. He hasn’t been stuttering so much lately. It makes Connor’s heart warm, even though he knows Evan’s annoyed with him. 

“You really gotta leave poor Mrs. Carlson alone,” Sabrina says reasonably. “She’s not actually an evil witch coming up with inventive new ways to torture you.”

“We have no proof of this,” Connor remarks. “But I didn’t get a detention today. Bell rang-”

Connor doesn’t finish because some asshole at another table shouts, “Hey Quitter! Things aren’t too _hard_ for you today, are they? You’re not _swimming upstream_ right?”

Connor feels a familiar ripple of shame go through him. 

Evan looks at him, questions in his eyes, but then Alana is standing at their table. She looks ashen and frowns at Connor. “Have you been on the school’s website today?”

“No,” Connor says, bewildered. Who the fuck goes on the Harbor website? 

Alana glances around. Pulls her laptop out of her bag and then pushes it across the table to Connor. 

His heart plummets. 

There’s his yearbook photo, taken back in September. He looks pale. Skinny. He’s not smiling. His hair is dirty and lank. 

Under the photo is some text. Whoever coded the HTML did a shitty job because he can see the open bold bracket. 

It says “CONNOR ‘QUITTER’ MURPHY.”

But that’s not the worst part. 

It’s not the worst part at all. 

The worst part is the wall of text beside it. 

And suddenly Connor can’t breathe. He can’t breathe because his note his fucking suicide note is on the homepage of the school website. 

Connor can’t bring himself to read it. 

He sees Evan’s eyes, wide and horrified, taking in the words. 

Connor slams Alana’s laptop closed. 

“Did you do this?” He demands, pointing a shaking finger in her face. 

“No! Oh my god, Connor, I would _never_ do-”

“At the beginning of the year,” Connor goes on, barely hearing her, “you were on one of your little tirades… about-about mental health and shit and you wanted me to-to talk about it, you wanted me to-”

“I _didn’t,_ ” Alana says, her eyes sparkling with tears. “I would never publish that without your consent… I would never.”

“Well then where did they get it?” Connor demands. 

Alana starts to cry in earnest. “I don’t know! People got copies fr-freshman y-year, it could have been anybody!”

Connor takes a shaky breath. 

He can’t be here he absolutely cannot be here. 

He grabs his bag and gets up. 

Crosses the courtyard, to the parking lot. He can’t be here he can’t -

“Where are y-you g-going?”

Connor turns to see Evan’s following him. “I can’t. I can’t be here.”

“You… you sh-shouldn’t be alone right now,” Evan protests. “I’m going with you.”

Connor shakes his head. “No. You’re on probation, you’ll get in trouble if you-”

“So what?” Evan says, and he sounds _pissed._ “I’m n-n-not gonna let you go and-and do something stupid. That’s more important. _You’re_ more important.”

Connor stares at him. 

“At least text Heidi and ask her to call you out or something,” Connor mutters. “I’m not letting you get kicked out of school because I’m being a pussy.”

“Don’t call yourself that,” Evan snaps. 

But he pulls his phone out and calls Heidi. Gives her the short version of what happened and says that he and Connor are going to the beach house. 

Hangs up. 

“Let’s go.”

* * *

The waves are wild today. Wilder than Evan’s ever seen them. 

Fitting, somehow. 

Evan wants to scream about this whole fucking thing. Wants to scream and rage because it’s not fair, it’s not fucking fair. 

He’s not going to, though, because Connor’s more important than his feelings right now. 

It helps a little to see the waves so wild. 

Like they’re as pissed off as he is.

Someone fucking should be. 

Heidi had sounded so devastated on the phone. It hadn’t been a long conversation, but he’d been as clear as he could, and…

If Evan knows Heidi, which he thinks he does by now, she’s probably calling Connor’s dad. 

Hopefully, he’ll rain down the fires of lawyer hell on the school, and get the fucking note taken down, but even if it does get taken down, the damage has been done. 

It’s been done. 

Fuck, the damage was done a long time ago, when Jared fucking Kleinman leaked Connor’s note freshman year. Evan’s going to kill him. 

He’s going to kill him, he realizes. He’s going back to school right now and he’s going to tear that shithead to pieces, he’s going to rip his fucking throat out, he’s going to hit him until he’s nothing but a miserable, useless smear of blood on the pavement, he-

Connor grabs his arm. “It’ll take you a good half hour to walk back to school to kill Jared,” he says. 

Like he can read Evan’s mind or some shit. 

The anger doesn’t go away. Not really. 

But it shifts. Focuses. 

He needs to focus on what’s important, and that’s Connor. 

Connor, who just looks… so wrecked. So sad, so…

Resigned. Like he’d been expecting this. Maybe not this, in particular, but… something bad, something awful and cruel. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, Evan wishes that people weren’t so fucking cruel. 

Connor doesn’t deserve that. 

No one does, sure, but Connor even less, because Connor…

“You’re my favorite person in the world,” Evan says, looking Connor straight in the eye. “You’re incredible. You’re so smart and so funny and you are kind, kinder than people realize, and you don’t deserve any of this. Okay? Whoever did this is… fucking _garbage_ , you’re worth ten of them. More than that, you’re…” He clears his throat. Tries to find the words. “I’m going to find out who did this and I’m going to make them fucking pay.”

Connor’s eyes widen. “You’re not,” he says immediately. “You’re not doing that, I’m not letting you get yourself in trouble for-”

“You’re worth it,” Evan says fiercely. “You are worth getting in trouble for and people need to know not to fuck with you, okay? This stops. This fucking stops, I’m going to stop this, I-”

“That’s not what I need right now.”

Evan blinks. Looks at Connor, whose nose is red and eyes are glassy. He looks so fucking sad. “What do you need?” Evan asks. 

Connor wipes his nose with the back of his hand. “I need you not to get yourself kicked out of school,” he says quietly. “I need you to stay, okay? I need you.”

Evan feels his eyes sting. He puts his arm on Connor’s shoulder. “Okay,” he says quietly. “Okay, I’m… I’m staying. I’m not going anywhere.”

Connor sniffs. Nods, gives this little shrug. 

Lets out a heartbreaking sob. 

Evan can’t stop himself. He pulls Connor into a tight hug. 

Lets Connor cry for what feels like hours. Just holds him. 

It’s what Connor did for him when they visited his mom’s grave. He remembers how safe it made him feel. Protected and cared for and…

Loved. 

It made him feel loved. 

He hopes he can give Connor that now. 

Evan rubs Connor’s back and tells him that it’s okay. Even though it’s not. It’s nowhere _near_ fucking okay and he wants to scream and rage and he genuinely wants to kick Jared Kleinman’s ass because that fucker is one hundred percent involved in what’s just happened. Even if he’s not directly responsible, he’s still fucking responsible, and Evan wants to kill him, genuinely wants him fucking dead, but…

Connor needs him. 

He needs him not to do something stupid and impulsive. 

Even though stupid and impulsive is… basically Evan’s go-to move. Basically all he’s good for. He knows he’s smart but sometimes he’s such a fucking idiot. 

He’ll kick anyone’s ass for Connor. He’s known that since day one. 

_Not_ kicking someone’s ass is going to be harder. 

But he’ll do it. 

Because Connor needs him.

Connor cries for a long time. It’s heartbreaking, and Evan’s overwhelmed with the desire to go punch someone, to lose his shit, to react, to do something to do fucking _something_. 

It would be easier to just go smash a face in. 

This is… harder. 

It’s hard. It doesn’t come naturally. 

But he’ll do it. 

He remembers what Connor told him when he asked him to come with him to visit his mother’s grave. 

“You know I’d do anything for you,” Evan tells Connor quietly as he holds him. “Right?”

Connor lets out what might be a sob but might be a laugh, Evan doesn’t know. 

“Me too,” he says after a while. “Me too, Evan, I…”

He trails off. 

Doesn’t continue his thought. 

Evan holds on tighter. Keeps rubbing his back. 

Connor sags against him and Evan shifts so they’re both more comfortable on the loveseat on the porch of the beach house.

He’s gotta be fucking dehydrated, Evan realizes. He lets go of Connor gently. 

Connor holds on tighter. 

“I’m going to get you some water,” Evan says gently. “I’ll be, like, five seconds, okay, I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t go,” Connor mumbles. 

Evan hesitates. 

It can wait, he decides. 

It can wait. 

* * *

He doesn’t want to be crying. 

He hates crying. A lot. It’s so stupid, like, if you think about it logically. You get sad or angry or stressed or overwhelmed, and your eyes water. What the fuck does that accomplish exactly, other than making your face wet. 

Like. Connor believes in evolution. But he can’t think of an evolutionary explanation for why this happens. 

Or why this thing he’s doing now happens either. Where he’s so upset so he starts to cry and then he gets upset about crying and it makes it worse, it creates a feedback loop and he’s crying because he’s crying because he’s upset so he gets more upset and… 

It’s stupid. Weak. Pathetic to be crying like this about it. 

It already happened. Everyone has already seen the damn thing. Connor doesn’t even know why it bothers him at this point. It’s dumb. Stupid. Makes him a pussy. 

A pussy crying over his own suicide note. There’s some real self-indulgence going on there, seriously. 

And the fact that he’s even upset at all is stupid, really. If he had died, did he expect that the note would have stayed private? Connor’s just... so embarrassed. Mortified to see how people see him. Ashamed of himself for his own stupid weakness and the fact that he’ll _never_ be able to hide it now. 

He’s glad Evan has stopped acting like he is four seconds away from stealing Connor’s car to go beat up whoever did this. He’s glad. 

It doesn’t matter who did this. Or the hows and whys of it. It just matters that they did it. That someone still hates him enough to want to hurt him totally out of the blue like this. 

Part of him stupidly wonders if it was Zoe. 

Not that he thinks she knows enough HTML or general hacking skills to do it. But it does sort of seem like her. Cruel. Calculated. 

He doesn’t think she’s seen the note before today though. Connor had begged his parents not to let her see it. 

It was probably Jared. 

Fuck Jared. That guy is such a prick. 

Fuck. 

It’s so fucking embarrassing. 

Fuck he’s going to have to go back to school tomorrow. He’s going to have to face everyone and they’re all gonna laugh and joke because apparently this is funny to them. 

Another thing Connor doesn’t understand about biology. Like crying, he cannot fathom what the sort of biological evolutionary purpose wanting to die all of the time could possibly be. Like there can’t be an evolutionary reason for being this way. There’s not advantage he can imagine that being exhausted and wanting to die could possibly bring. 

He’s just built wrong. 

He’s built so wrong. 

But… 

At least he’s not alone. Evan’s here. Not out kicking in the teeth of someone involved, but here, with Connor, hugging him and telling him it’s okay if he needs to freak out. 

Connor absolutely does need to freak out. He needs to just… lose it totally. Break stuff. Get high. He needs somewhere secluded and private to scream until his voice actually breaks. 

But he can’t do that to Evan. Especially after his whole “that’s not what I need” speech he gave him. It’s not fair if he goes nuts after he explicitly asked Evan to keep it together. 

So Evan sticks close by and Connor lets himself lose it in a smaller way. He lets himself cry. Lets Evan hug him and rub his back and tell him kind lies about how everything will be okay. He knows better. He knows better than to believe Evan. 

But this is exactly what he needs. 

He needs Evan. He needs Evan by his side. Standing next to him as this all unfolds. Without Evan, Connor thinks, he would have lasted maybe a handful of days this year. It’s kill or be killed. Kids are awful and people hate him. He wouldn’t have made it a week if Evan hadn’t punched Jared. 

Evan is here. He’s here now. He’s listening. To what Connor says he needs. And he’s trying so hard to get it right for Connor and that… is everything. 

Fuck he’s the best friend Connor has ever fucking had. 

* * *

It could be hours later, it could be days, Evan doesn’t know, but he sees a figure coming around the side of the house, walking toward them. It’s Mr. Murphy. He’s in a suit and tie and absolutely does not look like he belongs walking along the sand like this, but he doesn’t seem to care. 

Connor doesn’t seem to notice. He’s asleep, Evan realizes after a moment. 

That’s… fucking heartbreaking. 

Fucking heartbreaking. 

Knowing that he’d cried himself to sleep. 

Mr. Murphy comes up to them cautiously. Takes a seat on the chair at the small dining table on the porch. Looks at Connor, whose eyes are closed, breathing evenly against Evan’s chest. “How is he?” 

“P-pretty upset,” Evan manages to say. Connor’s dad still makes him kind of nervous. “D-did the school call you? Or Heidi?”

“Heidi,” Mr. Murphy says instantly. “I went to the school straight away.” His face darkens. “They’re damn useless, they can’t get the damn note off the damn website, someone’s changed the password and their fucking IT guy is in the Philippines.”

Evan blinks. “Why the Philippines?”

“Cheaper,” Mr. Murphy says, rolling his eyes. “Like money’s a problem at that school, Jesus Christ.” He sighs. “I had a very heated conversation with the principal. Connor’s taking the rest of the week off for mental health reasons. I’ve booked him an appointment with his therapist tomorrow, I…”

Mr. Murphy rubs his face. 

He looks very old, all of a sudden. 

Evan feels his chest twist uncomfortably. 

“Connor’s lucky,” he says suddenly. “To h-have a dad who cares.”

Mr. Murphy’s eyes widen at that. He looks even sadder, and Evan regrets saying anything immediately. He’s about to apologize or something when Mr. Murphy speaks. 

“He’s lucky to have a friend like you.” 

Evan frowns. Shakes his head. “I’m the lucky one, Mr. Murphy. Connor’s… awesome.”

Mr. Murphy looks at him for a long moment. 

“Call me Larry,” he says. “I think we’re there.”

Evan has no idea what to say to that. It’s almost a relief when Connor lifts up his head and looks around. 

Connor frowns a little. “Dad?”

“Hey bud,” says Mr. Murphy, moving so he’s kind of kneeling next to the seat. “I’m so sorry this happened. I am so, so, so sorry.”

Connor’s face crumbles. He looks away. “Not your fault.”

“We’re going to get you some space this week,” Mr. Murphy says firmly. “Okay? You don’t have to go back there until Monday.” 

Connor nods. Moves away from Evan quickly, like he’s embarrassed that they’re basically cuddling. 

Which is fair enough. 

Evan needs to… watch that. Mr. Murphy knows Connor’s gay, he might think that Evan…

He might…

Mr. Murphy is nothing like Evan’s dad. He wouldn’t hurt Connor. 

He wouldn’t. 

They move inside after a while because Connor’s shivering. Turn on MTV. Evan and Connor sit on the couch together and Mr. Murphy takes an armchair for a bit, then excuses himself to make a phone call. When he leaves, Connor moves slightly so he’s leaning his head on Evan’s shoulder. 

“This okay?” he asks, his voice rough. 

“Yeah,” Evan assures him. “It’s okay.” He leans his head against Connor’s briefly, then looks at him. “I’m not going to read it.”

Connor looks up at him. “You’re not?”

Evan shakes his head. “It’s not… I don’t want to support whoever the fuck did that, invaded your privacy like that, I-”

“You should read it.”

Evan blinks. “You want me to?”

Connor looks so sad. “Of course I don’t,” he says softly. “But… everyone else has read it, so you should… you know, know what it says or whatever.”

“I don’t want to do anything that’ll hurt you-”

“You might understand. You might… you might get it.” Connor’s voice is so fucking sad. “And I know you won’t laugh at me. Won’t… won’t make fun of me.”

“Are you sure?” Evan asks, his throat dry. 

Connor nods. “Yeah. Yeah, you… you should read it.” His face twists. “Just… don’t do it in front of me, okay?”

Later that night, Evan sits at the kitchen table with David’s old laptop. 

His heart is beating far too fast. 

He doesn’t…

He doesn’t know if he wants to do this. Wants to read this, wants to know. 

But he thinks it’ll drive him crazy if he doesn’t. 

And Connor… Connor says he should, so…

He opens the laptop. 

Looks up the official school website. 

His heart clenches painfully in his chest as he reads. 

_I want to start by saying that I’m really sorry to whoever finds this note. It’s not your job to have to deal with me or my bullshit, but I couldn’t leave this for my family to find. It would be too cruel. Unfair. I’ve done enough to them already._

_But I’m sorry, whoever you are. I’m sorry you’re stuck with this awful job. It’s okay if you hate me for it. We’ll have something in common then._

_This has been a long time coming. A fitting period at the end of this life sentence. A pathetic, sad attempt to justify what I’ve done._

_I doubt anybody will be interested in the justification. But it felt wrong to leave without so much as a word._

_I never thought I’d be this type of person. Never thought I would be so weak. But I’ve been swimming upstream for so long and I’m tired. I’m exhausted. I can’t bring myself to fight this anymore._

_I never thought I’d be a quitter. That I would be this weak. That I’d become the type who gives up when things get too hard. I’m so disgusted by this thing I’ve become. Reckless and stupid and incapable of anything with any meaning._

_I really tried to be better. To be different. To spend time with the right people, to make myself normal. I tried and tried but it never made any difference. I’m still the person I’ve always been. Wrong. Broken. Heartless. Someone who doesn’t_ fit. _Someone who doesn’t belong._

_I swear I never thought I’d turn out to be a quitter, but sometimes the current is so overwhelming, so powerful that you can only fight for so long. The pain stops being bearable when you realize you’re fighting a battle you won’t ever win._

_Maybe it was stupid of me to hang on as long as I have. I’ve only caused more trouble. More pain._

_So I’m done. I won’t do it anymore. Turns out I’m exactly as weak as I swore I wasn’t._

_If whoever finds this can tell my parents that I said I was sorry, I’d appreciate it. I am so sorry. They didn’t ask for such a broken person, for someone who has never once done anything right. I just hope that they move on. Same for my sister. Zo should know I’m especially sorry for how I treated her. She never deserved any of it. I want her to be happy. She got it the worst and she deserves to have the best life after what I’ve done._

_I’m sorry again to whoever found this. It just felt kinder to leave it to a stranger than someone who might make the mistake of caring._

_Connor Murphy_

Evan closes the laptop with shaking hands.

He…

Oh god. 

Oh god, it…

He can’t stop shaking. His hands are shaking, his whole body is shaking and all he can think about is that fucking song, that song he told Connor about, the one his mom liked the one Connor got him for Christmas, he…

_“I felt he’d found my letters and read each one out loud.”_

He could have written this. He could have…

These could be his words. He’s felt this, he’s thought this, he…

_Sometimes the current is so overwhelming, so powerful that you can only fight for so long._

Evan can’t swim. He’s been afraid of drowning his whole life, he… he remembers looking at a swimming pool when he first arrived in Newport Beach after he’d gotten into a fight with Brian and Chad with Connor at his side and just… considered jumping in. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, he…

_“Your mother killed herself, Evan. That means you have a family history of mental illness. I really think that therapy would be helpful for you.”_

He’d told Heidi no. 

Told her he wouldn’t… he wasn’t like that, he didn’t think about this, he…

He’d lied. 

Of course he’d lied, he’d always lied, he _always_ lies. 

_The pain stops being bearable when you realize you’re fighting a battle you won’t ever win._

Evan’s dimly aware that he’s crying. Shaking, crying quietly and feeling his heart break because he knows this feeling, knows it well, and his best friend in the world knows it, too. Feels it. Feels _this_. 

Tomorrow, Evan will go back to school and listen to people mock Connor’s pain. A pain Evan understands, deep in his bones. 

It is unfathomably cruel. 

More cruel than he can ever imagine being. 

More cruelty than anyone deserves, much less Connor. 

Connor doesn’t deserve this. 

No one deserves this, but especially not Connor. 

Not Connor. 

* * *

Connor doesn’t sleep that night. 

He’s exhausted but it just… doesn’t happen. 

His dad is pissed. He’s mentioned suing the school a few times but Connor knows it would only make things worse. 

If there’s a lawsuit, then this will follow him everywhere for the rest of his life. And it’s not like his family needs the money. 

Connor’s dad is watching him like a hawk. 

A really _gentle_ hawk, but still a hawk. 

Connor thinks his dad is worried he’ll try something now that the note is out. 

It would save him from having to write another one, Connor thinks bitterly. 

But even if he wanted to. 

Which he’s not sure he does. 

But even if he wanted to, he’d never manage it with Larry hovering. He offers to take the next day off of work and Connor finally snaps. “I’m not gonna kill myself if you’re not home,” he says. “Mom’ll be here. Jesus.”

“Bud, I… I’m just worried about you,” his dad says. He sounds almost helpless. 

Connor doesn’t like that. He prefers TV Dad Larry. Wishes he’d just make a lame offer to play catch and then leave Connor alone. 

“I… bud you know I trust you…” 

Connor doubts that very much. “I don’t have any drugs. Don’t worry.”

His dad still has this look on his face. “You can look if you wanna. You know all of my hiding places anyway.”

His dad looks torn. 

“It’s okay,” Connor lies. “I’m gonna go take a shower. You can look then.” He chews his lips to keep from crying anymore. “I won’t be mad.”

Connor does exactly that. Grabs his pajamas and goes and showers and only sort of thinks about plugging in the hairdryer and turning it on in the bath or something. 

His dad never quite manages to put everything back the way it was. Connor debates telling him about the drugs in Zoe’s room, but he decides he’s ruined his dad’s day enough already. 

Larry does stop his idiocy just short of actually sleeping in Connor’s bedroom. 

Which Connor appreciates. 

Because he’s stupid, Connor checks out MySpace once his dad goes to bed. 

The note has migrated as a bulletin. 

Some people share it and say how sad it is. A few people Connor is friends with on MySpace at Hanover seem to take the note as him being dead. He gets “RIP” comments from them. Even Miguel messages him, saying, “I saw it, but this says you’re online. Are you okay?”

Connor ignores the message. 

Other people message it to Connor directly with suggestions for how he might finish the job next time. Tommy Whittington tells him to try choking on a dick. 

Connor responds that it sounds like Tommy’s coming onto him and then logs out. 

He probably just poked the bear but he can’t. He can’t just say nothing. 

He can’t say nothing. 

Connor sneaks out for a cigarette in the middle of the night. He hopes wildly that Evan’s having trouble sleeping and will join him. 

He doesn’t. 

He doesn’t really know why he told Evan to read the note. That fucking note has been following Connor around for almost two years by now he he guesses he’s just… tired of trying to outrun it. Evan’s gotten stuck with a reputation as Quitter’s best friend. It only seems fair he should know why he’s been slapped with that name. 

And part of Connor. Thinks that maybe Evan will… understand. If he reads it. He’ll get what Connor was trying to say, the words he wrote intended as a goodbye and an apology which have only become more twisted and warped the more hands they have fallen into. 

He kind of feels sorry for Evan. He already has so much shit to deal with, and now Connor has made school worse for both of them. 

Why the fuck did he leave the note in his locker? 

He knows why. He _said_ why. 

He thought that making his family deal with a body was already cruel enough. He figured some sad peon at school would be tasked with having to clear out Connor’s locker once he was dead and that they’d give it to his parents after a few weeks. 

He didn’t count on his dad finding him before he’d finished the job. 

He definitely didn’t count on Jared pushing to take Connor his books while he was in the psych ward and using the note as a means to cover his own ass. He was freaking the fuck out when news broke that Connor Murphy overdosed. Scared Connor would name names. 

They had been… kind of friends. Freshman year. Jared took up selling drugs because his cousin was the resident guy but he was a senior and wanted to pass his legacy along. 

Jared had a shitty sense of quantity at first. He’s smarter now, or so Connor has heard. 

Connor and Jared were sort of friends. So when he asked him for the pills, Jared gave him a _discount._

Like he wanted to reward a loyal customer. 

“You going to a big party or something?” Jared had asked him. 

“Something like that,” Connor had told him. 

He’d been so. Scared. When he took the pills. Irritated by the anticlimax of it all. 

He doesn’t even really have a good sense of memory about it. 

He remembers being in his room. On his bed. He was too scared to go anywhere else. 

Stupidly he didn’t want to die totally alone. 

Zoe had been practicing her guitar in the next room. 

He remembered feeling sick. Cold. Like he was going to throw up. 

And then he remembers his dad’s face floating above his. 

Then not a lot until the hospital. 

He swore it was an accident. Swore up and down that he wasn’t trying to hurt himself. He refused to say where he got the pills for weeks. Didn’t confess who his supplier was until the note made its rounds at school. And even then he kept buying drugs off of Jared until he went to rehab. 

Connor remembers it was weird in those first few weeks. Feeling almost relieved because everyone was so _nice_ immediately after it happened. People seemed worried. His dad in particular. They’d been fighting a lot right before. Loud, angry fights, ones where Connor would slam doors and break things and scream until his voice gave out like a busted old engine that couldn’t turn over anymore. 

His mom made him go shower and change before they’d let Zoe see him. 

He remembers begging his parents not to ever let Zoe see his note once it came out at school. 

Someone had gratified his locker by the time he returned to school a few weeks later. 

Connor wasn’t smart enough to know hand sanitizer gets rid of sharpie yet. He scrubbed and scrubbed at the words with soap but it still left the word “quitter” behind and. 

Then that was his nickname. 

Connor was a quitter.

He still feels like one. 

He hates it. 

Part of him hopes Evan didn’t actually read the note. What if he thinks Connor is a giant freak? What if he reads it and decides not to be Connor’s friend anymore? What if this is the thing that finally pushes him away? 

Or what if, worse, he understands it too well. He confirms the fear Connor carries around inside. That Evan feels it too. That Evan thinks he’s broken and unwanted too...

God, he hopes not. 

Not for anybody but definitely not for Evan. 

* * *

Heidi wakes Evan up the next morning. Sits down on the edge of his bed and smiles at him, a little sadly. 

“So I’m going to ask you a question,” she says, her voice even, “and I need you to give me an honest answer, okay?”

Evan’s never done well with honest answers, but for Heidi, he’ll try. “Okay.”

“If you go to school today, after everything that happened with Connor and his note yesterday, how likely are you to get in a fight if Connor’s not there to stop you?”

Evan feels his cheeks go red immediately. He looks at the comforter. “I’d say about an 85% chance that I’ll punch someone,” he admits. 

Heidi’s quiet for a moment. “I thought so,” she said with an almost laugh. “As weird as it is for me to say, Connor’s good for your impulse control.” He looks at her, and she smiles. “And I saw that kid get his hand stuck in a full jar of peanut butter when he was nine. He told us he wanted to know what would happen.”

Evan actually smiles at that. 

He bets Connor was a cute kid. 

“Let me guess,” Evan says. “His hand got covered in peanut butter?”

Heidi grins. “Yup. It was the smooth kind. He then spent like ten minutes running around trying to scare his sister with his haunted peanut butter hand.”

“Oh my god,” Evan says. That is too fucking cute. 

Heidi shifts a little. “I’ve gotta go to work soon,” she says apologetically. “I need to get an early start because I’m meeting Larry for lunch. He wants a sounding board about what to do about this whole thing with the school website.”

“What do you mean?” Evan asks. 

“Larry wants to sue,” Heidi says matter-of-factly. “We’re looking at privacy laws and things like that. But he also knows it’s the best school in the area, and…” She shrugs. “It’s complicated. It’s hard to know what to do.”

“They could move him to another school?” Evan asks, feeling his heart start to beat too quickly. 

“It’s a possibility,” Heidi admits. “Newport Union is nearby. It just… doesn’t have the same opportunities.” She pauses. Frowns a little. “I don’t mean to be elitist, I really don’t, but… I wanted to send you to Harbor because I wanted you to have the opportunity for a good education. I know that socially it can be a challenge, but what you get out of it academically makes up for it, I hope.” She smiles a little weakly. “Like that writing workshop? That’s not something you’d get at Newport Union. I know things were a little weird because of Miguel but the workshop itself was really good for you, right?”

“Yeah,” Evan admits uneasily. He’s starting to see her point. He sighs. “And at Harbor, the teachers notice when you’re smart?” He feels like an asshole immediately. “That makes me sound so fucking conceited-”

“You _are_ smart,” Heidi interrupts firmly. “You are extremely intelligent. And so is Connor. And you deserve those educational opportunities.” She pauses for a moment. “Your English teacher emailed me about an essay competition?”

Evan nods. “I already submitted it.”

Heidi smiles. “Mr. Stevens was really impressed. He thinks you’ve got a good chance at winning.” 

Evan feels this strange, warm feeling go over him. “Really?”

Heidi grins even wider. “Definitely, yeah. He said it’s the strongest entry from the school and that Harbor usually does well in these things.” She reaches out and grabs Evan’s hand. Squeezes it lightly. “Have I mentioned lately that I think you’re amazing?”

Evan feels his face heat up immediately, like it's engulfed in red hot flames. “I’m not-”

“You are,” Heidi insists. “So you got a rocky start, but you’ve more than made up for it. I know this kind of academic pressure isn’t what you’re used to, but you’re working so hard and it’s really paying off.” She smiles even bigger. “Larry tells me that Connor’s working harder, too, and you’re both excelling academically. Which isn’t easy at a school like Harbor.”

Evan shrugs, feeling so incredibly self-conscious. “Can’t rich parents just, like, buy their kids good grades?”

“People try,” Heidi says with a nod, her expression serious. “But the community is watching that school like a hawk.” Her face flashes with annoyance. “Honestly, it’s mostly behavior stuff people try to bribe their way out of. Grades seem to be where they draw the line.” She looks at Evan intently. “So if you’re doing well at Harbor, you are doing _well_. Okay? We’re talking Ivy League university well.”

What. 

What?

“Are you fucking serious?”

Heidi nods. “Yeah,” she says firmly. “Absolutely. If that’s what you wanted, you could have that.”

Evan swallows. Shakes his head. “I can’t pay for-”

“I am your legal guardian,” Heidi interrupts firmly. “Once you decide where you want to go to college, I will take care of the rest.”

What the fuck. 

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck. 

“No way,” Evan says immediately, pulling his hand away from Heidi’s. “No way would I let you pay for, like, H-Harvard or something-”

“If you got into Harvard and wanted to go you absolutely _would_ let me pay,” Heidi says, in this fierce tone like she won’t be argued with. “I signed up to take care of you, Evan, and that includes giving you the best future I can afford. And I can more than afford an Ivy League education.”

Evan shakes his head so hard and fast it almost hurts. “No. No, you can’t spend that kind of money on me, you can’t-”

“We can talk about this more when you're applying for colleges,” Heidi says, her voice a little softer. “Okay, Evan? We can talk about it, and negotiate it. I don’t want to freak you out, I’m not trying to do something that’ll make you uncomfortable, I am just making sure you understand that you have options, sweetheart. You have so many options because you are so damn smart. And I have the resources to help. I _want_ to help.” She pauses. Bites her lip. “Your dreams aren’t out of reach anymore, Evan. Whatever you want to do with your life, I’m going to do everything I can to make it happen.”

That’s…

Overwhelming. 

He is overwhelmed. 

Evan knows he should be grateful, should be over the moon about this, should be so fucking happy that someone like Heidi wants to look out for him, wants to take care of him like this. 

Part of him is. 

But the other part of him is just… terrified. Completely and utterly terrified of the future. He hasn’t spent a lot of time thinking about the future, and now he’s expected to. Heidi wants him to. 

And it terrifies him. 

Evan showers and changes then heads to the Murphys. As he’s walking down Heidi’s driveway, he sees Zoe’s car at the bottom of the shared driveway. He stops and waits until it’s well out of sight before heading up the Murphys’ driveway. 

He doesn’t think he can deal with Zoe right now. 

Not now that he’s actually read the note. 

How could she call her own brother that awful, hurtful nickname?

Evan focuses everything he’s got on tamping down that anger as he walks up the driveway and to the Murphys’ front door. He needs to get that under control because Connor doesn’t deserve to have to deal with him being stupidly angry. 

Evan just needs to be… there. 

Any way he can. 

He rings the doorbell nervously, wiping his hands on his jeans. It takes a while, but after a moment, the front door opens. 

It’s Mrs. Murphy. 

Evan’s immediately on edge. This woman does not like him. Called him retarded. She does not like him and…

A strange, prickly feeling comes over him as he takes in her expression. Her bloodshot eyes. The smell. 

She’s drunk. 

She’s drunk?

It’s barely even eight in the morning and she’s…

She was in rehab over Christmas, after the mess at cotillion, and now she’s drunk first thing in the morning. Fuck. 

Fuck. 

“What do you want?” she asks icily. 

“I’m h-h-here to see Connor?” he manages to choke out. Fuck. Fuck, his stutter just wants to fuck everything up, fuck fuck fuck. 

“He’s not here,” says Mrs. Murphy. 

And, well, that’s a blatant fucking lie, because this is his house, where the fuck else would he be?

“Wh-wh-where is he-”

“I’m onto you,” she interrupts, her voice going from icy to full-on blizzard. “I’m onto you, and I won’t fucking stand for it, you hear me?”

Evan’s heart is beating way too fast. “I-I-I-I-I-”

“Just shut up,” she snaps, “and listen. If you’re not too stupid to do that.”

He can feel the blood racing in his head, behind his ears, he’s trying not to clench his fists, trying not to lose it, nothing this woman has to say matters she’s drunk she’s a drunk she doesn’t matter it doesn’t matter. 

“You’re ruining everything,” she hisses. “Everything was fine before you showed up. You’re just like your aunt, you stick your nose in where you don’t belong and make people forget who they are. Forget what matters.”

Evan keeps his mouth shut. He doesn’t think he could get out a reply anyway. 

“And I honestly don’t know what either of my kids see in you,” she continues. “Everything about you is average at best. I may not like Heidi Herzberg, but I can understand why David would throw everything away for a pretty blonde tart.” 

“D-d-d-don’t call her that.”

Mrs. Murphy laughs coldly. “How am I supposed to take you seriously when you can barely speak? Zoe was an idiot to give you the time of day. And _Connor-”_

_“Don’t.”_

That comes out stronger than he means it to. Stronger and harder and colder. 

It seems to throw Mrs. Murphy off her rhythm a little. 

Her eyes widen. 

“Well,” she says after a while. “At least that’s something.” She narrows her eyes. “Connor’s not here,” she says again, and slams the door in his face. 

Right in his face. 

Evan just… stands there for a while. Not sure what to do. 

He knew Mrs. Murphy hated him, but he didn’t…

He didn’t know she was drinking. 

She’s being pretty fucking obvious about it. Connor must know. 

Surely he must know. 

Then again, he’s not home during the day much, and he’s probably…

Fuck.

Maybe he doesn’t know. 

Is Evan supposed to tell him? Should he?

Evan walks around the side of the house cautiously. Heads toward the pool. If he can get to the pool house, then maybe Connor might be there. 

Connor’s sitting at the edge of the pool, smoking a cigarette, his feet in the water. 

Oh, thank god. 

“Hey,” Evan calls out quietly. 

Connor looks at him. Evan’s heartbeat slows down almost immediately, just by seeing him. 

Connor always makes him feel better, somehow. 

* * *

Connor doesn’t have to go to school today, and Zoe throws a fit in the morning. Connor can’t fucking deal with it. 

Some asshole leaked his fucking suicide note online and the whole fucking school saw it, but of course Zoe has no sympathy for him. 

Connor can’t deal with it. 

He sneaks out to the pool house, deciding he’s going to get stoned. 

But his weed stash is missing. 

Fuck. 

Is the pool boy stealing his weed?

Connor stupidly feels like crying. 

He ends up sitting by the side of the pool in his pajamas, smoking cigarettes. He rolls up the legs of his pants and sticks his feet in the water. He doesn’t give a fuck if his mom sees him. 

She’s probably on drink number two or three by now anyway. 

Connor smokes and thinks about just throwing himself in the pool. 

But he can swim so. Wouldn’t make much of a difference. He would just be like… wet. Wet and miserable. 

Connor sighs. Takes a deep drag on his cigarette. 

“Hey,” Connor hears. He turns to see Evan standing there, not far from the side of the house. “I w-went to the front door but your mom said you w-weren’t home?”

Connor frowns. 

Evan comes and sits beside the pool. 

“Why aren’t you at school?”

Evan gives him a lopsided smile. “H-Heidi s-says that she’d b-be a moron to l-let me go to school without you today.” He loops an arm around Connor unexpectedly. “Apparently, she th-thinks that y-you’re the only p-person who can keep me from punching p-people.”

“Really?” Connor says, surprised. He has notoriously awful impulse control. Heidi knows this. He’s a fucking drug addict. He had sex with Miguel without a condom or proper lube in D.C. He’s always been stupid about his impulses. Once he stuck his hand into a jar of peanut butter just because he wanted to see what would happen. As a kid, he played with fire. Burned his eyebrows off more than once. 

For the record, when you set something on fire? It’s just on fire. It burns. Nothing else ever happens. 

That inevitability feels sort of fitting today. 

When you light something on fire, all it’ll do is burn. 

When you blow up your life, it just blows up. It destructs. 

Evan’s got his arm around Connor and Connor sighs and leans his head against his friend’s shoulder. 

His mom will lose her shit if she sees them but Connor doesn’t care. He just. 

He needs Evan right now. 

He’s so glad he’s here. 

So he lets himself need him. 

“Did you sleep at all last night?” Evan asks. 

Connor picks up his head and shakes it. “No. Watched the sun come up.” He sighs. “I just… everyone _saw_ it.”

Evan sighs. “Yeah.”

Connor takes a shuddering breath. “Did you…?”

Evan looks really fucking sad. It makes him look almost like a little kid. 

“I did.”

Connor holds his breath. 

“I’m… Connor, I’m s-so sorry. I’m so so fucking sorry.”

He shrugs. “It’s… whatever.”

“I’m so sorry p-people are… y’know. Being assholes about it,” Evan says. “I just. It seems r-really obvious that you were… in a lot of pain?”

Connor sighs. “Yeah well…”

He doesn’t have anything else to say. 

Because… he was. 

Hell, it’s kind of telling that he overdosed on painkillers if you think about it. 

He wanted the pain to stop. He quit. He couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t own it. He wanted it to stop. 

Still wants that sometimes.

But he can’t tell Evan that. It would scare the shit out of him. 

Plus Evan says Connor’s not allowed to die so. 

He’s apparently stuck. More stuck than he was before. 

At least before nobody depended on him sticking around. He still had an out. 

Most of the time knowing that someone wants him alive is comforting. Is helpful. 

But today it kind of makes him feel trapped. 

He sighs. 

Thinks back to what Evan said when he first got there. How he saw Connor’s mom. 

Fuck. So he knows then. 

No point hiding it. “You saw my mom?” He says. 

Evan looks caught. “Yeah.”

“So you know,” he says, looking out into the pool. “That she’s…”

Evan nods. Connor sees it out of the corner of his eye. “She fell off the wagon…”

“Not sure she was ever really _on_ it,” Connor mutters. “She started drinking the night she got home from rehab.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Evan says. 

Connor shakes his head. “She said if I told anybody… that she'd send me away again.” He can’t look at Evan. “And I… look things are fucking awful here, but I _really_ don’t want to have to… start all over again. Leave you here.” He sighs. Tries to joke. “Apparently I’m the only thing standing in the way of you punching people so.”

“Connor…”

He shakes his head again. “I… she told me she never wanted me.” He breathes. In. Out. Can’t look at Evan. “When I caught her and… I believe her. I… she doesn’t want me. She never did. She’d send me away in a heartbeat, okay? So please. Don’t tell anyone?”

“Connor.”

“I don’t want to leave,” he practically begs. “ _Please._ ”

Evan looks pissed. “Your dad wouldn’t let her send you away.”

“You don’t know that,” Connor says. “She could. I dunno. Spin this shit at school or-or make it seem like it’s his idea? I can’t risk it. Please. Don’t tell. Please.”

Evan gives Connor a hard look. “Has she hit you again?”

“ _No_ ,” Connor says forcefully. 

“I don’t like this,” Evan says. He sounds so fucking upset. “You shouldn’t be putting up with this… maybe you should tell your dad.”

“She’ll get rid of me,” Connor insists. 

“Is that the worst thing?” Evan asks him. “Is it worse than having to put up with her bullshit? The shit at school?”

_Yes._

_I’d have to leave you._

_I can’t leave you._

“If I have to go away again…. I couldn’t take it,” Connor confesses. “I know I’d. I’d fuck up and do something stupid, I _know_ I would. I can’t take it…”

“You don’t mean that,” Evan says. He sounds _scared._

“I don’t _know_ what I mean,” Connor says. Fuck when did he start crying? He’s such a fucking pussy. So his mom is kind of mean to him. So school sucks. Some people have real problems. Connor doesn’t. 

“You promised,” Evan insists, almost childishly. “You swore you… you wouldn’t ever-”

“No,” Connor says, his voice shaking. “No, you told me… you said I couldn’t. I never promised shit.”

“Connor.”

“I don’t…. I can’t leave. I wouldn’t survive it.” He shakes his head. “At least here it can’t get _worse._ Everyone here already knows my garbage and-and-and I can’t start over. Not again. If I had to go it alone again I wouldn’t survive it.”

“You don’t mean that!”

Connor gets up, intending to shove Evan away and maybe yell at him because he _doesn’t fucking get it._

But he stands up too fast and he’s kind of dizzy and then somehow he’s splashing into the pool. 

Connor is surprised by it. Suddenly being submerged underwater. 

It’s a shock. 

Maybe a welcome one. 

He surfaces and Evan looks horrified and Connor just. Starts laughing. 

Like. Jesus, he’s such a clumsy asshole that he… fell in the pool. 

He’s tangentially glad he didn’t have his phone with him. But mostly he’s just… laughing. Fuck he is so stupid. 

He’s just. 

In the fucking pool. 

“Are you okay? Did you hit your head?”

“I’m fine,” Connor laughs. “Just. Wet. I’m an idiot.”

Evan is just looking at him. Like he’s lost it completely, like Connor is certifiably insane, like he’s absolutely nuts. 

Connor might be. Who the fuck knows? He floats on his back for a bit. He hasn’t been in the pool in forever. Swim trunks freak him out. Having his nipples out for the whole world to see? No thank you. 

Evan is looking at him while Connor floats around. There’s something sort of assessing in his eyes. 

“How deep is the water?” Evan asks. 

Connor shrugs. Rights himself. The water comes to about his shoulder. “Right here? Maybe like. Five feet? It gets deeper over there. Why?”

And then Evan’s kicking off his shoes and setting his cell phone in one of them and his wallet in the other. Connor doesn’t even have time to protest that Evan can’t fucking _swim_ before he’s jumped into the pool as well. His head goes under but only for a second, and then he comes up and says, “Holy shit, why didn’t you say it was _cold?_ ”

Connor shrugs. “Guess the heater isn’t on?”

“Holy fuck it’s freezing,” Evan says, and his teeth are genuinely chattering and he splashes Connor and he’s laughing too. 

“You impulsive fuck,” Connor says, splashing him back. “You’re an idiot. You can’t even swim!”

“I can stand up,” Evan says, splashing him again. “How short do you think I am?”

Connor never gave it a lot of thought. 

He supposes Evan’s not _that_ much shorter than him. “You told me after you got thrown in a pool, you didn’t _want_ to swim.”

“Yeah, well, after your _graceful_ dive in I th-thought maybe y-you needed someone else to embarrass themself. Even the-the score.”

Connor rolls his eyes. 

Evan splashes him again. 

But then his face is more serious. “I t-told you. I’d do anything for you.”

He’s standing kind of close to Connor in the water. Connor realizes that Evan’s light blue shirt is practically see-through. Connor can make out the outline of his nipples. 

He cannot be thinking about Evan’s fucking _nipples_ right now _._

“Zoe would be pissed about you jumping in chlorinated water in your lovely Abercrombie outfit,” Connor says. 

“Pretty sure this shirt says Hollister,” Evan retorts. He splashes Connor again. “When did you stop being able to read?”

“What’s reading?” Connor feels a lot lighter then. Splashing around in the pool with Evan. It’s dumb and young and stupid but he feels less…. awful. Less like he’s inevitably going to blow up. Like he’s doused the flames he lit just to see what would happen with pool water. 

Connor and Evan keep splashing each other. Connor floats on his back a little. 

He can tell Evan’s watching so he says, trying not to sound weird, “I can show you?” 

Evan’s cheeks go a little pink. 

But he nods. 

Connor helps Evan to lean back in the pool. Supports his shoulders and instructs him to relax. He holds on until Evan is floating on his own. 

“See? You’ve got this,” Connor says. 

“But I’m n-not even doing anything?” Evan says. 

“Exactly. That’s the basic thing. Just. Floating.”

* * *

It’s nice. 

Floating is… nice. He’s never done this before. 

No one’s ever taken the time to explain this to him. 

Connor is… so good, he thinks as they float. 

He’s so good. So kind. So much kinder than anyone realizes or gives him credit for. 

All he’s done is help. Ever since Evan got here, all Connor’s done is help. 

It’s all he’s done. 

And Evan wants to help him back. He desperately, desperately wants to help. Wants to protect him, wants to save him from the shit he has to go through. 

Wants to punch the assholes at school who think it’s fucking okay to make fun of him for a fucking suicide attempt. 

Wants to punch his mom for her cruelty. For telling Connor she never wanted him. 

Who says that? 

Who _says that_ to their child? 

_Don’t be fucking naive,_ the voice in Evan’s head sneers at him. _Mark said it. Mark said it a million times while he was drinking. He never wanted you, and you have proof. Concrete proof. He didn’t stick around when you were a baby and it took them three years to find them after your mom died._

_Oh, and in case you forgot, your mom killed herself._

_She didn’t want you either._

Evan grits his teeth. This isn’t about him and his stupid, sad life. 

This is about his best friend being trapped with his alcoholic mother who could say or do fuck knows what. 

Evan wants it to stop. Wants to remove him from the situation that could cause him pain. 

But he doesn’t want to lose him. 

He doesn’t want him to go. 

Evan thinks back to Chino. How he’d done his best to hide how much his dad hurt him from Angela and the other librarians because he’d been so afraid that he’d get that safe space taken away from him, somehow. How the library had been a place of comfort and he’d done everything he could to hide his reality so he wouldn’t lose that one good thing. 

You can hold on for a really long time if you have one good thing. 

But even that’s not enough. Look at Evan’s mom. 

She’d always tell him that he was the only good thing to ever happen to her. He couldn't understand that at six. At seven. Now he thinks maybe he does. 

If you’ve only got one good thing, you can hold on for a really long time. 

But you can’t always hold on forever. 

Evan looks up at the sky. It’s a nice day, like it always is. The sun shines on his face and the sky goes on for forever like this. 

He didn’t realize that floating in water could be this nice. You’re on your back, and all you see is sky. 

It’s peaceful. He likes it. 

He’s been missing out, not being able to fucking swim. 

He suddenly feels like he could cry. Like he’s been given something precious and rare. 

He rights himself so he’s standing in the water. Connor seems to notice and does likewise. They stand there and look at each other for a while. 

“Thank you,” Evan says quietly. 

Connor’s eyebrows raise. “I did literally nothing.”

Evan shakes his head. “No, you…” He shrugs. Wipes his face a little as he’s getting water in his eye. “I never learned how to do that and it’s… nice.”

Connor tilts his head. Smiles. “Yeah?”

Evan nods. “Yeah.” He tries to figure out how to say it. “It m-makes it less… less terrifying, less scary, knowing I can… knowing how to do that.”

Something in Connor’s expression shifts. He goes pale. 

Evan’s heart starts to beat too fast. 

“When you first arrived in Newport,” Connor says, his voice careful, “and we walked home after that party. You stood by the Wallace’s pool and just… looked at it. Like you wanted to… like you were thinking about jumping in.” 

Evan feels his own face drain of color. “I d-d-don’t remember that.”

Connor frowns. “You were concussed and you were freaking out and there was this look on your face that I…” He swallows visibly. Evan can see the muscles in his neck move. “You were thinking about it.”

Evan shakes his head. “I wasn’t.”

Connor’s voice breaks. Goes quiet. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I…”

Fuck. 

Fuck, he can’t, he…

“Just b-because I think about it sometimes,” Evan says, trying his hardest to keep steady, “d-d-doesn’t mean I will. Okay? It doesn’t m-m-mean anything-”

“You can’t,” Connor interrupts sharply. “Okay. You’re not allowed. If you’re going to tell me that I’m not allowed, then you’re not allowed either.”

Evan can’t… he can’t say anything. 

He’s frozen, he…

He doesn’t. He isn’t going to, he’s not…

“We should get out of the pool,” Evan says. “We’re both, like, fully dressed.”

Connor looks like he very badly wants to argue, but Evan heads to the ladder. Manages to climb out, extremely ungracefully, then leans down to help Connor up and out of the pool. 

Connor just stares at him for a moment. His cheeks go pink. 

“I just want another minute,” he says, his voice a little breathy. “But you should run home and get changed, okay? I’ll meet you at the pool house?”

“Yours or mine?” Evan asks. 

Connor bites his lip. He won’t meet his eye. “Yours,” he says after a moment. “I’ll, uh… grab my phone and my English homework. Have a shower. Then I’ll meet you there, okay?”

Evan supposes that makes sense. He smiles at him, nods a little, then focuses on getting back to Heidi’s and not having it be super obvious that he just jumped in a swimming pool fully clothed. 

As he walks away, he thinks he can feel Connor watching him. 

* * *

Cool, so apparently being really bummed out has not granted Connor a reprieve from getting really unfortunate boners. 

Figures. 

Life just hates him. 

Once Connor is totally sure that Evan is not gonna turn around and watch him crawl out of the pool in his soaking wet pajamas with a very obvious boner, he creeps across the lawn to the pool house. 

The nice thing about the pool house is that Blanca does a lot of laundry in here. 

There’s a washer and dryer inside of course, but the one out in the pool house is newer and bigger. She says it’s because that way she can do more clothes at once, but Connor suspects it’s more because if she’s here she doesn’t have to deal with his mom. 

He notes happily that Blanca is, in fact, doing some laundry in the pool house when he gets there. He politely does not go barging inside (because Blanca would feel obligated to mop the floors up) and instead opens the door and asks if she could get him a towel. 

He’s managed to conceal his fucking obnoxious dick a little because his shirt is hanging down so far now that it’s wet. 

Blanca laughs at him as she gives him one of the towels. It’s fluffy and soft. “Did you go swimming?”

“Not on purpose,” He says, shrugging. “I’m kinda… my mom said she had a headache? I’m trying to stay out of her hair,” he says. 

“Yes, Ms. Cynthia and her _headaches,_ ” Blanca says, and her tone suggests that she too knows that his mom has been drinking again. “Come in. I need to wash the floors anyway. You can have a shower and change. I just washed those awful jeans of yours. They’ll be out of the dryer in ten.” 

Those “awful jeans” are his ripped black ones. They’re his favorite. 

He would hug Blanca if he wasn’t dripping wet. 

“Oh, by the way,” She says suddenly. “Can you please stop dumping your ashes in the fern’s pot? It is starting to smell like… _you know_.”

“I haven’t been dumping my ashes in there,” Connor says honestly. He doesn’t usually smoke up in the pool house. 

“Uh-huh,” Blanca doesn’t sound impressed. “Go shower you look like a wet dog.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

Connor towels off as best he can and then heads into the pool house. Crosses to the bathroom where he strips off his soaked pajamas. 

Now that he’s alone, he can’t stop thinking about seeing Evan’s chest through his wet shirt. He can’t stop thinking about how it felt to help him float. How nice it was to see him relax against Connor’s grip, how his hair looked when it was all wet and sticking to his forehead, how his nipples tightened because of the cold water… 

Fuck. 

Connor drags himself into the shower. Bites his lip hard as he takes care of the boner problem. 

He tries not to think about his fifty-year-old housekeeper in the other room. 

It’s surprisingly easy to block her existence out. 

Once that’s done, Connor washes his hair. The shampoo in the pool house smells like coconuts. He leaves the conditioner in for a while and then rinses off. 

He hears a knock from Blanca saying she’s leaving his clothes outside the door. Connor scoops them up and then dries himself off more thoroughly. 

In the mirror, he can see his cheeks and chest are flushed. 

He feels sort of stupid but… for a second he doesn’t look so bad. Sure, his ears kind of stick out, but they always do. But he doesn’t look… like he usually does. Shitty and huge and greasy and gross. He looks almost… normal. 

He’s surprised. He didn’t think he could do normal anymore. 

Once he’s dressed, Connor sticks his feet into an old pair of flip flops, thanks Blanca for being awesome, and sneaks back into the main house. He forgot he needed to grab his school stuff and his phone. 

He manages to avoid his mom, which is a small miracle. 

He cuts through the yard to Evan’s pool house. 

Heidi’s pool house?

Whatever. It can be Evan’s. He lives there after all. 

Evan’s wearing dry clothes and sitting on the bed when Connor gets there. The TV is playing MTV; there’s a video on for some rap song. “Doesn’t seem to be emo day today,” He says. 

“Bummer.” 

Connor cautiously sits on the bed beside Evan. Evan suddenly reaches out and touches Connor’s ear. Right where his industrial bar is. “Did that hurt?”

Connor feels his face heat up. “Uh. Yeah, like. A little.” 

“Huh.” Evan grins. “You can’t normally see it. Your hair’s usually in the way.” 

“I have stupidly big ears.” 

Evan rolls his eyes. “You don’t.”

“I do. They stick out and whatever.” 

Evan shakes his head. “They’re like. _Normal_ ears, man. You don’t need to be self-conscious about them.” He grins a bit. “Plus you’ve got them pierced. That’s like. Badass.”

Connor laughs. “Nah, they’ll just confiscate my emo card if I didn’t do something with them, and I wasn’t interested in gauges so.”

“Gauges?”

“When you stretch your earlobes?” Connor says. He’s continually thrown by what Evan just. Doesn’t know. Connor always assumed he was the most socially inept person. That he had no idea how people his own age related to each other. 

But like. He’s still more tuned in than Evan is. 

Not that Evan’s like stupid or whatever. He is the smartest guy Connor knows. He’s just obviously had much bigger fish to fry in his life than learning what ear gauging is. 

They do some homework with MTV on in the background. Evan helps Connor figure out a few trig problems he has been stuck on and Connor is again reminded of just how fucking smart Evan is. 

He’s like. Genius smart. 

It’s kind of bullshit that technically speaking Connor has a higher class standing than him. Evan is way smarter than Connor. In basically every way. 

Connor just. He’s not even jealous. He’s clearly benefiting from Evan’s genius. He’s probably gonna manage at least an A- in trig despite never feeling like he knows what’s going on in that class. 

Evan is just. 

The best. 

“You look tired,” Evan says after a bit. He’s frowning. 

“Didn’t really sleep,” Connor says. Evan knows this. Connor already told him. 

“So sleep a little now.”

“Oh,” Connor says. He starts to get to his feet. 

“You don’t have to _leave,_ ” Evan says like Connor is being dumb. “Just. Nap here. I’ll do some work at the table.”

Connor nods awkwardly. “You sure? I can just go home.”

“Or you can just nap here so I know you’re not dealing with your mom.”

Connor sighs. 

Climbs into the bed. Under the covers. 

He’s a little uncomfortable in his jeans. 

“Do you mind if I… uh. Ditch my pants?” He feels his face heat up. 

“Dude no, those are probably a torture device,” Evan says rolling his eyes. 

Connor stands up. Unbuttons his jeans. Pulls them off. 

Evan’s watching. 

Connor weirdly worries that his legs look gross and spidery. 

But Evan’s cheeks go pink and he says, “So maybe this is st-stupid but… don’t those jeans make your boxers bunch?”

Connor laughs. “Nah. I mean. They might if they were tighter but.”

Evan swallows loudly and Connor _hears_ it. 

“Sometimes it’s kinda an awkward ball situation though.”

Evan laughs. “Ugh. Can’t do that. Nope. Don’t care how cool they make you look, I can’t deal with that.”

Connor smiles. “You think I look cool?”

“Uh, yeah dude. You’re like. Seriously cool.”

“Cool,” Connor says. 

He gets into bed and falls asleep fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "Don’t You Know Who I Think I Am?" by Fall Out Boy.


	42. What’s The Deal With My Brain?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bonfire on the beach brings some surprising revelations.

Zoe hates school on Thursday. 

Connor’s not there. Neither is Evan. 

“You think they have a suicide pact?” She hears in the halls. “That they both killed themselves.”

“Nah,” another voice offers. “Murph wouldn’t be here if her brother was dead. Shame though. That would be funny.”

Zoe isn’t super surprised when Sabrina shows up in front of her locker before third hour. “Connor’s not here.”

“He’s fine,” Zoe mutters. “Just being a pussy and skipping school.”

Sabrina frowns at her. “I can’t believe you,” Sabrina says. “You told me how scared you were when he-”

“If he didn’t want people making fun of him he wouldn’t have written the damn thing,” Zoe says quietly. 

Sabrina gives her a hard look. “Did you read it?”

Of course she read it. She read it at least ten times. It’s still up on the website. It’s on MySpace now too. People keep messaging her to say they’re sorry her brother’s dead. 

“No,” Zoe says as if she doesn’t care. She walks away. Blows Sabrina off. 

She read it so many times. She poured over it. Like it was something she had to memorize. _Zo should know I’m especially sorry for how I treated her. She never deserved any of it. I want her to be happy. She got it the worst and she deserves to have the best life after what I’ve done._

He’s sorry. 

He’s told her he was sorry. But he was sorry then too. 

He was sorry then. 

Zoe hates him. 

He was _sorry_ but when he got out of the hospital he went right back on the drugs. Went right back to being an asshole to her. 

She thinks about the hospital bed. Where she climbed in with him and hugged him and neither of them knew what to say. How small and frail and broken he looked. How a few weeks later it was like it never even happened because he was back to his old shitty self. 

Connor… he just never makes shit easy on her. He doesn’t even make hating him easy. 

Jared thinks the whole thing is hilarious. He’s laughing it up at lunch. Quoting passages from Connor’s note. 

She told everyone he has a tiny dick. 

She’s not sure but Zoe gets the feeling he knows how the note got online. He’s kind of tech-savvy. 

He sells her some shit after lunch. She’s stopped complaining about the prices because she knows what she would need to do if she wanted his discount. She's heard lots of rumors from other girls Jared sells too. Rumors about what happens if you piss him off too...

“Quitter’s not here today,” he says gleefully. 

Zoe frowns. “Stop calling him that. It’s so ancient it has its own retirement fund.”

Jared smiles. “Guess life hasn’t been quite so unbearable for him since he got cozy with Heidi _Herzberg’s_ nephew,” Jared says. Smiling bigger. “Must make it easier to _swim upstream_ when you’ve got another fag by your side.”

Zoe says nothing. Thinks about asking Jared if he would agree because his _dad_ is a fag. 

Doesn’t say a word. 

“Wonder how well he’d do if he didn’t have a life raft,” Jared muses. 

“Are we done here?” Zoe says. She doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about. 

Jared laughs. “It’s funny,” he says. “Your brother’s this emo piece of shit with his heart on his sleeve… and you are a heartless bitch.”

“Yeah,” Zoe mutters. “Funny.”

She’s pissed at Jared. He’s an asshole. He treated her like shit. He…

But if she stops talking to him, she’d need to find someone else to buy from. And that would take a lot of effort. It’s not like Jared’s the only dealer at school but he’s the one everyone goes to for their shit. 

“You’re lucky I even sell to you,” Jared says suddenly. “After what happened freshman year, I have more than enough reasons to never sell to a Murphy again.”

Zoe doesn’t know what he means. 

But then suddenly she does. 

The pills. 

Connor must have bought pills off of Jared so he could…

Kill himself. 

Fuck, Zoe’s an idiot. 

She can’t keep talking to Jared so she walks away. Walks past Connor’s locker. This school claims to be so elite and amazing but nobody ever seems to do anything about all of the graffiti on the lockers. Connor’s is just… it’s been hit so many times. 

_“Quitter.”_

_“FAG”_

_“Pussy”_

_“kill yourself”_

And those are just the ones Zoe can read at a glance. 

Fuck. 

She hates this. She hates it a lot. She should do something. Say something. She knows Connor cares about her though she doesn’t know _why_ anymore because she is awful to him. On purpose. Zoe is awful to him on purpose because she… 

Hates how he refuses to fit in. Hates how he insists on standing out. Why can’t he just be normal? 

She especially hates that he’s hanging out with Sabrina these days. Like he stole her too. Zoe can’t have anything without Connor putting his filthy paws all over it. It’s not fair. 

It’s not fair. 

Why can’t he just be fucking normal?

She can't say anything. She'd be a hypocrit if she even tried. 

* * *

Larry doesn’t know what to do and Cynthia has been no help at all. 

She just looked at him like he was an idiot when he tried to get her thoughts on what to do about the school. The note going public. The utter humiliation Connor is feeling. 

“I don’t know,” she just kept saying. 

“Should we be pulling him out of Harbor?” Larry pressed. “Is it even safe for him to be there?”

“They’re just kids, Larry. They’ll get bored eventually.”

But they _haven’t_ gotten bored of torturing Connor. The note is almost two years old and it’s still popping back up. Kids at school call him “Quitter.” Larry knows this is bad but he’s felt powerless to do anything. He doesn’t want to embarrass Connor more or make things worse. He doesn’t want to be known as a helicopter parent. 

But his kid nearly died so also Larry doesn’t really give a shit if people think he’s overprotective. 

He loves his son. He loves Connor and he will do anything to keep him safe. Reputation be damned. He’ll do anything. 

Cynthia however seems like she won’t do anything. She just keeps saying she doesn’t know what to do. Implying that Larry is overreacting. 

Larry ignores her. 

He calls Connor out of school for the remainder of the week. He has words with Greg Sanson about what kind of school he’s running that a kid’s suicide note has been distributed not once but twice. 

He threatens to sue. 

He’s not sure if he means it but he threatens it anyway. 

He meets Heidi for lunch on Thursday. She hugs him tightly when he joins her at the Chinese restaurant they both like. “How is he?” She asks immediately. 

Larry shakes his head. “Not good. God, Heidi, you should have seen him yesterday. He looked so… resigned.”

Heidi nods sadly. “I didn’t send Evan to school today,” she says then. “I figured… Connor could use someone to hang out with. And honestly, without Connor at school, I’m not sure Evan wouldn’t end up in a fight with someone.”

“Kid’s got a real mind for vigilante justice,” Larry says, almost smiling. 

Heidi smiles back. “Or a total lack of impulse control without Connor around.”

They laugh awkwardly. Larry’s kid is a drug addict with documented anger issues, and yet he’s the one who keeps _Evan_ calm and cool-headed. 

The world is funny like that sometimes. 

Larry sobers quickly. “I… I don’t know what my best move here is,” he confesses. “Part of me wants to nail Greg Sanson to the wall for letting this happen and pull Connor out immediately, but… I’m worried that will just make things worse.”

Heidi nods sympathetically. 

“And I know it sounds elitist and bullshit, but the only reason we even sent Connor back to Harbor was because it’s the best school around. We’d have had to make him commute forty minutes to Pacific for anything even remotely comparable. Or send him off again which…”

Well. They both know how much Connor doesn’t want to be sent to another out of state boarding school. 

“Larry I’m sorry…”

“I’m scared to pull him out and I’m scared to let him stay there,” Larry admits. “He’s been trying so hard and doing so well lately. Not even a blip of misbehavior since December… but what if this wrecks that for him? What if… he could try again.”

Heidi frowns. 

“I didn’t want to go into work this morning because I’m terrified he’ll try again.”

“Cynthia’s home with him,” Heidi says tentatively. 

“Cynthia’s… I’m not saying I don’t trust her with our son but…”

But he doesn’t trust her with their son. He doesn’t. He hasn’t, not since the kids’ birthdays. He can’t. Nothing she has done since coming home from rehab has reassured him that she’s trying. 

Heidi understands. She always seems to understand. 

“I’m so scared for him. All of the time. And he just won’t… I feel like he’s hiding something but… I don’t even know what it could be. I’ve searched his room for drugs. It’s not that. I don’t think he’s got a secret boyfriend. I almost broke into his computer last night and… I know that is over the line. I know I’m invading his privacy, I know I’m behaving like a crazy person but… I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something I don’t know. And I would rather he hate me for being a hardass than lose him.”

* * *

On Friday night, Connor goes home for dinner. He kind of gets the feeling his parents are avoiding him. He stayed over at Heidi’s last night. He and Evan stayed in the pool house. Stayed up too late watching music videos because Connor couldn’t sleep. 

Evan’s good like that. 

But he goes home for dinner on Friday night. He’s not sure why. He guesses he’s kind of waiting for a judgment to be handed down from his parents about what happens next. 

Instead, he gets a dinner of fajitas that he can hardly eat and utter quiet. 

It’s so damn quiet. Nobody talks. 

Zoe looks tired at dinner. He bets school hasn’t been fun for her, but she’s not really volunteering anything. 

She went out last night. On a school night. 

… That was why Connor couldn’t sleep. 

He saw her car pull out from the backyard. And he kept anxiously checking. Waiting. Waiting for her to come home. 

Evan noticed. 

“What’s going on?”

“Zoe went out,” Connor tried to explain. He picked at the sleeves of his hoodie. “And she’s not back.”

Something settled hard on Evan’s face. “Do you always wait up for her?”

Connor chewed his lip. “Since your date… when she came home all fucked up.” He had shrugged. Chewed his lip more. “I just. I don’t know what she’s doing but… but I’m worried.”

Evan had shook his head. “I don’t understand. She wouldn’t do this for you.”

Connor knows. 

He knows.

But he can’t stop himself worrying. So he stays up. 

Evan waited up with him until Zoe got home just after two in the morning. They smoked a couple of cigarettes sitting out on lawn chairs until they heard her come home. 

And then Evan had tugged Connor back to the pool house by his sleeve. Practically tucked him into bed. Turned on his side. 

Connor turned too. To look at him. 

“You have… a really big heart,” Evan told him. 

And Connor didn’t know what to make of it. But he was so tired he fell asleep before he could ask him to explain. 

And now Zoe’s quiet at dinner. And so are his parents. 

And Connor’s eye is twitching and his jaw aches from trying to force down food. He feels the loneliest he’s felt in days at home with his family. 

He can’t keep his dinner down. 

He keeps thinking about the baggie of drugs Zoe had flashed him a couple of weeks back. Wonders what she might be taking. Keeps wondering where she keeps her stash. If it’s in her room. If he could find it easily. Take it. 

If he could get high without anybody noticing. 

He _probably_ could. 

He probably _could_. 

So when Evan texts him asking if he wants to stay at the beach house for the weekend, Connor immediately jumps on it. Asks his dad right there in the middle of dinner. 

His dad sighs. Nods. “Yeah that’s fine. Just. Make sure you do your homework.”

Connor is so relieved that when he picks Evan up about an hour later, he hugs him over the gear shift. Evan seems surprised but hugs him back anyway. 

“You okay?” Evan asks him. 

Connor shakes his head. “No.” 

Evan nods. And Connor drives them off to the beach house. They open up the windows to air it out and then settle on the squashy sofa and watch old movies. David’s favorites. 

Connor falls asleep in the middle of _The Wizard of Oz._

The last thing he remembers is them falling asleep in the poppy field and him sleepily mumbling to Evan, his head on Evan’s shoulder, that heroin comes from poppies. 

He wakes up to the DVD home screen. Evan is asleep too. His arms are around Evan’s middle. 

There’s a blanket over them where there wasn’t before. Connor gets up and switches off the television. 

He knows he ought to wake Evan up. Tell him they should go to sleep. 

But he’s too tired. 

So instead he crawls back under the blanket on the sofa. Evan shifts in his sleep, wraps his arms around Connor and rests his head on Connor’s chest. 

He’s so warm. 

And Connor has been… just so fucking lonely. 

So he doesn’t move. And drifts off. 

* * *

They get to spend the weekend at the beach house. 

Connor and Evan. 

Heidi’s going to be working on and off, so mostly it’ll just be Connor and Evan. 

Evan kind of can’t believe that Mr. Murphy is so chill with Connor spending the weekend with him. He’s been really nice to Evan recently. Not that he was ever a dick to him, but…

He told him to call him Larry. 

Evan is absolutely not going to do that. 

Not yet, anyway. He might get used to it eventually, though. 

Connor’s dad just seems super worried about Connor. Wants to make things okay for Connor, and wants to let Evan help. 

He’s so glad he gets to help. He’d be going fucking crazy if he couldn’t. 

On Saturday afternoon, Heidi calls to say she’s been swept up with something and she doesn’t know when she’ll be home, but that there’s plenty of food and she’ll pick up anything else they want on her way back. 

Evan asks her to pick up some more blueberries. 

They’re running out. 

Connor’s not really eating much else, but at least he’s eating some fucking blueberries. 

He’s on edge today. Exhausted, worn out, down to the bone tired, but also anxious, skittish, like he’s crawling out of his skin. The last few days he’s mostly been tired, drained by all of it, but now he’s kind of… jittery. 

Evan wishes he knew how to calm him down. 

When he tells Connor that, Connor just looks at him and gives this sad smile. “This helps,” he says quietly. “Being here with you… it helps.”

Evan gets a phone call around five from Alana. 

“How is Connor doing?” Alana asks immediately.

“About as well as can be expected,” Evan replies helplessly. “He’s… pretty anxious. We’re going back to school on Monday, and…”

Alana’s quiet for a moment. “Are his parents and your aunt still hovering?”

“We’re actually at Heidi’s beach house,” Evan tells her. “Just me and Connor. Heidi’s working, so it’s just us.”

“Okay,” says Alana, her tone matter of fact. “Sabrina and I will be there in an hour. We just need to get supplies.”

Evan blinks. “Can I check with him first? To make sure he’s okay with seeing you guys?”

Alana’s quiet for a moment. “We don’t have to stay,” she says, sounding a little hurt. “But tell him we are going to get _supplies_. Like we did when we hung out at my beach house with Reg. Okay?”

“Why do you keep saying supplies like that?”

Alana lets out an exasperated sigh. “I am _trying_ to be subtle,” she says irritably. “Tell him we are getting _supplies_ off Eric. He’ll know what I mean.” 

Evan has absolutely no idea what she’s talking about but agrees. He goes back to sit next to Connor on the beach and relays Alana’s message. 

“Alana said to tell you she and Sabrina are getting _supplies_ off Eric,” he says, a little hesitantly. “Like at the beach house with Reg. I have no idea what she’s talking about, but she says you will.”

Connor blinks slowly. Looks at Evan. “She’s getting weed.” His eyes widen. “She’s getting _weed_?”

Evan was not expecting that. “Wait, really?”

“She cannot be bringing weed here,” Connor says, pulling out his phone. “You cannot be caught with weed, you’re on probation-”

Evan grabs Connor’s hand quickly, without thinking much of it. Connor looks at him, his expression confused. “I’m not going to do any,” he tells him quietly. “But maybe it’ll help. You said that weed helps you feel less… less everything, and right now? Maybe it’ll help.”

Connor shakes his head. “I’m not risking you-”

“We’re on a private beach,” Evan points out. He bites his lip, trying to figure out how to say this kindly. “And, like… weed isn’t… a thing for you? It’s not…” He blinks. Tries to figure out how to be gentle. “It might take the edge off. With all the shit that’s happened, it would be totally normal if you wanted something stronger right now.”

Connor’s face drains of all color. 

Evan can see that his hands are shaking a little. 

“Yeah,” Connor mumbles. “Yeah, some fucking coke sounds excellent right about now.”

“Yeah,” Evan says, his heart sinking a little that he’s not wrong here. “Yeah, I get that. I mean, I don’t get that, but I… it makes sense. And if weed is gonna make things a little bit easier on you, then I’m willing to take the risk.” Connor glares at him. “The very small risk that someone’s going to come onto this private property in this fancy neighborhood and bust a bunch of rich teenagers for smoking pot.”

Connor is still glaring. 

Still looks like he wants to argue. 

Sighs. 

“Call Alana back,” he says quietly. “Tell her to make sure she’s got _all_ the supplies this time, okay? I’m out of cigarettes.”

Evan’s a little relieved. “Okay. I can do that.”

* * *

Evan calls Alana back. He is a good fucking friend. Connor really adores this kid. 

But his hands still haven’t stopped shaking, and… Evan fucking called him on why. 

Connor knows he’s supposed to be ashamed of himself. If he subscribed to the shit they preached in NA, he’d be praying to a higher power and calling a sponsor right now. 

He doesn’t have a sponsor. He briefly had one in New Hampshire named Amanda but he stopped checking in with her after M told Connor all about how 12 Step Programs have notoriously high relapse rates. 

Annoyingly, Miguel _is_ right about that. 

Connor doesn’t do the whole NA thing anymore. Most of the time he feels pretty fucking good about not doing drugs. It doesn’t mean he never thinks about it. Liam offering Connor oxy in D.C. was a close fucking call. Most of the time, though, he’s happier not being high. Happier might be a relative term. Connor just… doesn’t like who he was when he was high all the time. Doesn’t like who he _is_ when he wants drugs. 

But he’d be lying if he said he’s not thinking about it now. If he said he hadn’t considered knocking on Zoe’s door last night and asking her what she’s hiding in her bedroom. 

Connor guesses she’s probably into coke. Probably a little oxy too. 

Honestly, he was more of a fan of opioids, generally, but when he gets like this he finds himself thinking that some cocaine would be fucking great. Take off on a rocket to getting properly fucked up. 

Oxy is for chilling the fuck out. Coke is for getting fucked up and forgetting who you are. 

He would really love to be able to do that today. 

He’s still fucking jittery though. Fiddling with his sleeves. Messing with his keys. 

Evan reaches out and squeezes one of Connor’s shaking hands. 

Connor stares at him. 

“I… you can just tell me to leave,” he says. “This is stupid. You could get in trouble. I’ll just go, I’m freaking you out-”

Evan looks at him. He looks sad. “You should stay.”

Connor frowns. “I’m freaking you out,” he says. His knee keeps bouncing. He’s going to crawl out of his skin if he doesn’t do _something_ soon. 

“What freaks me out is the idea of you leaving and getting high alone,” Evan says. He’s not a dick about it. Just honest. 

Connor feels his shoulders slump. “I’m sorry,” he says. “You shouldn’t have to see this.”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” Evan says nonchalantly. 

Connor blinks at him. “What?”

Evan shrugs. “One of the foster families I got put with. The mom? Janet. She had a coke problem. Part of why I had to move out.” He shrugs again. Doesn’t let go of Connor’s hand. 

“I didn’t know that,” Connor says. 

Evan shrugs. “Janet was really nice but a bit… manic sometimes? She was always drinking like a pot of coffee at breakfast and at lunch. She tried really hard to stay clean… and most people thought she just. Really loved coffee?”

Connor gives Evan a lopsided smile. “Seriously?”

Evan laughs. “I never said those people were _smart._ ”

“And here I thought it was just me and my teenage angst bullshit who had coke problems,” Connor mutters. 

“Janet was 45 and a corporate accountant for an insurance company. I don’t think there’s, l-like, an _age limit._ ”

Connor realizes that Evan’s still holding his hand. He pulls his away. Tells himself to stop being fucking weird. 

“You’re doing well, you know,” Evan says. “Like I know it’s not the same. Me having lived with a lady who did a bunch of coke once. But you admitted that’s where you are and…”

“The first step is admitting you have a problem?” Connor says, a slight edge to his voice. 

“I meant more like. You told me you were thinking about it instead of just. You know. Doing it?” He shrugs. “We live in Newport. We both know how easy it would be to score coke if you really wanted to do it.”

Evan has a point. 

Annoyingly. 

Connor just. Loves him. For being kind about this. 

“Okay,” Evan says like he’s settled something for himself. “I think we should have a bonfire. It’s gonna get dark soon and a bonfire is a good cover for the smell.”

Connor eyes him. “Ten minutes ago you said you weren’t gonna _‘do’_ weed, and now you’re an expert in covering the smell?”

Evan’s cheeks blush. “Ethan smoked a lot. I…”

Connor shakes his head. “You don’t need to explain. I’m being an asshole.”

Evan smiles a little. “Not really. I know y-you don’t like. M-mean it.” 

They head out to the beach. Start gathering up some driftwood and some logs that are piled by the side of the beach house. Evan, despite living in cities his whole life, knows a surprising amount about how to properly build a fire. 

He smiles shyly at Connor. “I went to this su-summer program when I was, like, thirteen. For underprivileged kids? I was k-kinda shocked my dad let me go but I guess it got me out of his hair for a few weeks. They did a lot of like. Outdoor survival stuff.”

“That’s cool,” Connor says. “I don’t know anything about this shit. Frankly, it’s just embarrassing. I was a fucking _Boy Scout_.”

“You have _no_ idea how badly I wanted to be a Boy Scout,” says Evan, wearing an unhappy little frown. “It seemed so cool? Some of the kids at school were Cub Scouts, but Mom couldn’t afford it and it wasn’t an option after she…” Evan clears his throat. Looks at the pile of wood. “By the time I was old enough for Scouts I was with my dad and there was just no way-”

“Hey guys!” Connor practically yells, cutting Evan off. Alana and Sabrina are walking toward them and Connor’s not about to let Evan blow his cover just because he feels sorry for Connor for being a sad sack drug addict who tried to kill himself. 

“H-hi,” Evan says and he looks super guilty. Connor wishes he didn’t apparently trigger Evan’s honesty button. “I-I-I didn’t hear you guys coming, I-”

But then Alana starts talking about bonfire construction and all seems forgotten. 

* * *

Sabrina’s never been to Evan’s aunt’s beach house. Neither has Alana, but she knows where it is, she assures Sabrina. 

They pull up and see Connor’s car. Clearly they’re in the right place. 

Sabrina braces herself. She’s… nervous, she realizes. She doesn’t feel like she belongs here. Sure, Alana and Evan and Connor have been there for her since she came out and they all eat lunch together now and look out for each other in the hellscape that is high school, but…

They haven’t really been friends long enough for Sabrina to feel like she should be here. Like she can offer Connor any kind of support, any kind of comfort. 

Up until, like, a month ago, Sabrina was fucking Connor’s sister. 

And Connor’s totally seen Sabrina naked because he _walked in on them_. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, what is she even doing here, fuck?

“You’re freaking out.”

Sabrina looks at Alana. “Well, yeah,” she says, a little helplessly. “I don’t know what to do. Or say. I don’t even really know Connor all that well.”

Alana nods. “Me either,” she says, matter-of-factly. “But what I know, I like.” Her face falls. “And after everything he’s gone through, he deserves to know he’s not alone.”

Sabrina looks at Alana. “I just don’t understand how people can read that note and think that it’s something to make fun of,” she confesses. “I hear people talking about how pathetic it is and how he’s such a loser and how it was obvious because he’s such an emo or whatever but…” She feels her eyes start to sting. “How can you read that and not be fucking devastated?” 

Alana’s eyes are glassy. She swallows hard. “I know,” she says quietly. “I know what you mean.” She clears her throat, blinks a few times then looks at Sabrina. “Okay. Let’s go.”

They grab a bag each. Alana insisted on going to the supermarket after stopping by Eric’s, claiming that she always gets hungry when she’s high. Sabrina manages to stop Alana from just buying junk food, though, and picks up a couple of punnets of blueberries along with some almonds and some unbuttered popcorn. 

Alana had asked her if she was still on a diet. Sabrina had told her that it might be helpful for Connor to have some healthier options on hand. She’d seemed confused at that, so Sabrina had gently reminded her to think back to them eating lunch together. To the kind of things that Connor would eat. Alana’s cheeks had gone dark and she’d gone into a rant about body image issues and masculinity and Sabrina had just… let her talk for a while, then told her that Connor was doing the best that he could, but he was better with food that had some kind of nutritional value. 

“Evan always has those facts,” Sabrina had said. “About the good things in food? Vitamins and stuff. He’s always talking about the health benefits. I think he does it to help Connor eat.”

“I just thought he liked facts,” Alana had replied then, the blush more obvious on her dark skin. 

“It’s probably a bit of both.”

They head around the side of the house to see Evan and Connor. There’s a pile of driftwood in front of them and they’re clearly trying to put together a bonfire. 

It doesn’t look bad, actually. 

Sabrina can hear them speaking as they get closer. 

“... was a fucking _Boy Scout_.”

“You have _no_ idea how badly I wanted to be a Boy Scout,” says Evan wistfully. “It seemed so cool? Some of the kids at school were Cub Scouts, but Mom couldn’t afford it and it wasn’t an option after she…” Evan clears his throat. “By the time I was old enough for Scouts I was with my dad and there was just no way-”

“Hey guys!” Connor interrupts, his eyes wide, looking a little panicked as he sees them approach. Evan turns and looks equally panicked. Sabrina looks at Alana, whose eyes are narrowed a bit, like she’s confused about something, but then the frown fades and she smiles, all bright white teeth. 

Alana is very pretty, Sabrina notices yet again. 

Why couldn’t she be gay for Alana? Why does it have to be Zoe?

“H-hi,” says Evan, his face pale, like he’s been caught out. “I-I-I didn’t hear you guys coming, I-”

“You’ve put together a good base structure,” Alana says, kneeling down and looking at the bonfire. “This should work well.” She looks at Evan. “You’ve done this before.”

Evan smiles and launches into a story about a summer program where he learned about outdoor survival skills when he was in his early teens. It stops and starts a bit and Alana asks a lot of questions, but Sabrina’s not really paying attention. 

She’s focused on Connor, whose face is pale and looks so sad. 

“How are you holding up?” Sabrina asks quietly. 

Connor’s hands are shaking a little, she notices. He shrugs. “I’m…” He shrugs again. Tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. Offers her a tiny smile. “Thanks for coming? It’s, uh… it’s decent of you and Alana to… yeah.”

“We’re friends,” Sabrina says, a little cautiously. “Right?”

Connor’s smile widens. “Yeah,” he says, nodding. “We’re friends.”

Sabrina finds herself smiling back. “I never thanked you properly,” she says after a moment. “For having my back after I came out.” She feels her cheeks color. “I wasn’t… expecting you to?”

Connor’s eyes widen. He looks almost hurt. “Christ, do I seem like _that_ much of an asshole?”

“No!” Sabrina rushes to say. “No, god no, I just…” She sighs. Shrugs helplessly. “You, like, walked on me and your sister, and Zoe’s been kind of… kind of awful to you?”

Connor’s face falls. Shuts down. He leans forward, letting his hair fall over his face. “Yeah, well, Zoe being a bitch to me has nothing to do with you.”

An awkward moment passes. 

Then Connor’s head snaps up. He looks at Sabrina, something almost angry in his expression. “You didn’t… it wasn’t because I saw you guys, right?”

Sabrina doesn’t follow. “What?”

Connor lets out this exasperated sigh. “You didn’t make that post because you thought that _I’d_ out you and Zoe?”

Sabrina feels her heart sink. “No!” she almost yells. “No, of course I didn’t, I…” She blinks. Her eyes sting. “I just couldn’t keep lying. I couldn’t… I was so tired of lying.”

Alana and Evan seem to have finished their conversation. Evan’s staring at her, his eyes wide. Connor shoots him a look that Sabrina can’t read. 

She has no idea what that means. 

No idea at all. 

Alana takes charge, as Alana does. She lights the bonfire, then puts out a picnic blanket and arranges the wide array of snacks she’s purchased. Evan smiles when he sees the blueberries. Looks at Sabrina and gives this tiny smile. 

“Okay,” says Alana, her voice matter-of-fact. She looks at Connor. “You said to make sure I was prepared this time, but I wasn’t sure what you preferred so I spoke with Eric and obtained a range of drug paraphernalia.”

Evan’s eyebrows hit his hairline. 

“Oh my god,” Connor mutters. Take the bag off Alana and rifles through. “I just meant get some rolling papers, this is overkill.”

“This bong,” Alana says defensively, “was produced in a women-owned and operated glass blowing business.” 

Connor nods. “Right on.”

“And,” Alana continues, clearly encouraged, “I bought it from a feminist bookstore.” 

Evan looks at Sabrina, like he’s trying to figure out if she’s serious. She nods. “It was a pretty cool bookstore.”

“I’m still rolling a joint, though,” Connor says, sounding a little exasperated. “It’ll be easier to hide if we need to.”

Alana nods. “Right.” She pulls a baggie of weed out of her pocket. Hands it to Connor. “You can do the honors.”

Once Connor’s got a joint made, they pass it around. Connor’s not passing it to Evan, Sabrina notices, and when she asks, Evan mumbles something about having had a bad trip in freshman year. 

“Me too,” Sabrina confesses. “But this weed’s from Eric, and Alana’s friend Reggie says he’s trustworthy, so… if you want, I think you can risk it.” She smiles as encouragingly as she can. “Not to peer pressure you or whatever, just… I had the same reservations, but Eric’s stuff is good. No surprises, just a nice mellow high.”

Evan shakes his head. Connor does, too. 

Alana clearly notices. She looks between them with interest but thankfully says nothing. 

After a few hits, Alana’s definitely in a talkative mood. “It’s cool that I have queer friends now,” she says, a little dreamily. “I mean, I’ve always had Reg, but, like… all the other lesbians at school think I’m way too intense.”

Evan looks surprised. “There are other lesbians at school?”

Sabrina shrugs. “Apparently.”

Connor gives this slow smile that painfully reminds Sabrina of Zoe. “Alana’s just bummed out that they didn’t, like, crown her their queen. As they should have, because Alana’s awesome.” His eyes widen. He goes to stand up. “I should get some more sticks. I can make you a crown.”

“Sit down,” says Evan with a laugh, grabbing Connor’s arm and pulling him back to the ground. He topples a little and falls onto Evan’s lap, laughing. Evan’s face goes bright red, but he doesn’t push Connor away. 

Interesting. 

Maybe there is truth to the rumors after all. 

Zoe would be so pissed if she saw this, Sabrina thinks to herself. 

Not that she should be thinking about Zoe right now. Fuck her. 

“I just like having queer friends,” Alana continues. “And I guess Evan here can be our token straight boy.” She takes a handful of pretzel sticks then tilts her head thoughtfully. “Not that it’s a binary of gay and straight. Sexuality is a spectrum.”

Evan looks confused. “It is?”

“Of course it is,” she says, matter-of-factly, like everyone should know this. “You’re not just gay or straight, you can fall somewhere in the middle.”

“You mean like bisexuality?” Sabrina asks, weirdly interested. She takes the joint off Connor and takes a hit. “I always thought that was kind of… I don’t know, not a real thing?”

Alana’s eyes narrow. She points the pretzel stick at Sabrina. “That is incredibly damaging,” she says. “Bisexuality is absolutely valid, people are totally bisexual.”

Evan’s eyes go huge. It looks like he wants to ask a question, but he doesn’t. 

Connor’s looking at him, this confused expression on his face. After a moment, he looks back to Alana. 

“My ex was kinda weird about it,” he says, in this deliberately casual tone. He’s pointedly not looking at Evan. “Sometimes he’d be like ‘well, everyone’s a little bit bi’. Other times he’d kind of be like… he’d talk about bisexuality as an excuse to, like, escape people being assholes about guys who like guys?” 

Evan shuffles a little bit so Connor’s not in his lap anymore. “If everyone’s a little bit bi,” he says, in a similarly fake casual tone, “then have you ever kissed a girl?”

Connor’s cheeks go pink. “Yeah,” he says, matter-of-factly. He takes the joint off Sabrina almost immediately. 

“Who did you kiss?” Sabrina demands. 

Connor’s cheeks go even redder. “I honestly could not tell you,” he admits. “Couldn’t pick them out of a line up to save my life.”

“Them?” Evan says, his voice kind of… weird and too high. “As in, _multiple_ girls?”

Connor shrugs. He’s practically a tomato by now. “I partied a lot,” he mumbles. “Wanted people to like me, and… I don’t know, it wasn’t like, the worst thing in the world.” He takes another hit. “I’m not one of those gay guys who, like, gags at the idea of kissing a girl, that’s… fucking problematic and its own kind of misogyny.”

“Right,” says Evan, and his cheeks are pink, too, and Alana just raises her eyebrows at Sabrina. 

It looks like Alana’s about to say something, but then Heidi Herzberg is sitting next to them, crossing her legs in jeans and taking the joint off Connor. 

All four of them just stare as Evan’s aunt takes a hit, then passes the joint back to Connor. 

“So,” says Heidi brightly. “We’re talking about bisexuality?”

* * *

Heidi feels bad that she’s stuck at work so long on Saturday, especially given everything that’s happened with Connor. At the same time, though, she thinks it’s probably good for Evan and Connor to have some time to themselves without an adult hovering over them. 

She thinks back to what Larry said about not wanting to be a helicopter parent. 

That’s one thing she is definitely not, that's for sure. She worries, sure, but she trusts Evan and Connor to stay out of trouble these days. 

Trusts that they understand the consequences of getting in trouble. 

Fuck, she really hopes that Larry doesn’t pull Connor out of Harbor. It’ll just make things so much harder for Evan if he does, and he doesn’t deserve it being harder. 

It won’t be great for Connor, either. 

Maybe they could both go to Pacific. Sure, there’s a commute, but it’s the only place that rivals Harbor academically that’s anywhere near here. 

But she doesn’t know anyone at Pacific. She can’t guarantee she’d get Evan in. And switching schools this far into the school year isn’t a great move. 

If Evan asks, she’ll look into it further. 

That’s a fair response, right? 

When she gets back to the beach house, there’s a car she doesn’t recognize. She’s confused for a moment, then remembers that Evan had texted her, asking if Sabrina Patel and Alana Beck could join them at the beach house that evening. 

Of course Heidi said yes. 

She’s not immune to local gossip. She’s heard about Lisa Patel’s daughter coming out as a lesbian. The Newport moms had plenty to say about that. There’d been some particularly ugly drama between Lisa and Cynthia, where Lisa tried to claim that Cynthia putting Connor in as a last-minute escort for cotillion is what turned Sabrina gay. 

It’s a stretch. Everyone knows it’s a stretch. 

No one’s really buying it, but Lisa’s sure as hell giving it her all. Throwing everything she’s got at discrediting Cynthia’s parenting. Reminding people about her behavior at cotillion. 

Which is mostly why Heidi knows about all of this. Lisa keeps trying to drag her in. 

These women need fucking jobs. They have too much spare time on their hands and it makes them _insane._

She can see that they’ve put together a bonfire. Smell it.

It takes a moment, but as she gets closer, she realizes she can smell something else as well. It’s subtle, and she wouldn’t have even noticed if it weren’t for the fact that she spent a decent chunk of her teenage years smoking a hell of a lot of weed. 

Part of her wants to go over there and yell at Evan for being an idiot, but something makes her hold back. 

She watches them for a while and sees that as they’re passing the joint around, Evan’s not partaking. Connor’s sitting close to Evan, so close he’s practically on his lap, and he seems… more relaxed than he has been. 

And. 

Well. 

Heidi’s not interested in being a hypocrite. It’s just pot, and a lot of the kids in Newport are on a hell of a lot worse. 

It’s better than Connor being on something else. 

As she approaches, she hears Evan talking. 

“If everyone’s a little bit bi, then have you ever kissed a girl?”

“Yeah,” Connor replies. He takes the joint off Sabrina. 

Sabrina seems surprised by this. “Who did you kiss?” 

Connor looks more than a little embarrassed. “I honestly could not tell you. Couldn’t pick them out of a line up to save my life.”

Heidi notes that Evan seems a little taken aback by this information. “Them? As in, _multiple_ girls?”

“I partied a lot,” says Connor quietly. “Wanted people to like me, and… I don’t know, it wasn’t like, the worst thing in the world.” He takes another hit from the joint then continues. “I’m not one of those gay guys who, like, gags at the idea of kissing a girl, that’s… fucking problematic and its own kind of misogyny.”

Kid’s got a point, Heidi thinks to herself. It’s a shame he didn’t meet Laurel during the D.C. trip. She’d be all over this conversation. 

That’s enough eavesdropping, she decides. 

Time to freak these kids out a little. 

Before she can talk herself out of it, she sits down next to Connor and Evan and takes the joint. Takes a hit, then gives it back. 

It’s been a long time since she smoked weed. She’s pleased with herself that she doesn’t seem to have lost the knack. No coughing at all. 

“So,” she says, looking around at these four stunned teenagers. “We’re talking about bisexuality?”

Evan, in particular, looks completely thrown. 

He’s shooting her this look that practically screams ‘stop embarrassing me’, which Heidi has to admit, she is completely here for. 

Alana Beck looks straight at her. “What’s your take on bisexuality, Ms. Herzberg?”

No one can ever accuse Alana Beck of being a shrinking violet, that’s for sure. 

Heidi looks at Connor and reaches out. Connor’s cheeks are pink but he seems to realize what she’s after and hands her the joint. “I think it’s a useful term for some people, but that not everyone feels comfortable with it for them.”

Alana and Sabrina both look completely confused, like they have no idea what’s happening. Evan looks at both of them. “Heidi’s best friend is a lesbian.”

It’s useful context, probably. 

Heidi takes another hit, enjoying the once-familiar feeling. It really has been a long time since she’s gotten stoned. 

It’s kind of nice, actually. 

She hands the joint to Alana, then looks at Evan. 

“None for you,” she reminds him. “You hear me?”

“I hear you,” he says, looking at her significantly. Beside him, Connor’s nodding.

At least they understand what’s at risk here, Heidi thinks. And sure, it’s a stupid risk for anyone to have weed, but if it’s going to stop Connor from going off and doing something even more stupid, then she’s cool with it. 

This is private property, after all. There’s a bonfire to cover the smell. 

She got up to way worse when she was their age. 

They’re good kids. Smart and sensible. A little weed isn’t going to hurt them.

* * *

Heidi’s loving this, Evan can tell immediately. Just, like, legit loving the fact that they’re all freaking out. 

Oh my god, she’s so embarrassing. 

That’s… a weird thought. He’s literally never had that thought about a parent or guardian before. 

Even weirder is that he likes it. Likes that Heidi is being embarrassing like this. 

It’s… super endearing. 

“What’s your take on bisexuality, Ms. Herzberg?” asks Alana in this prim, formal tone, like she’s trying to hide the fact that everyone here but Evan is stoned. 

“I think it’s a useful term for some people,” she says conversationally, gesturing for Connor to give her the joint back, “but that not everyone feels comfortable with it for them.”

“Heidi’s best friend is a lesbian,” Evan says, trying to provide some kind of context for Alana and Sabrina, both of whom look like they can’t quite believe this conversation is happening. 

Heidi takes a hit, then hands the joint to Alana. She looks at Evan. “None for you,” she says, her tone firm. “You hear me?”

“I hear you,” says Evan, looking her right in the eye, trying to communicate without saying it out loud that he knows exactly why he can’t be getting high. 

He’s on probation. He gets randomly drug tested. 

He won’t risk it. 

“I never really thought about the term bisexual,” Sabrina says. She’s frowning a little. “Like, I liked Michael Paterson fine when I was dating him? He was nice to me and it was, like, everything you could have asked for in your first time, you know? He made sure it didn’t hurt and checked in to make sure I was okay and it was…” She trails off, like she’s suddenly realizing she’s talking about fucking Michael Paterson in front of Heidi. “Fuck, sorry, sorry Heidi.”

“I was sixteen once,” Heidi says with a laugh. “And from the sounds of it, my guy wasn’t nearly as considerate as Michael Paterson.”

Gross. Evan does not want to think about his mom having sex. 

About Heidi having sex. 

Fuck, maybe he is getting kind of a contact high. 

“I don’t feel like bisexual is right for me, though?” Sabrina continues, looking like she’s really thinking about it. “It was fine, it felt okay, but it wasn’t, like… I didn’t go ‘oh shit I’m gay’ that very second but it did kind of… answer some questions for me.” Her face turns bright red. “It was totally different from when I was… with a girl.”

Evan blinks. 

Did Sabrina and Alana…

“For me personally, the idea of doing anything with a guy just kind of weirds me out,” Alana says, her tone matter-of-fact. “No offense. It’s just… penises are so goddamn weird.”

Heidi lets out this delighted laugh. “You are _absolutely right,_ Alana, penises _are_ goddamn weird.” She takes the joint from Alana and has another hit. “Sabrina, I think you should go with whatever makes you feel comfortable, sweetheart.”

Sabrina nods. “I think I’m comfortable with lesbian.”

“Then there you go,” says Heidi, like it’s that easy. “You’re the only one who gets to decide that.” She nods. 

She’s definitely more than a little stoned. Which is probably why what she says completely throws Evan. 

“David didn’t like labels.”

Connor turns his head around quickly to stare at her, eyes wide. “What?”

“David didn’t like labels,” Heidi repeats with a shrug. “If he _had_ to pick one, he said he might go with bisexual, but it was less about that and more about… who he loved.” She leans over and helps herself to a handful of blueberries. Pops one in her mouth, chews thoughtfully, then continues. “He dated this guy Steve in college for two years. Steve’s a nice guy. He emails me every couple of weeks, just to check in.”

What. 

What the fuck, what?

Everyone keeps talking about how David was this great guy, how much he loved Heidi, how he was Connor’s mom’s high school boyfriend, they never…

They never said he liked guys. 

This just… 

It doesn’t make any damn sense. He loved Heidi. Everyone says how much he loved Heidi. She talks about how much they loved each other, she…

“Your husband dated a man?” Sabrina asks, her eyes wide. “Really?”

Heidi nods. Screws up her nose. “Wow, I do _not_ have a tolerance for pot anymore,” she says conversationally. She looks at Alana and Sabrina. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t share this with your families. Or anyone, for that matter. He didn’t exactly…” She sighs. “He wasn’t ashamed of it. Not really? But he knew what people around here were like. Didn’t want people comparing him to fucking Jerry Kleinman.”

Sabrina’s eyes widen. “Wait, Jared’s dad is gay?” 

“Oh yeah,” says Alana, who has the joint back. She takes a hit and passes it to Connor. “No one talks about it, but… he’s super gay.”

“Super gay?” Connor repeats, laughing a little. “Like, what, there are levels of gayness?”

“It’s like the belt system in martial arts,” says Heidi immediately. “You gotta train hard until you get your black belt in gay.”

Everyone bursts into hysterical giggles, except Evan because he’s the only one who’s not high, and he’s still kind of stuck on the fact that Heidi’s late husband had a boyfriend and Heidi is completely unbothered by this fact. 

Just. 

What?

“Did you worry?” Evan asks Heidi once the laughter dies down. “That David would… that he’d miss being with a man? Or, like… that maybe he’d change his mind and, like, decide he was properly gay?”

Heidi looks at him. Her whole face softens. “I mean, yeah,” she admits with a shrug. “At first. I didn’t get it? I worried that I wouldn’t be enough for him, that he’d…” She blinks. Looks sad for a moment. “That I couldn’t give him what he needed.” She smiles again. “But I loved him more than I could possibly explain, and I know he loved me. He showed me how much he loved me every day.” Something haunted crosses over her face. “I still know. Even now, I still know he loves me.”

Evan stupidly wants to cry at that. 

It’s not fair. 

It’s not fair at all. 

Looking around, he can see that the others are a little misty-eyed as well. Maybe it’s not just him, then. 

“He loved you so much,” Connor says suddenly. His nose is a little pink in the light of the bonfire. “Whenever you walked into a room he’d just smile so big? Like it was the best thing to ever happen.” He takes a hit, then passes what’s left of the joint to Sabrina. “When I was a kid, I remember thinking that that was what _I_ wanted, you know? Someone to smile at _me_ like that, like just _seeing_ me was the most amazing thing.”

Heidi’s eyes fill with tears. “Yeah?”

Connor nods emphatically. “Yeah. He loved you so fucking much.”

Heidi leans over and rests her head on Connor’s shoulder for a moment. “Thank you, sweetheart,” she says, sniffing a little. “That means a lot.” A moment later, she rights herself. Blinks. “Okay, I’m exhausted,” she announces. “It has been a long day and weed makes me sleepy.” She stands up and smiles at all of them. “Alana, your parents’ place is like a ten-minute walk from here, right? Don’t even _think_ about driving high, you can come get your car in the morning.”

Alana nods. “Yes Ms. Herzberg.”

Heidi rolls her eyes. “Heidi,” she insists. “Just Heidi.” She looks at Evan and her face softens again. 

Her face goes soft a lot when she looks at him, Evan’s noticed. 

_“You don’t hear how she talks about you when you’re not around, Evan. She would take a fucking bullet for you. She loves you so much.”_

Evan swallows hard. For a moment, he thinks he might cry. 

“Don’t stay up too late,” Heidi says. “Okay, sweetheart?”

“We won’t,” he promises. 

She smiles, this big smile. “Okay. Have a good rest of your night, guys. Thanks for the weed.”

With that, she heads into the house. 

* * *

Evan seems a bit floored by the fact that Heidi joined them. He’s still fucking sort of staring off in the direction she left. 

Connor is… pretty stoned. And still sort of reeling a little. 

David… had a boyfriend. Before Heidi. 

He had a boyfriend. 

A boyfriend. 

Connor… 

Feels kind of like an idiot honestly. 

A stoned idiot. 

He actually laughs because. 

He should have fucking known. 

Because when he was thirteen years old, David caught Connor smoking cigarettes outside of his house. He bummed a smoke off of Connor. Didn’t bust him. 

Because instead, he tried to talk to Connor. 

Talked to him about how he understood. He understood how it felt to be different. How he got what it was like to not feel like you fit in with the other kids at school. 

He was… David knew. He fucking _knew._

Connor thinks about what David wrote in Connor’s sixteenth birthday card. 

_“Heidi and I will always be there. Nothing will change that.”_

So he knew. 

He knew Connor was gay. 

Connor frowns and selfishly wishes that David had been just… a little more explicit when he said he understood what Connor was going through at thirteen. It would have saved him a lot of trouble trying to figure out just what the fuck was the matter with him. 

Fuck. 

Sabrina laughs sort of suddenly. 

“What?” Connor says. 

“Do you… do you think that there’s something in Newport that, like, makes you gay?” She giggles. “Like. In the-the water or something? Like. David Henderson liked guys. And he grew up here! Is _everyone_ gay?”

Connor and Alana join her in laughing. It’s funny to think about. The idea that being from Newport could make you gay. 

There are a lot of gay people around, Connor thinks. 

Him. Sabrina. Alana. 

Zoe, probably. 

Connor does not know much about lesbians, but he sure as hell knows that straight girls don’t like… eat out other girls. 

God, it is so gross that he saw her doing that, like, Jesus. 

Maybe everyone is gay. 

Connor’s always been a little suspicious of Tommy Whittington. He _did_ hold Connor’s hand on the playground for like a full minute in the third grade after Connor gave him a chocolate kiss on Valentine’s Day. 

The three of them are still laughing but then Sabrina stops as abruptly as she started. “S-sorry Evan,” She giggles. “I’m sorry. I know you’re not… That you’re not gay.” 

In the firelight, Evan’s cheeks get a little rosy. 

God damn it he is pretty and Connor is stoned and sort of wants to put his head on Evan’s shoulder. Evan lets him do that sometimes. Doesn’t seem to mind. 

He’d probably mind tonight though. Probably doesn’t want Connor hanging off of him all sad and stoned and pathetic in front of their other friends. 

They have other friends. 

That’s kind of insane, really. Connor hasn’t had plural friends since freshman year. 

And those people weren’t really friends as much as they were people to get high around. 

Then Evan laughs and he has a great laugh. A really great laugh. Connor thinks his laugh is the cutest. He sometimes does this little nervous laugh when he’s uncomfortable, this chirpy little titter, and Connor sort of wants to, like, kiss him a lot when he laughs like that. 

Which is. 

He should probably keep that in check. 

Evan is straight. He’s straight. 

“I’m st-straight,” Evan says, solidifying Connor’s point. “Pr-probably because I didn’t grow up around here.”

Alana and Sabrina start cracking up again. 

But Connor is watching Evan closely. He’s wearing this sort of uncertain expression as Alana starts trying to, like, talk about the gay scene in Seattle which she very clearly knows absolutely nothing about despite the academic tone of voice she’s adopted. 

Evan looks… thoughtful. Unsure. But his face isn’t guarded. He’s not hiding in himself the way Connor is so used to seeing. 

He’s almost not surprised when Evan speaks next. 

Almost. 

He’s a little surprised. 

“I’m not actually from Seattle,” Evan says softly. 

Connor feels his eyes get huge. 

Sabrina and Alana both stop laughing, and they look confused. 

“Did you move there from somewhere else?” Sabrina asks kinda. 

“No,” Evan says. He’s sort of frowning a little. Like he’s thinking hard. “I’ve n-never even been there.”

Connor feels like his heart might pound right out of his chest. It’s pumping so wildly against his ribs that his chest starts to hurt. 

“What are you talking about?” Alana asks.

“I’m… I’m from Chino.” 

Alana shakes her head experimentally. “I’m sorry?”

“You’re fucking with us,” Sabrina laughs. “You’re stoned and you’re messing with us.”

Evan looks pleadingly at Connor. 

“He’s not,” Connor says. “He’s not from Seattle.” 

“But that’s where Ms. Herzberg’s brother is from,” Alana says. 

“Heidi’s not my aunt,” Evan says. He’s not looking at either Sabrina or Alana. He’s looking into the fire. There’s a sort of grim determination on his face. “We’re not even related. Sh-she took me in a-after my dad threw me out.” He swallows. Give Connor a sort of sad smile. “For getting arrested.”

“Arrested?” Sabrina repeats. “What did you do?”

“Stole a car,” Evan says. He frowns. “N-n-not really though. My dad’s girlfriend’s kid actually stole it. I was j-just… in it.” 

“That’s not fair,” Sabrina says. “That’s awful.” 

Alana meanwhile looks like she’s having an existential crisis. “ _You’ve_ been arrested?” She says. “ _I’ve_ been trying to get arrested for one of my protests for years. That’s not fair.”

Connor can’t help the laugh that escapes him. “Holy fuck, Alana, can you focus for _one minute_ on something other than your burgeoning career as an activist. Evan’s telling you something important.”

Evan gives Connor an unsure smile. Looks back at Alana and Sabrina. “Heidi’s my lawyer. That’s how I really know her. She became my legal guardian after my dad kicked me out.” 

Alana nods to herself. “I knew there was something off about your transcripts,” She says. “Nobody’s GPA climbs that much over the course of one semester for purely academic reasons.” 

“Dude,” Connor says, glaring at Alana. “You have got to calm down and stop doing shit like that. It’s why the lesbians won’t elect you queen.”

Alana crosses her arms and frowns. 

Sabrina however looks really sad. “Your dad kicked you out?”

“Yeah,” Evan says. 

“What about your mom?”

Evan’s eyes go a little dull. Connor thinks back to their trip to visit her grave. How sad Evan was when he told Connor the story about them going to the beach. Winning a stuffed monkey. His mom not waking up the next morning. 

“She died when I was little.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Sabrina says, and she sounds genuine. 

Evan shrugs. Nods. Says, “Thanks.” 

“Why did you tell everyone you were Heidi’s nephew?” Alana asks. 

Evan frowns. “I…” He looks at Connor helplessly. 

“My sister assumed that’s who he was,” Connor volunteers. 

“And I… th-thought it might be easier if I… pretended. Like I fit in.” 

Connor gives Evan a lopsided smile. “And then the poor bastard met me. Sorry again about that.” 

Evan shoves his shoulder lightly and laughs at him. 

Looks back at the others and clears his throat. “I’m sorry th-that I lied,” He says. “It just… The whole thing got out of control so fast that I… I was a-afraid of what m-might happen if people knew the truth.” 

Sabrina crawls across the picnic blanket and hugs Evan fiercely. “You don’t ever have to pretend to be someone else with us, okay? We’re like… the Truth Gang or something.”

“I don’t like the connotations of the word gang,” Alana says primly. “It has connections to racialized crime -”

“Truth Group?” Connor suggests, then flinches at how dumb it sounds. “No, fuck that, that’s stupid. Truth Squad?”

Evan grins. “Truth Squad s-sounds pretty good.”

“Squad has some connections with police squadrons -”

“Alana,” Sabrina says seriously. “You have got to lighten up. If this is you stoned…”

They all laugh. 

And things are okay. 

And somehow Connor feels… a thousand times lighter. Because Evan told their friends (plural friends) the truth about who he was, and they didn’t reject him. They laughed about it. They joked and it was okay. 

Evan told them the truth. 

And Connor thinks maybe that means he’s planning to stick around. Planning to be here and stay friends with Alana and Sabrina and Connor. Planning to be around long enough to let them get to know him better. 

Their laughter fades and Alana says, sounding curious, “So there’s no gay water in Chino?” She’s so deadpan that it cracks them all right up again. 

And it’s okay. 

* * *

Connor rolls another joint with what’s left of Eric’s weed, and the three of them take turns smoking. Alana seems to have clicked why Evan’s not partaking. 

“You’re on probation,” she says with a nod. “So they randomly drug test.”

“Yeah,” says Evan with a nod. He shrugs. “It’s, like… not a big deal, I don’t…” He shrugs. “Drugs aren’t really my thing.”

“Was your story about the bad trip true?” Sabrina asks, suddenly curious. 

Evan nods. “Yeah,” he says, and he frowns a little. “So my dad’s girlfriend’s kid? His name’s Ethan, he’s an asshole. He’s three years older than me. When he first showed up he was 17 and I was 14 and he dragged me to this party and someone put… I don’t know what the fuck it was in that joint, but it messed me up a lot? I felt really, really sick and I kept, like, thinking I could see my mom?”

Connor goes deathly pale. Sabrina feels something in her chest twist painfully. “That sounds awful.” 

Evan shrugs. Deflates a little. “I mean, it wasn’t great. And then he left me at the party? So the next day when I woke up I had no idea where the fuck I was and no way to get home.” He makes a face. “Fuck, s-sorry guys.” He gives this rueful smile. Looks at Connor, then into the fire. “I don’t always… don’t always really think about how some of the sh-shit in my past must sound to someone else, you know? Like, fucking hell, way to bring the mood down, Evan.”

“It must be hard, not being able to talk about it,” Sabrina says, and she doesn’t know if it’s the weed or that she’s just bummed but she feels like she might cry all of a sudden. This poor guy has all this bullshit going on under the surface and no one knows. 

Evan shrugs again. He looks at Connor. Smiles a little. “I have Connor,” he says softly. “I can talk to Connor, I…” His face turns pink. “He always makes me feel a little less alone.”

Connor’s looking at Evan. He’s wearing this soft smile, and his cheeks are pink, and he just looks at Evan with this fond expression that makes Sabrina’s heart clench a little. 

Zoe always suspected that Connor had a thing for Evan. Sabrina hadn’t really thought about it much, but looking at them now, it seems clear as day. 

Connor’s head over heels. Completely and utterly gone. 

And Evan doesn’t have a clue. 

Fuck, that stings. 

That hits close to home. 

She’s hit with the sudden urge to just… hug Connor. Tell him that she knows exactly how this feels. 

She doesn’t, of course. 

But she wants to. 

“You can talk to us,” Sabrina says instead. “We might not understand what it was like for you, but we do get being… different, I guess.”

Connor looks at Sabrina and smiles. When he’s genuinely smiling, it reminds her of Zoe. 

At the beginning of the semester, this is not where Sabrina thought she’d be. Hanging out getting stoned with Zoe’s brother. 

She misses Zoe a lot. 

A whole lot.

She hopes she’s okay. Hopes she’s safe. 

She wishes she could just… ask Connor. She’d ask him right now if it weren’t for the fact that she’s so fucking stoned that she knows she’ll spill about her and Zoe to Evan, and that’s…

Not her secret to tell. 

Not even a little. 

“I need to pee,” Alana says. She stands up, then almost falls over. “Oh my god. I did not expect that.” 

Maybe Connor can read Sabrina’s mind, because he nudges Evan. “You’re the only one who’s not stoned,” he announces. “Make sure she gets to the house in one piece to use the bathroom?”

“Sure,” says Evan, like it’s not a weird request at all. He stands up and walks Alana to Heidi’s beach house.

Connor looks at Sabrina. “Zoe doesn't talk to me,” he says after a moment. “We’re not… you know we’re not close.”

“I know,” Sabrina says helplessly. “I just… is she okay? I know she’s been partying a lot, I…” She sighs. Tucks her hair behind her ear. “I worry? That’s so stupid, I know.”

“It’s not stupid,” Connor replies immediately. His face twists a little. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I don’t know if she’s okay. She’s come home drunk a lot, I…” He looks into the fire. Doesn’t look at her. “I wait up for her. Just so I know she’s made it home. I don’t… I don’t talk to her, I don’t let her see me, I just… wait up.” He shrugs a little helplessly. “I can never sleep properly until I know she’s made it home.”

Sabrina wipes her face. “I miss her,” she confesses quietly. 

Connor looks at her unhappily. “Yeah,” he says, equally quietly. “Me too.”

It’s nearly 2am by the time Alana and Sabrina head back to Alana’s. They’re slightly less stoned than they were, but still a little buzzed. 

“This has been really fun,” says Alana, this small smile on her face. “It’s really nice that we can hang out like this.”

“Yeah,” says Connor, sounding almost surprised. “We should… hang out more. Not just at lunch.”

“Yeah,” says Evan, and he’s got a good smile when he’s really smiling. He seems a lot lighter. A lot less tense. Sabrina thinks that maybe a weight’s been lifted off him, being able to be honest about who he is. 

She makes sure to give him an extra-long hug before she goes. He seems a little surprised, but she thinks in a good way. 

Now that she knows he’s not trying to get with Zoe, Sabrina likes Evan a whole lot more. She was such a jealous cow before, it’s pretty obvious now. 

“Your secret’s safe with us,” Sabrina says to Evan seriously. “But I meant it. About not having to pretend.”

He smiles at her even bigger. “Thank you.”

When she and Alana are halfway to Alana’s parents’ beach house, Alana turns to Sabrina. 

“Do you think there’s something going on between Evan and Connor?”

Sabrina shrugs. “I think Connor would like there to be.”

Alana laughs a little. “I mean, Connor’s _obviously_ into Evan, that’s been clear since day one.” She pauses for a moment, then continues. “They’re closer than most guys, though. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Sabrina shrugs again. “Honestly? I have no idea.” She’s still stoned, so it takes a while for her to figure out what to say what she’s thinking. “Knowing about Evan’s past,” she says slowly, “it all makes a lot more sense. Connor never really fit in around here and Evan… he’s from a completely different world. And they’ve both been through stuff that’s kind of… a lot, you know? But they seem to really _get_ each other. And I think maybe that’s what both of them need right now.”

* * *

Connor and Evan stay in Evan’s room at the beach house that night. Connor is still kind of stoned and Evan seems to have relaxed a lot after he confessed who he really was to Alana and Sabrina. Like he’s lighter somehow. Connor is happy for him. 

And selfishly, he’s happy for himself. 

Because Evan telling the truth is a huge fucking deal. But also maybe it means he’s not planning to leave. Not planning to bail… or move to D.C. 

Connor really really doesn’t want Evan and Heidi to move away. 

He knows that makes him selfish but it’s true. It’s the truth. 

They get changed for bed. 

Connor does his best not to be a creep who checks Evan out as he changes. 

He’s kind of surprised as Evan starts talking to him as Connor is pulling off his shirt. 

“Hey,” Evan says suddenly. 

“What?” Connor says, feeling weirdly panicked. He’s not wearing a shirt. He hasn’t even grabbed the clean shirt for bed yet. Does he have something weird on his back or something? 

But Evan’s smiling when Connor turns around. 

“Okay maybe this is weird to say,” Evan says. “But. You can’t really see your ribs as much anymore.”

Connor stares at him. “What?”

Evan takes a step closer. He’s wearing one of those ratty ass wife beaters he likes so much and Connor can see his shoulders and arms and he finds himself swallowing hard as Evan gently pokes Connor in the side. 

Connor’s skin erupts in goosebumps. He briefly crosses his arms over his middle. 

But Evan’s looking at him. 

And Connor drops his arms. Lets him look. 

He knows what he looks like. 

It’s pretty gross. 

But Evan’s not looking at Connor like he’s weirded out or anything. He’s smiling. 

“You can’t see your ribs as much anymore,” he says again. “That’s good. You look…” His cheeks are suddenly pink. 

Connor thinks stupidly about Alana rambling on about bisexuality and then tells himself off for being an idiot. 

“You look healthier,” Evan finally says. 

Connor tries to nod. 

Tries to pull his shirt on. Accidentally tries to stick his head in his sleeve. His heart is pounding. 

He keeps thinking about Evan poking him in the side. 

Keeps thinking about how it might feel if Evan touched him. 

Evan’s touched his sides before. His chest. Always separated by several layers of clothes though. That tiny touch seems to have engulfed Connor’s insides with flames. 

His brain takes him on a little ride. 

Him leaning in and wrapping his arms around Evan. Feeling his strong chest against Connor’s sunken one. Tracing the angles of his shoulder blades. 

Connor leaning in and kissing Evan. Evan kissing him back. Resting his hand against Connor’s side. The two of them falling into bed together, kissing and hands everywhere and Connor reaching his hand inside the waistband of Evan’s sweats which leave very little to the imagination. 

Connor blinks. 

Evan’s cheeks are a little pink. 

And Connor’s semi-hard and… fuck. 

Connor shakes his head. Pulls his shirt back on. “I just gotta,” Connor says stupidly. He rushes out of the room and into the bathroom. He needs to brush his teeth. 

He needs to get rid of his very obvious boner because fuck. He cannot just be popping boners because his best friend _poked his side._

Like maybe if he had poked Connor with his dick. 

Jesus fuck. 

Connor splashes some cold water on his face. Brushes his teeth and tries to think of things that are not sexy. 

Granny Murphy never wears a bra and her old lady boobs are always flapping around in her nightgowns. 

Think about Granny. 

Damn it. 

Old lady boobs. Old lady boobs flapping around and hanging heavily down to her waist and _Jesus Granny can’t you put a damn bra on?_

Connor breathes. 

Okay. Okay. 

Crisis averted. 

Okay. 

Connor heads back into Evan’s room. 

Evan’s already in bed. Connor gets the lights and climbs in on the other side. Makes sure to keep an appropriate distance between them. 

Evan however doesn’t seem to have registered the slight meltdown Connor is having because he pokes Connor’s side again. 

Connor rolls toward him. Desperately hopes Evan won’t come any closer. 

But he does. He scoots a little bit closer. They’re maybe a foot apart now. 

Thank god Connor has a decidedly average dick because otherwise, this would be a problem. 

“How are you feeling?” Evan asks. 

Connor doesn’t understand. How is he feeling? 

He’s feeling like his best friend is unfairly hot and unbelievably close and torturing him. He’s feeling like his boner is going to ruin his entire life. 

_Granny Murphy. Think about Granny Murphy’s old saggy boobs._

“What?” Connor says breathlessly. 

Because for a second he thinks Evan’s asking him something… else. 

“About stuff. Like. Did hanging out and smoking weed help?”

Connor nods. Remembers it’s dark. “Yeah. It helped.”

“Good.”

“You can’t punch anybody on Monday morning,” Connor says suddenly. It seems vitally important that he reminds Evan of this. 

“What about the afternoon?”

Connor smiles. What a shit head. 

“Let’s wait and see,” he says. “But looks like a no.”

Evan “hmph”s. 

Connor sighs. “Seriously dude. You _can’t._ ”

“I know,” Evan says. 

“You’d get into so much trouble.”

“I know.”

“And I… I need you there,” Connor volunteers suddenly. Surprises himself with that confession. “I don’t know if I can do it by myself.”

“Of course you can,” Evan says like Connor is being ridiculous. 

“Evan, I’m serious. It’s gonna be bad. You can’t lose it… if you get kicked out of school-”

“I won’t,” he says. His voice is steady but soft. He reaches out and puts his hand on Connor’s side. 

Connor is pretty sure he was aiming for his upper arm but missed in the dark. He holds still so Evan can correct himself. 

He doesn’t. 

“Besides,” Evan says. “Pretty obvious that I’m the one who needs _you._ Heidi wouldn’t even let me go to school the last couple of days without you there. She knew I’d do something stupid.”

Connor gives him a hard look. 

It’s dark. Fuck. 

He reaches out and grips Evan’s upper arm. He doesn’t miss. He grips tight. “I need you not to get into trouble. _Please_.”

Evan sighs. “Alright.”

“Evan…”

Evan’s eyes are big and bright in the dark. 

Connor’s imagination goes on another little adventure. 

He could lean in. Use his grip on Evan’s arm to pull him closer. He could kiss him right now. Evan could wrap his arm around Connor, use his hand to trace up Connor’s side. It’s maddening how much Connor wants Evan to just touch him. Just to fucking _touch_ him. 

Connor blinks. 

_Granny Murphy’s saggy old wrinkly boobs hanging down by her belly button._

It doesn’t work. 

“What?” Evan says. He’s waiting for Connor to say words. He said Evan’s name and normally that is a precursor to talking. 

“You’re a really good friend.”

Fuck what a lame thing to say. 

Evan laughs and shoves Connor slightly. “You fucking dork, are you still stoned?” he says. But then he scoots closer and like. Awkwardly hugs Connor. 

While they’re both _lying down._ Connor does his best to keep his hips away. He needs to not be a huge freak right now. 

“You’re a good friend too.”

He lets go. 

And Connor tries desperately to breathe. 

This kid is going to kill him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "Perfect Situation" by Weezer.


	43. It’s Just A Matter Of Time Until We’re All Found Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sabrina turns seventeen. Evan gets some news.

Sabrina’s mom hasn’t spoken to her since the argument the day she came out, and doesn’t show any signs of stopping the silent treatment. It’s not the worst thing in the world, really, but it’s kind of nerve-wracking.

Her mom wants to send her off somewhere to get “de-gayed” or whatever. 

Her mom always wins whenever her parents have some kind of a face off. Always. Her dad always caves, always gives in. 

This is the longest he’s held his ground on anything ever. 

It’s been three weeks. 

He still might cave. Still might give in, might let Lisa send Sabrina away, make her leave and go off and… fucking hell, Sabrina’s not even sure what it is her mom’s suggesting here. Conversion therapy? Is she talking about honest to fuck conversion therapy?

It weighs on her, more than a little. 

Keeps her up at night. 

Which is probably how her week of her birthday sneaks up on her. She doesn’t even remember until Alana mentions it at lunch the day before. 

“It’s your birthday tomorrow?” Evan asks, smiling a little. “You’re only a few weeks older than me.”

“We could do some kind of combined thing next weekend maybe,” she volunteers. “I mean, it’d just be the four of us, not a huge rager, but it could be fun.”

Evan’s smile widens. He shakes his head. “I’ve been to enough parties to last me a lifetime.” He looks at her. “Plus you deserve your own day.” 

Sabrina shrugs. “My parents and I usually go out for dinner,” she says uneasily. “But my mom’s not speaking to me, or my dad, so I guess that’s out.”

“We could go out for dinner,” Connor says. “Like, us four. That could be fun?”

Sabrina looks at Connor, whose face is a little pale. Something in her chest clenches a little. She knows that Connor struggles to eat sometimes. That he’s got something going on with food that, honestly, hits a little close to home after all the bullshit her mom has spouted over the years. 

Connor being the one to suggest going out for dinner, especially after what happened last week? That’s a big fucking deal. 

It’s just… really fucking great of him. 

“I’d like that,” says Sabrina. She thinks about something that Connor might be okay with eating. “Maybe Mexican?”

“Mexican could be cool,” Connor says tentatively. 

“I like Mexican,” Alana chimes in. 

“There’s this Mexican place I went to with Heidi,” Evan says quietly. “It’s really nice.” He smiles a little softly. Looks around to make sure no one’s listening, then continues. “She asked me if she could be my legal guardian there.”

Connor’s whole face softens. “That means it’s got good vibes,” he says immediately. “The best vibes.”

Evan smiles at Connor and Connor’s cheeks go pink. He smiles back, this small smile that makes him look a lot like his sister. 

Who Sabrina is pointedly not thinking about right now. 

Zoe had been the one to insist that Sabrina throw a party for her seventeenth. They hadn’t really started to plan it, but they’d talked about it. Her birthday’s on a Thursday, so the party was going to be on the Friday. 

“We’ll get up super early on your actual birthday,” Zoe had said when they talked about it back in early February. Sabrina remembers that conversation vividly because they’d both been naked at the time. “We’ll get up early and we’ll go have breakfast before school, just the two of us.” Zoe had kissed Sabrina’s neck. “Maybe I could stay over the night before. Wake you up properly.”

Sabrina had responded pretty fucking enthusiastically to that idea. 

Fucking hell. 

Fuck. 

Alana’s looking at her, eyebrows raised, and Sabrina realizes she’s lost track of the conversation. 

“What?”

“Talk to your dad tonight,” Alana says, rolling her eyes a little. “Then text us what he says, okay?” 

“Sure,” says Sabrina, knowing that her cheeks are bright pink and hoping no one calls her on it. 

Thankfully, no one does.

* * *

Sabrina’s birthday is on Thursday. Zoe knows this. She’d already bought Sabrina’s gift too, before all of the stupidity. It’s not amazing, of course, but it's a necklace with a little gold charm of a heart. It’s cute. Very Sabrina. 

Zoe decides she’ll give it to her anyway. It’s not like it’s doing her much good keeping the thing in a wrapped box at her house. She’ll give it to Sabrina. Sneak it into her locker. Zoe knows the combination. 

Maybe… 

Maybe since things are dying down a little, they can talk again. Not at school, of course, that would be literally insane. But maybe after school. Maybe on weekends and stuff they could hang out. 

Zoe misses her. Misses being alone with Sabrina. Not just because they’d… but because Sabrina makes her laugh. A lot. Big belly laughs. Huge fits of giggles. Zoe never has to pretend to be cooler than she is when she’s around Sabrina, and she misses that. She misses that a lot actually. 

There’s this bakery they’d sometimes go to, too. Zoe always got those cookies with the M&M’s, but Sabrina was a fan of their cupcakes. They quit going so much as it got closer to cotillion because Sabrina’s mom had her on, like, a starvation diet. But Sabrina always liked the cupcakes there. She really liked the sea salt caramel ones. 

On Wednesday after school, Zoe goes to that bakery. Buys a sea salt caramel cupcake and asks them to box it up in a birthday box. She’ll get to school early on Thursday. Put it in Sabrina’s locker. Maybe Sabrina will call her? 

After school, Zoe stashes the cupcake in the fridge and helps her parents and Connor with dinner. Her dad is really not letting go of the family dinner thing. Tonight they’re making salmon. 

Connor keeps pulling faces. 

He doesn’t like fish. Wouldn’t even eat fish sticks as a kid. 

Wasn’t this whole “family dinner” thing supposed to be making Connor eat? Why would they cook something he just doesn’t like? This is stupid. Zoe thinks it’s really fucking stupid. 

They all sit down to dinner. Connor picks at his fish but eats his whole salad and all of his sides. He clears his throat awkwardly. “Can I skip dinner tomorrow?”

“No,” His dad says quickly. 

“Not like… Not like _skip_ it, like, entirely? Just. Can I go out instead?”

Their dad looks surprised. “You and Evan going somewhere?” 

Connor’s face turns pink. “It’s a friend of mine’s… it’s her birthday.” His eyes briefly flicker to Zoe. “We were gonna take her out to dinner.” 

Their dad smiles and tells Connor it’s fine. 

Zoe feels her heart drop to her knees. 

What the fuck. 

Connor’s taking Sabrina to dinner. Sabrina’s the only birthday that Zoe knows of tomorrow. Connor’s taking her out to dinner? That’s not fair. They’re not even friends. They just sit together at lunch. 

What the fuck. 

First he stole Evan, now he’s stealing Sabrina? Can’t Zoe keep, like, one person she likes to herself? Jesus fuck it’s not fair. 

She eats the rest of her food trying not to cry. It’s stupidly hard to swallow when you feel like you’re about to burst into tears. She can’t believe he’s hanging out with Sabrina. Zoe just cannot believe he’d do this to her. 

He’s always fucking doing this shit to Zoe and Sabrina knows it. She’s probably laughing to herself about how pissed off Zoe’s going to be that she’s hanging out with Connor. She probably thinks this is hysterical. 

Zoe could actually just totally lose it. 

She rushes away from the dinner table the moment she’s dismissed. Heads upstairs and throws herself on her bed. Cries for an embarrassingly long time. Here she was, all high and mighty thinking she would gift her presence on Sabrina tomorrow out of the goodness of her heart, and Sabrina doesn’t even care about her anymore. She doesn’t care. She’s friends with Connor. If she really cared about Zoe, she wouldn’t be friends with Zoe’s awful brother. 

It’s not fucking fair. It’s just not fucking fair. 

Zoe hates her. She really fucking hates her.

* * *

Evan’s still not sure he really knows Sabrina that well, but he wants her to have a good birthday. He thinks she’s brave and badass for coming out and she’s been really kind to Connor since the whole nightmare with his note. 

And she hasn’t, like, spilled where he’s from to the entire school after he told her and Alana at the beach. 

It’s weird, having friends. 

He finds some candles in a drawer at Heidi’s place so he can stick one in a muffin and light it at lunch. Sabrina laughs happily when she sees it, which he likes. 

She looks pretty today. She’s wearing less makeup than she used to and instead of straightening her hair like she did most days, she’s letting it go all wavy. 

Evan thinks that the reason she looks pretty today isn’t because she’s put in any extra effort or whatever. It’s because she’s happy. 

That’s awesome. He wants her to be happy. 

“So hey,” says Connor to Sabrina, “did you notice how I didn’t mouth off in trig today? Happy birthday.”

Sabrina laughs. “Was you not getting detention my birthday present?”

Connor grins. “I didn’t get detention so I could go get you a birthday present before dinner,” he says. “I’m a little unorganized, sorry.”

“You don’t have to get me anything,” Sabrina says immediately. Her face falls a little. “The fact that you guys, like, even talk to me is present enough.”

For a moment, Evan’s afraid she’s going to cry.

Connor looks at Evan a little helplessly, then at Alana, who also looks really bummed out. 

“Dinner’s g-going to be great,” Evan offers. “The burritos are really, really good. And Heidi told me that the churros are worth trying as well. They’re not, like, too greasy? You know how sometimes churros are super greasy?”

“Churros are basically just fried dough,” Alana points out. “Of course they’re greasy, isn’t that the point?”

“There’s, like, science b-behind it,” Evan says, hoping to focus the attention less on Sabrina being sad and more on literally anything else. “If the oil isn’t h-hot enough then the food is going to absorb way more than it should. Sometimes f-food that’s really greasy and oily just means that they d-didn’t do a great job at frying it.” He shrugs. “So if they’re n-not super oily and greasy then they probably did them well.”

Evan doesn’t think he’s quite convinced Connor to eat churros but at least Sabrina looks less sad. 

After school, Connor insists they go straight to the mall to get a present for Sabrina. He seems to have some kind of an idea in mind because they go straight to Hot Topic and he starts looking at t-shirts. 

“She likes Paramore,” he says when Evan asks him what he’s looking for. “Mentioned Hayley Williams when she came out. And I know she already has a copy of _All We Know Is Falling_.” He finds a shirt, but then frowns. His eyes go wide and he looks kind of terrified. “I know nothing about sizes. Fuck.”

Evan frowns, too. “Me neither.”

Connor looks genuinely upset now. “Well, I don’t want to upset her,” he says a little helplessly. “By getting the wrong size. That’s bullshit.” He looks around. Goes through various shirts, a little helplessly. Then holds one up against _Evan._

“What are you doing?” he asks. 

“Do me a favor,” Connor says, “and go try this on.”

“Why?”

Connor’s cheeks go pink. “You’ve got broader shoulders than Sabrina,” he points out, “but you don’t have boobs, so… if it fits you, it’ll probably fit her.” 

“That is…” Evan trails off. He really doesn’t want to go try something on, especially not here where he still feels geeky and weird and out of place. 

But Connor’s got a point. 

Fuck. 

He hates it when Connor has a point.

“Fine,” he says, taking the t-shirt and heading off. For a moment he thinks Connor’s following him, but he turns to see that he’s talking to a salesperson. 

She’s about their age, with straight black hair and a nose piercing. She’s wearing a fuckton of eyeliner, even though you can only see one of her eyes because of her face. 

She’s wearing a Panic! At The Disco shirt and skinny jeans and a belt that’s almost identical to the one Evan got Connor for his birthday. 

Evan feels this weird twinge of annoyance in his stomach at the way she smiles at Connor. She’s obviously checking him out. 

He’s tempted to turn around and tell her that she’s wasting her time, but then Connor smiles back at her, and Evan feels his cheeks go red. 

Very quickly, he heads to the changing room. Tries on the t-shirt, to find that it fits him pretty well. Experimentally he, like, shoves his fists under the shirt to stretch it out, trying to imagine how it would look on Sabrina with her boobs. 

Almost immediately he moves his hands because that is just super weird. 

But he’s feeling good at the sizing, he thinks. Connor had the right idea. 

He takes it off and changes back into his plain grey t-shirt and hoodie. Heads back out with the shirt to find that Connor and the sales girl are _still_ talking. 

“I think this w-will fit,” Evan says, handing the shirt to Connor. “I’m going to l-look around a bit more, okay?” 

Connor looks at him, eyes wide, and Evan heads off for another run of the store because it’s weird to watch his best friend being flirted with. Especially by a girl who’s, like, clearly into the same stuff that he is, even though Evan knows that Connor’s gay. 

When they went to the Panic! At The Disco concert, a girl totally gave Connor her number then, too. 

Girls are always trying to flirt with Connor, it’s so fucking _weird._ Maybe he should be wearing a sign or something. 

But Evan keeps thinking about how Alana talks about sexuality being a spectrum. 

How Connor said he’d kissed girls before and it hadn’t totally sucked. 

Maybe he’s actually into this girl. Evan doesn’t know. 

Sexuality is a spectrum, apparently. 

He’s getting himself all twisted in knots about the whole idea of it not having to just be gay and straight, that there could be somewhere in the middle. 

If it’s not just gay and straight, then Connor might totally be into the Hot Topic girl. 

Evan’s dreamed about kissing Connor twice since the night of the beach bonfire. Which is… weird, but obviously has something to do with this whole middle ground thing, the whole… confusion. 

It doesn’t mean he’s into Connor, it just means…

If you can be somewhere in the middle, if sexuality is a spectrum, then wouldn’t it make sense to choose something that’s easy? 

If Connor wants to hook up with the Hot Topic girl, Evan would understand. 

And feeling weird about it is stupid and selfish of him.

* * *

Evan heads off for the dressing room and Connor starts to follow when one of the salespeople stops him. “You look familiar.”

Connor blinks. Turns to look around because she’s obviously not talking to _him_. 

“Me?” Connor says, still very confused. 

“You look super familiar,” she says, pursing her lips. “Have I bumped into you at a show before? You’re cute so I’d definitely remember you.”

Connor feels his face heating up. He shrugs. Looks at the girl’s shirt. “I was at the December Panic! show?”

She shakes her head. “Can’t be that. I did some bad shrooms with my ex and ended up hiding in the bathroom.”

Connor pulls a face. “Ugh I’m sorry.”

She’s still looking at him. Evan has long since disappeared. Then her eyes (well her _eye_ because the other one is hidden behind her hair) light up. “Oh my god I know who you are. You’re friends with M!”

Connor feels his cheeks heat up more. Fuck. Is M just going to follow him everywhere forever. “H-how do you know M?”

“We’re MySpace friends. We’ve messaged a few times on AIM too. You’re in his top eight. And a ton of his pictures.”

Connor sort of nods. Goes to head off toward the changing rooms. “My friend’s-”

“I’m Lucy,” she says suddenly. 

Connor blinks. “Connor.”

She’s blushing under her pale foundation. “Look okay I don’t normally do this-”

_Oh god then please don’t,_ Connor thinks. But before Lucy can finish telling Connor what she normally doesn’t do, Evan reappears. 

“I think this w-will fit,” Evan says. He hands the shirt to Connor. He looks kind of annoyed. Connor tries to send him a look that properly communicates that he would like to be saved from this conversation, but then Evan goes on, “I’m going to l-look around a bit more, okay?” And then he’s gone. 

Fuck. 

Connor turns back to Lucy. “Sorry, I should really-”

“Here,” she says. She takes the shirt from Connor and heads to the register. She rings him up and then winks and says, “I get an employee discount. I’ll hook you up.”

Connor sort of wants to protest that he can absolutely afford to pay full price but then he instead just says, “Can I get a gift receipt?”

Lucy’s smile falls. “Is it for your girlfriend?”

Connor should just say yes so she leaves him alone. He never knows what to do when girls do this. He doesn’t _get it._ “No. Just my friend Sabrina. It’s her birthday. She thinks Hayley Williams is hot.”

_Oh my god can you please stop talking now please?_

Lucy beams. 

She hands him the gift receipt. And the regular receipt. 

She writes her number at the top. 

“You should call me some time,” she says. 

Connor feels like his face is going to melt off. Wishes suddenly that he actually liked girls. It would be less fucking inconvenient than being pathetically into Evan. Evan, potentially the straightest dude to ever be decent. Or the most decent dude to be straight. Regardless, straight. 

If Connor were straight he would call this girl. She has a nose ring, which Connor thinks is actually pretty cool. He’s thought about it before. She also has a lip ring. He wonders if that’s weird when you’re kissing. 

And like he’s kissed girls before. It’s not _bad._ It’s just kissing. It just didn’t like. Feel the way kissing guys feels. 

His mom would probably piss her pants with happiness if Connor suddenly decided to get himself a girlfriend. 

She probably wouldn’t actually like him if they hung out in person anyway. Even if he _were_ straight or bi or like… able to make a single exception for chicks who like the same bands he does, she’d realize fast that he’s weird and doesn’t eat and just sits around being bummed out and obsessed with Evan a lot of the time. 

He says something vague and noncommittal to Lucy and then leaves to find Evan. He feels kind of weird about the whole thing. Evan seemed kind of annoyed. Maybe he thought Lucy was cute? Maybe he thinks Connor’s like, he doesn’t know, distracting the girls Evan’s into. 

Evan’s staring into the locked case with all of the jewelry they sell. 

“What are you looking at?” Connor asks. 

“What even _is_ that?” He says, pointing to a belly button ring with a tiny bejeweled skeleton on it. 

“Belly button ring,” Connor says. At least it’s not a fucking Koosh Ball. “And I’m not sure Sabrina has hers pierced.”

Evan sighs. “I’m fucking terrible at buying presents.”

Connor shakes his head. “You’re not. The stuff you’ve gotten me has been perfect.” He shrugs. “Just get her a gift card dude. I know it’s kinda impersonal but we only _just_ started hanging out with her.”

“But y-you got her-”

“I only know she likes the band because of one conversation when she was staying over and hanging out with Zoe, and then she brought Hayley Williams up when she came out. It’s not like…” Suddenly Connor feels extremely stupid for buying this shirt. _He_ should have gotten a gift card. “I don’t even… I mean Sabrina and I barely know each other. I mean. I dunno what I’m even doing I don’t even really know if we’re like, actually friends or if I’m being an idiot and I mean _shit_ maybe she actually hates me or like feels sorry for me because of the note thing but she doesn’t have anyone else to sit with at lunch and-”

“Connor.”

He stops talking. Feels embarrassed. “I’m just. Not used to having friends,” Connor says. 

“Me either,” Evan says. He smiles a little. “She’s gonna like the shirt. D-don’t. Don’t worry.”

Connor tries to smile. Evan starts to head toward the register. “Can I wait for you outside? The cashier gave me her number and I kinda… feel weird about it?”

Evan agrees. 

Connor steps outside and waits for Evan. He seems happier when they leave the store. Connor’s not sure why exactly.

* * *

Sabrina’s dad knocks on her door when she’s getting ready for dinner that night. He looks tired, but he’s smiling and holding an envelope. 

He hands it to Sabrina. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

He’s already given her a small pile of presents that morning, as well as a whole bunch of cash, so she’s not expecting anything else. She opens the envelope to reveal two plane tickets to San Francisco. 

Flying there tomorrow mid-morning and coming home on Monday afternoon. 

She looks at him. “You’re letting me skip school to go visit Grandma and Daada?”

He nods. “I thought you could do with a break,” he says seriously. “Your Daada called me to suggest it, and I thought it was a great idea, so I went and bought the tickets today.” 

Sabrina feels like crying for a moment, which would completely ruin her eyeliner. 

She gets up and hugs her dad tightly. 

“Thank you,” she says sincerely. 

The prospect of getting out of Orange County for a while seriously cheers her up. And spending time with her grandparents is always fun. Always good. 

It’ll be good to get away from her mom, too. 

She still isn’t speaking to her. 

It’s her birthday, and her mom hasn’t even said good morning. Hasn’t said anything to her. All the presents are officially from “Mom and Dad” according to the labels, but Sabrina recognizes her dad’s handwriting. Sees how the wrapping is kind of lopsided. 

It’s like her mom has just given up on her entirely. 

Like Sabrina refusing to play by her mom’s rules anymore has made Sabrina dead to her or something. 

It’s fucking heartbreaking. 

She’s seventeen today and her mom won’t even wish her happy birthday. 

But her grandparents want her to visit. Want to see her. And they’ll spoil her and dote on her and look after her and pay attention to her and…

Sure, she’s seventeen today, but it doesn’t mean she’s outgrown wanting the adults in her life to show her affection, fucking hell. 

“Have fun with your friends tonight,” Sabrina’s dad says. He smiles at her. “Use your credit card, okay? Order whatever you want and pay for the whole table. You deserve to have a nice night.”

“Is it okay that I’m not doing dinner with you and mom?” Sabrina asks, a little hesitantly. “I know that Mom doesn’t want to, but…”

Sabrina’s dad looks so sad. “When you get back from San Francisco,” he says, “then you and I will have dinner together, okay? Just the two of us.” 

Sabrina genuinely can’t remember ever having dinner with just her and her dad. 

Ever in her life.

She’s looking forward to it. 

When Sabrina gets to the restaurant, Alana’s already there. She’s not wearing her glasses, and has a nice dress on, and looks really beautiful. 

For the millionth time, Sabrina wishes it was Alana she was head over heels for. 

It would make her life so much easier.

“Happy birthday,” says Alana warmly, handing her a gift bag. 

Barely any time later, there are Connor and Evan. Connor’s wearing a black blazer over a black t-shirt and Evan’s in jeans, a shirt and a suit jacket, which is honestly a good look for him. Sabrina’s got her digital camera and manages to convince one of the wait staff to take a photo of them when they order appetizers. 

Evan and Alana have no idea how to pose for photos, but Connor’s got at least a vague idea. Connor and Sabrina end up getting a couple of photos together that Sabrina decides should go straight on her MySpace as soon as she gets home. 

If she puts them on her MySpace, Zoe might see them and it might… upset her. Sabrina knows that Zoe feels like Connor gets everything, like Connor always gets the attention. It must feel like a slap in the face that Sabrina’s suddenly hanging out with Zoe’s brother. 

Not as much as a slap in the face as Zoe calling her a dyke in front of the entire school, though. 

Fuck that. Fuck her. 

The food is good and they don’t run out of things to talk about and all three of them get Sabrina presents she likes, and she doesn’t feel like she’s having to watch what she says the whole time, doesn’t feel like she needs to pretend. 

It’s one of the best birthdays she’s had in a long time. 

She just wishes that Zoe was here, too. 

She wishes Zoe were with them. Were a part of this. Wishes that Zoe didn’t hate Connor and Evan, wishes she wasn’t such a bitch about Alana. If Zoe really knew these people, she wouldn’t…

_Stop kidding yourself,_ she tells herself sternly. _Stop kidding yourself, stop holding out for something that’s never going to happen. She made her opinion clear. She made her choice and she didn’t choose you._

_Let it go._

_Just let it go._

“So hey,” Sabrina tells them when they’re sharing churros with Mexican hot chocolate at the end of the meal. “I’m going to be away from school for a few days, just FYI.”

“Everything okay?” Evan asks immediately.

Sabrina smiles. “It’s actually really great,” she says. “I’m going to San Francisco for a long weekend to hang out with my grandparents.”

“That’s really cool,” says Connor with a smile of his own. “It’d be good to get away from all the bullshit here for a little while.”

“When are you back?” asks Alana.

“Tuesday,” Sabrina says. “My grandparents are awesome. They’re the nicest people. They’re taking me to Delhi this summer so I can see where my Daada grew up.”

“Delhi, as in India?” Evan asks, his eyes wide. “That is so cool. I’ve always wanted to visit another country.” His smile dims. “I don't even have a passport.”

Connor looks at Evan, his face all soft. “We’ll have to get you one,” he says after a while. “You want to see another country? We could drive to Mexico.” 

Evan looks at him, a little skeptically. “What would we do in Mexico?”

Connor shrugs. “Teenage debauchery? You can get to Tijuana in like 2 hours.”

“Terrible idea,” Alana says immediately. “People are always going to Tijuana to do phenomenally stupid things.” 

“We don’t have to do anything in Mexico,” Connor says to Evan. “You just said you wanted to visit another country. So let’s just drive to Mexico for the hell of it sometime.” 

Evan looks at Connor with these big, wide eyes, then smiles really big. “Sure. Okay, yeah, let’s go to Mexico.”

It’s so fucking cute Sabrina can barely stand it. 

Sometimes when she looks at the two of them, she wonders how on earth Evan can’t see how Connor looks at him. How he can’t know. 

It’s so obvious. 

But then there are moments like this, where Evan looks back, and Sabrina wonders if maybe he does know. 

And maybe he feels the same way. 

Then again, how the hell would Sabrina know? She thought that Zoe felt the same way that she did, but Zoe…

Zoe threw her away. 

Just tossed her away like she didn’t matter at all. 

And still, Sabrina wishes Zoe was here. 

She’s such a fucking disaster.

* * *

Friday morning, Zoe makes her customary walk past Sabrina’s locker. She’s not checking up on her or anything. She’s not. It’s just that she has to walk past her locker in order to get to her first class of the day. 

Sabrina’s not there. 

And when Zoe walks past the locker again, this time just before lunch, Sabrina is also not there. 

She’s… not in school today. 

Odd. 

It doesn’t make sense for her to be out. She obviously isn’t sick; she looked fine yesterday. 

Actually she looked gorgeous yesterday. Zoe had to try hard not to stare. She’s stopped straightening her hair and it’s been doing things to Zoe’s heart every time Sabrina walks by. 

But she wasn’t sick. 

At lunch, Connor, Evan, and Alana all seem cheerful enough. So probably nothing bad has happened. 

But Zoe still wonders. 

She tries to do some digging on Sabrina’s MySpace after school, but she doesn’t find anything. It keeps her distracted all night long, trying to figure out where Sabrina is. 

She worries about Sabrina’s shitty mom, who sent her to fat camp over the summer. She wouldn’t put it past Lisa Patel to try to send Sabrina somewhere to, like, un-gay her. 

Not that she should be cool with Sabrina being a dyke. Because obviously that is disgusting and should be, like, illegal or whatever. 

But Zoe’s heard that those places are horrible and mean and… 

Zoe hates the idea of Sabrina being in an awful place like that. 

She hates it. 

Zoe and Madison go to a party hosted by some senior on Friday night. Zoe gets pretty fucked up on some coke and some tequila, having a great time and dancing with Madison. She ends up dancing with Tommy for a while, and he does a body shot of tequila off of her stomach. Somehow, without her even realizing it is happening, people shove the two of them into a bedroom at the end of the hall and tell them not to come out until they are “finished.” 

Zoe sudden has this intense rush of fear that Tommy’s going to make her have sex with him. She wraps her arms around her middle and mumbles that she’s sort of cold. 

“Oh hey,” Tommy says. There’s a fluffy bathrobe on the back of the door. He hands it to Zoe and then goes and lies down on the bed. Folds his hands over his middle. “I’m not gonna do anything, don’t worry.” 

Zoe stares at him. 

“Maddie does this,” Tommy goes on to explain. “Tries to send me off with girls at parties…” 

Zoe did notice that. She never really questioned why Tommy’s always around his sister. It is kind of weird that he doesn’t really seem to hang with the other junior guys. 

“I… I know it makes me weird or whatever,” Tommy goes on. “But I don’t like the idea of hooking up with someone unless…” He looks embarrassed. 

“What?” Zoe says. 

“Unless I, like, actually like _like_ them. No offense, but uh. You’re not. My type?”   
  


“What’s your type?” Zoe asks, genuinely curious.

”Honestly I think nerds are super cute. Like when a g... girl knows shit about stuff? That’s hot.” Tommy’s face turns red. “Shit I’m high.” He frowns. “You try to tell anyone, I’ll kill you.” 

“Yeah,” Zoe says with a grin. “Sure.” 

“So… that new kid. Evan. Is he really gay?” 

Zoe shrugs. “I have no idea, honestly. He’s just… kinda obsessed with my brother.” 

Tommy nods. 

Zoe gets home super late after that party. She notices Connor’s light flicking off the moment she passes his door. 

Freak. 

By Monday, Sabrina is still not in school and Zoe is freaking the fuck out. Where is she? Is she hurt? Is she okay? Did she change schools? Go visit her grandparents? Decide to visit India out of where? 

Where the fuck is she?

Zoe spends the entire day hyperaware of the fact that Sabrina just isn’t in school. It deprives people of something to talk about. Sabrina’s coming out is still making the rounds, so naturally her sudden vanishing from school needs to be investigated. 

Zoe gets so many texts from people wanting to know where the hell Sabrina disappeared off to and it is really pissing her off. How the fuck should she know? She doesn’t talk to the dyke anymore. People are just freaking out because they think the reason she’s not at school is going to be interesting or embarrassing or scandalous. Or maybe that she buckled under all the gay pressure and switched schools or some shit. In all likelihood it’s probably just embarrassing. Like maybe she got her period really badly or something. 

Probably not though. She and Zoe usually got their periods at the same time. Zoe used to joke about it. Madison always weirdly felt left out because she didn’t cycle with them. Which is such a weird fucking thing to be jealous about. Like. Seriously. 

Maybe she got really gnarly food poisoning at her little dinner with Zoe’s freak brother. That would be sort of satisfying. It would make sense that Connor wouldn’t be sick. He pukes enough as it is that he probably wouldn’t even notice the difference. 

But then again Evan and Alana aren’t sick and she knows they all went together. She heard Connor telling their dad. Zoe resolves to ask Connor what the fuck is happening if Sabrina doesn’t come back on Tuesday. Maybe she got sick of all of the shit at school. Which Zoe tried to warn her would happen. 

Sabrina shows back up on Tuesday. Zoe tells herself she wasn’t worried and decides she will forget all about it.

* * *

Mr. Stevens stops Evan after English to remind him to check his email. 

“They’ll be contacting the winners of that essay competition today,” he reminds him. “So you should keep an eye on your inbox.”

Connor, who’s standing next to him, has a big grin on his face. Looks at Mr. Stevens challengingly. “They already contacted you, didn’t they.”

Mr. Stevens just smiles at Connor. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Evan doesn’t use his email a lot. He didn’t even have an email address until he moved to Newport. Now he’s got a school one and a personal one, which is so weird to him. 

No email addresses to two email addresses. 

He doesn’t really use his personal one, he tells Connor on the drive home, but Heidi said he should have one. “She helped me set up a Hotmail account.”

Connor nods. “Makes sense. That’s the one we used to set up your MySpace, right.”

Evan nods. “Yeah, I don’t use it for much else. I mean, I used it to sign up to LiveJournal, but I only really use that to read Liam’s stories.”

Connor’s face twists a little. “Liam from D.C, right?” he asks in this light tone that’s not really that light. 

Evan nods. “Well, Maryland, technically, but yeah.”

Connor nods. Looks a little annoyed. 

Evan’s kind of annoyed, too. Liam’s nice. They’ve been in touch pretty regularly since the workshop in D.C. and Liam always asks after Connor. Asks how he’s doing. 

Liam thinks that Connor’s really cool, so it kind of sucks that Connor’s so… dismissive of him. 

“Stories?” Connor asks, in that same light tone. “That’s cool. What does he write?”

“He writes stories about this TV show,” Evan explains. He doesn’t really get it but it seems to make Liam happy, so he’s on board. “Grey’s Anatomy? He writes about the characters and how they’re feeling, or things he thinks should have happened on the show. There was one he wrote where it was set in the Wild West and that was really interesting.”

Connor’s pulling into Heidi’s driveway now. Once he’s parked at the front of the house, he looks at Evan with a small smile, like he’s trying not to laugh. “Liam writes Grey’s Anatomy fanfiction?”

“Yeah, that’s what they call it,” Evan says, remembering. “He’s a good writer. He has, like, all these people leaving him comments and stuff?” He nods. “Most of it’s not terribly constructive. Lots of, like… less than three?”

Connor blinks. “What?”

Evan tries to explain. “Like, there’s the less than symbol, and the number 3, and I don’t get it.”

Connor actually does laugh at that. “Evan, that’s a heart.”

“It is?”

Connor laughs more. “Come on, let’s get inside. I’ll show you.”

They get settled in the kitchen. Evan opens his laptop, navigates to the bookmark he has for Liam’s LiveJournal, then scrolls down to the comments. Connor points it out and when Evan tilts his head…

Yeah, he can see how <3 looks like a heart. Kind of. 

“Honestly, I think it looks more like an ice cream cone,” he says matter of factly. 

“Or a really fucked up dick and some balls.”

Evan rolls his eyes. “Thanks for that.”

Connor looks at him. “So, you gonna go check your email?”

Evan shrugs. “I doubt I won. They probably won’t have emailed me.”

Connor looks unimpressed. “Mr. Stevens basically already told you you won. Come on, just check your email.”

Evan feels… weird. Uneasy. “I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

Something in Connor’s expression changes. “You’re an amazing essay writer,” he says softly. “You always tell me that my creative writing is good, but like. Your essays are a million times stronger than mine.”

“I still think you should have submitted something for this,” Evan mumbles, stubbornly not logging onto his email. “You’re an amazing writer.”

“I like poetry and short stories,” Connor says with a shrug. “Essays aren’t my thing.” He looks at Evan pointedly. “But they’re yours. Check your damn email.”

Evan bites his lip. “I’m going to f-feel so f-f-f-fucking stupid if I check my email and there’s n-nothing there,” he manages to choke out. He swallows hard. “I d-don’t… I’m not used to… to _wanting_ things, you know?”

He looks at Connor, who looks so sad. 

After a moment, Connor grabs the laptop. Goes to the bookmarks and clicks on the one for the school email page. Slides it back to Evan. 

“Log in.”

Evan shakes his head. 

“If there’s nothing there, then at least we know,” Connor says simply. 

Evan swallows again. “I don’t want to disappoint-”

“Never,” Connor interrupts firmly. “That essay was amazing, but even if it didn’t win, that doesn’t make you a disappointment.” He smiles a little. “It was a big deal for you to even submit it, dude. Putting yourself out there is scary as fuck.”

He’s not wrong. 

Annoyingly, Connor is not wrong a lot of the time. 

Evan logs on. 

There’s an unread email at the top of his inbox. 

He clicks it. 

Blinks. 

Slides the laptop over to Connor wordlessly. 

Connor looks at it, skimming over the words, then fixes Evan with a huge grin. 

“Dude. You won.”

“I won,” says Evan, a little helplessly. His heart is beating weirdly fast. 

“This is a statewide competition,” Connor says, impressed. “You didn’t just place, you… you _won_. Like, the whole thing.” He grins at Evan. “This is fucking huge, dude. It’s a really big deal.”

Evan feels a little like he’s floating, like he did when he was in the pool with Connor. It’s a weird, dreamy feeling, but it’s good. 

It’s _good._

He reaches for his phone in his pocket. Opens it to click on Heidi’s contact. 

Stops himself. 

She’s at work, he can’t just call out of the blue. 

Even though he wants to. 

Connor’s looking at him, this strange expression on his face. “Evan?”

He snaps his phone shut. “Heidi’s at work,” he says quickly. “I shouldn’t bother her.”

Connor’s face falls. “She’d want to know.”

“She’s working-”

“This is a big fucking deal,” Connor insists. “You want to call her, I can tell.”

“I do,” Evan admits. “I just don’t want to annoy her.”

“She’s going to be so fucking proud of you,” Connor says softly. He puts his hand on Evan’s shoulder and squeezes it a little. “Come on, man. Just call her.”

Evan takes a deep breath. 

Nods. 

Picks up his phone again and calls Heidi. 

She answers after a couple of rings. 

“Evan? Is everything okay?”

“Hi,” he says awkwardly. “I’m okay, everything’s okay, I just…” He takes a deep breath. “I just wanted to tell you that I won the essay competition.”

He can practically hear Heidi smiling. “You won? Evan, that’s amazing!”

Connor leans over. “He won the whole damn thing,” he calls out so Heidi can hear. 

“I did,” Evan confirms. “I, uh, I won the overall prize? So it’s being published in this literary magazine and I get, like, $500.” 

“I am so proud of you,” Heidi says, and he can still hear the smile in her voice, hear how genuinely pleased she sounds at all of this. It makes him feel warm. “We should celebrate. I’m going to make sure I’m out of here on time and we’re going out for dinner tonight, okay? Anywhere you want to go. Connor can come too.”

“You don’t have to-”

“Absolutely,” says Heidi firmly. “It’ll be great.” She pauses. “In fact, I’m going to start wrapping up here right now. I’ll leave in an hour and we’ll go anywhere you want to go. So start thinking about it!”

“Okay,” says Evan, a little overwhelmed by her enthusiasm but smiling. 

A lot. 

This is… good. 

This is really, really good. 

Connor smiles at Evan when he hangs up. “Told you she’d be proud of you,” he says, a little smugly.

“Do you want to come have dinner with us to celebrate?” Evan asks. “Tonight?”

Connor hesitates for a moment, then nods. “Yeah. Absolutely, I totally want to celebrate with you.”

“Heidi says we can go wherever,” Evan offers. “What do you like?”

Connor rolls his eyes. “It’s your celebration.”

“It is,” Evan says with a nod. “And what would make me happy is going somewhere where my best friend feels comfortable eating. What do you like?”

Connor looks a little nervous, a little uncomfortable, but he seems to be considering it. “That diner we go to sometimes?” he offers. “I know it’s not, like, super fancy, but I know there are things there I feel okay about eating.”

Evan nods. “That’s what’s important,” he says immediately. He smiles. 

Really smiles. Can’t stop smiling, like a total idiot. 

He’s just… 

Happy. 

This is really good. 

Connor smiles at him, too, this soft, fond smile, and Evan likes it. 

A lot. 

A _lot_ a lot. 

Something occurs to him. “I should text Liam,” he says, picking up his phone. “Let him know I won. I told him about the competition.”

Connor’s eyes widen. “Wow, you guys really are still close, then,” he says, in that same light tone from earlier. “You’re telling him about the essay competition and he’s letting you read his fanfic, that’s…” He shrugs. His smile dissolves. “Good for you.”

Evan puts his phone down. Frowns a little. 

“You’re jealous.”

Connor’s cheeks go bright red. He hangs his head. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “Sorry, I’m… I’m an asshole rich kid, I’m not good at, like, sharing?” He shrugs. Offers a weak smile. “As you probably know, back when you and Zoe were… whatever was going on there. It’s… I’m not good at sharing, especially when it’s someone important to me or whatever.”

Evan considers his next words carefully. 

He doesn’t want to make Connor feel bad, but…

“I only really talked to Liam because you weren’t there,” he admits quietly. 

Connor looks at him, his eyes wide. He looks immediately guilty. “Because I fucked off with Miguel and ignored you the whole damn workshop,” he mumbles. “Christ, I’m an asshole.”

“Liam is great,” Evan says, “but he’s not you, okay? He’s not… not nearly as important as you. And yeah, he’s one of the handful of people who know who I really am and shit, but…” He pauses. Tries to explain this properly. “It wasn’t a risk. Telling him. It didn’t matter if he thought it was… weird or bad or whatever. When I told him who I really was, he didn’t… his reaction didn’t matter.” He flinches. “That makes me sound like such an asshole. Liam’s my friend, and he matters to me now, it’s just… different. I don’t think I’m explaining it right.”

Connor shrugs. “I think I get it,” he says wearily. “You should have other friends, Evan. It’s selfish as fuck of me to want to, like, keep you all to myself.”

“That’s what I wanted in D.C.,” Evan says immediately. “For it to just be us. I thought it was going to be…” He clears his throat. Shrugs. “Then Miguel was there and he was all over you and I…” He smiles. Shrugs again. “I’m not good at sharing, either. When it comes to you. Just… you know, FYI or whatever.”

* * *

Connor grins sheepishly at Evan. He knows Evan’s not jealous for the same reasons he is but. It’s nice to know that he gets jealous too. 

Connor’s not _that_ much of a freak. 

He can live with that. 

He’s objectively glad that Evan is still in touch with Liam. If they move to D.C., Connor will feel better if he knows Evan already has a friend there. 

He… he’s trying to get over it. 

The D.C. thing. If they’re going to move, Connor’s not going to stand in the way. No matter what Evan says, Connor is not worth sticking around Newport for. They both know it. 

Liam texts Evan back, all excited for him. Connor takes some small satisfaction in being the first person to know, but he tries to just be normal about this. His best friend has another friend. That’s allowed. He needs to keep his head on. Not get upset about silly things. Evan deserves people. 

Heidi said that to Connor. In D.C. And she’s totally right. Connor knows she’s right. Evan deserves to have people. Not just Heidi and Connor. Liam ends up calling Evan and they talk for a few minutes so Liam can ask when the essay will be published. Evan talks happily, his voice light and grateful as Liam congratulates him again. Tells Evan that he’s awesome. 

Because he is awesome. Obviously. He’s the most awesome person. 

They read over Evan’s congratulatory email again when Evan and Liam hang up. It’s a big fucking deal that he won this contest. Not the money, though Connor’s sure that Evan is happy about that, but the prestige of winning a state wide competition. 

Evan deserves a win like this. His life has been really hard. He deserves a win. He deserves…. everything. 

All the good things. 

Connor… feels sort of like an asshole though because once Evan mentions something about college applications, Connor feels his mood kind of plummet. 

They haven’t really talked about college. 

Connor knows his parents expect him to go to college. He knows they expect him to go to a good school. But he never expected that he’d ever reach this point and last week his dad asked him if he wanted to set up some campus tours over spring break and Connor had shrugged and said he wasn’t sure. He’s not really even thinking that far ahead. 

But it opens up a lot of questions about the future. Should Connor be worrying about college? 

What if Evan _does_ go to D.C. after this year ends? What if he doesn’t, but then he goes far away for college? Will they still be friends if they never see each other? 

Evan says he’d still be Connor’s friend if they didn’t live next door to each other, but Connor… has some doubts. 

Evan’s the sort of person who is going to make a million friends in college. He would fit into that scene a lot more easily than Connor. He’s funny and kind and smart and he even mostly fits in around here, despite what he thinks. Connor however?

Connor never expected to live long enough to even apply. 

If he and Evan go to different colleges, then… then that’s probably it, isn’t it? 

He’ll move on. Find other friends. Leave Connor in the dust. 

Connor has no idea what he wants to do with his life. Part of him has been kicking around the idea of doing something with writing, but you can’t write poems or short stories for a living. 

Evan could do whatever he wanted. 

And there’s still this nagging feeling in the back of his head that he won’t make it there. That he isn’t cut out to get past high school. He doesn’t feel smart enough or okay enough to consider being on his own. His dad has to watch him all the time. Evan has to watch him all the time. He’s always on the precipice of disaster. 

Also he can’t seem to keep down anything he eats lately so there’s also a distinct possibility that he’s actually batshit crazy and has already tipped into disaster and nobody has noticed.

“Have you thought about where you’ll apply next year?” Evan asks him, still clearly caught up in the excitement. “I mean, I’m not really sure y-yet, but there’s a lot of good schools on the east coast. Did you l-like living there?”

Connor nods. “Yeah. It was fine I guess.” He chews on one of his cuticles. “Where are you gonna apply?”

Evan shrugs. His cheeks flush. “I’m not sure? Heidi… she said that she would, you know, pay for it but I’m not sure that I c-can ask her to do that?” He seems down suddenly. “I never thought I’d even m-make it to college so…”

Connor remembers their conversation in the pool suddenly. “What do you mean?”

Evan shrugs. He looks embarrassed. “I’m a-a nobody from Chino,” he says. “I never thought… I thought if I got through high sch-school I’d just. Get a job?”

He’s lying. 

Connor knows he’s lying. 

Evan’s so fucking obviously lying.

That’s not what he meant. 

He wants to probe. Wants to get Evan to tell him the truth. He’s not a good liar when it comes to Connor. And part of Connor needs to hear that they are alike, that they have something fundamental in common, that he’s not some freak of nature who can’t relate to anybody. 

But he… 

He also wants to go back to ten minutes ago when Evan was all excited about his huge accomplishment. So he doesn’t push. 

“Yeah,” he says distantly. “So hey maybe once you get that essay published you should send it to Angela and the other librarians? Back in Chino. I bet they’d be so excited for you.”

Evan flushes red. “I don’t want to _brag._ ”

“You should brag though,” Connor says. “You should parade up and down the streets with like a sash that says ‘total genius’ or whatever. Rub it in everyone’s faces. I’ll follow you around with a kazoo or some shit to make sure everyone is paying attention.”

Evan laughs at him. “You are _so_ weird.”

Connor frowns. 

He doesn’t know why but that stings a little. 

A lot. 

He… 

It just throws into sudden relief how clearly fucked up Connor is compared to Evan. How Evan is going to be fine after high school and Connor’s… Not sure he’ll even make it there. 

“I’m not sure I’ll go to college,” he volunteers suddenly. He doesn’t know why. 

“What?” Evan says. He sounds confused. 

“I dunno. School’s not really my thing. Maybe I’ll just become like… a vagabond or something.”

Evan looks crestfallen. “But you’re really smart.”

Connor shrugs. “I’m not. I’m stupid and _weird_ and.”

“Connor…” Evan’s frowning. “That’s not what I meant…”

“You’re right though,” Connor says, feeling stupider by the second. “I’m really weird. I don’t know if I’d like college. I’d probably just… end up flunking out and wasting everyone’s time. I mean, I can’t exactly picture myself, like, playing frisbee on the quad. Can you? Other guys don’t wanna be seen with me-”

“I didn’t mean you’re weird like…”

“Like too gay to function?” Connor says. 

“What?” Evan says, clearly not catching the reference. 

Connor needs to change the subject. Now. “Dude, I know it’s a chick movie but you need to see _Mean Girls_.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me then,” Connor says. It comes out really harsh. 

Evan’s face goes pale. “I d-d-don’t know -”

“You do.” 

Evan won’t look at him. 

“You didn’t think you’d make it to college?” Connor says, angrier still. “Well that’s a fucking familiar feeling, but maybe I’m just _weird,_ I dunno -” 

“Stop.”

“Don’t know why you think it’s okay to lie to me,” Connor goes on. “I know, okay? I’m not stupid, I know you think about it, I know you -”

“I don’t though!” Evan yelps. “I don’t think about it. I d-don’t. I’m n-not, I’m n-not l-l-like...”

“Like me?” Connor says dully. 

Fuck he… 

This conversation has gone off the rails in like twelve different ways and Connor feels like an idiot, like such an asshole, why can’t he just be fucking happy for his friend instead of ruining everything?

“That’s not what I…”

“No, I get it. I’m _weird._ I’m a-a freak or whatever and you don’t want to be associated with that kind of garbage so -”

“ _Stop_! Please stop,” Evan says, his voice desperate. He’s breathing a little heavily. They both are. Like they’ve run a race. 

“You won’t talk about it with me,” Connor says softly. “And I… You know everything about me. You know… all of it. Even the shit people at school don’t and… I don’t understand why you don’t trust me.” 

Evan opens and closes his mouth a few times. “I just… I _can’t_.” 

Connor crosses his arms over his middle. “Fine. Whatever. Forget it, I’m being stupid.” He sighs. Runs a hand through his hair. “Let’s just. We’ll go to dinner and we’ll be all excited about you winning, okay? Forget I said anything. I’m just… in a mood or whatever, ignore me, okay? You don’t have to tell me anything. I’m being an asshole. This is supposed to be, like, a good day so don’t let me ruin it okay?”

* * *

“You’re not…”

Evan blinks. 

For some reason, his eyes sting. His hands shake. 

It’s so fucking stupid. 

“You’re not ruining anything,” Evan continues, a little helplessly. “You… you have every right to…” He stops. Clenches his fists. Tries to get his hand to stop shaking. His heart rate to go down. Looks at Connor. “I trust you. It’s n-not that I don’t trust you. I just…”

Connor blinks. Swallows audibly. Evan can see the muscles in his neck move. 

“You can’t,” says Connor awkwardly. “It’s… whatever.”

“No,” Evan says immediately. “It’s n-not whatever, it’s…” He shrugs. 

Wishes he knew how to put it into words. 

Wishes he could make it make sense, somehow. 

Takes a deep breath. 

“I like facts,” he says after a while. “I like things I know are _true_ , and I don’t…” He blinks a few times. “I don’t al-always kn-know. Wh-what’s true and what’s j-j-j-just in my head and…” His eyes are still stinging. Fuck. “I d-d-d-don’t know how to talk about it I-I-I-I d-don’t have th-the w-w-words.”

Connor looks so fucking sad. 

And guilty. 

“We don’t have to talk about this right now,” he says, his voice short and sharp. He shakes his head. “You just… you just did something really fucking huge and really great, I’m an asshole for bringing down the mood-”

“If I knew how to talk about it, I would,” Evan interrupts. “W-w-with you. B-b-b-because I kn-know you won’t j-j-j-judge me, b-b-because I tr-trust you more than anyone.” He takes in a deep breath. “It j-j-just… scares me. Because of m-my mom.”

Connor’s face falls. Goes pale. “I know.”

Evan shrugs. “And-and-and my m-m-mom had a r-really rough l-life and had to… to take care of me and I w-was a r-really fucking cl-clingy kid and she d-didn’t have anyone and I…” He sighs. Looks at Connor. “I have people now. I h-have you, and Heidi, and I d-don’t…” He shrugs a little helplessly. “Th-this is the best my life has ever been. It d-doesn’t seem fair to… I…” He shrugs again. “It wouldn’t make sense.”

Connor looks… heartbroken. “It doesn’t work like that,” he says gently. “That’s not how it works, Evan. You can’t just… logic your way out of it.”

Evan doesn’t want to tell Connor he’s wrong. 

But… 

Obviously he is, because Evan can logic his way out of just about anything. 

Facts, logic. It’s how he operates. 

How he makes sense of things. 

Evan wipes his face. 

Connor puts his hand on Evan’s shoulder. 

“We don’t have to talk about this now,” he says again, his voice quiet. He pauses for a moment. “But I think that maybe we should. Maybe you need to.” Connor frowns, something in his jaw shifting. “And maybe, like, not just with me.”

Evan freezes. Shakes his head. 

Heidi tried to convince him to go to therapy after he got sick. 

He… he can’t do that. 

He just can’t. 

Can’t make that leap of faith, can’t let people see the worst of him, can’t…

He just can’t. 

He’s not brave like Connor. 

Evan wipes his face. 

Looks Connor in the eye. 

“So we’re gonna g-go to the diner tonight?” Evan asks, even though they’ve totally already decided that. 

Connor’s eyes widen. He looks a little surprised at the abrupt change of topic, but he doesn’t push. He looks kind of annoyed, but he doesn’t call Evan on it. “Yeah.”

Evan nods. “Cool. Maybe we could get gelato afterward. Eat it at the beach house.”

Connor looks… a little less annoyed. “I might not be able to eat it,” he confesses, “but we should definitely get you and Heidi some.”

“I’ll g-get the green one you like,” Evan offers, “and y-you can have, like, a spoonful or something.”

Connor smiles a little. “You don’t have to get the flavor I like. It’s your celebration.”

“And you’re my best friend,” Evan tells him. Insists. It’s really fucking important that he knows that. “Okay?”

Connor blinks again. Looks at Evan with an expression that he doesn’t understand. 

He wears that expression a lot these days. 

When Connor looks at him like that, Evan feels it somewhere in his gut. Kind of like an ache, but in a good way. 

He doesn’t know what it means. 

Doesn’t understand. 

But it’s not _bad_. Not bad at all. 

“I d-don’t think you’re _weird_ ,” Evan says after a moment. “I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have s-said that, I-”

“I suggested following you around with a kazoo,” Connor interrupts lightly. “That’s pretty goddamn weird.”

“Okay, so _that’s_ weird,” Evan admits. “But… you’re not. Not in, like, a b-bad way, not in a…” He frowns. Bites his lip. “I’m s-s-sorry I hurt you.”

Connor shrugs. “It’s whatever.”

Evan shakes his head. “No, it’s not.”

Connor sighs. Runs his hand through his hair. “I’m in a mood,” he says again. “I don’t know why. It’s totally not your fault.” He gives Evan this smile that’s small but sincere. “I really am so happy for you, Evan. I’m an asshole for ruining it.”

“You didn’t ruin anything.” 

Connor doesn’t look like he believes him, but he’s telling the truth. 

For once.

* * *

Heidi’s so proud she could scream. 

Evan deserves this. Deserves a big win like this. 

She’s so stupidly proud that she has to tell someone. Someone who’ll understand that it’s a big fucking deal. 

Before she can stop herself, she’s calling Larry. 

Larry answers immediately, sounding a little panicked. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” she assures him immediately. She has to laugh a little. “What does it say about our lives that a phone call automatically means bad news?”

Larry actually laughs at that one. “We do have teenagers, Heidi.”

“I’m actually calling to be horribly tacky,” she tells him, “and brag about Evan. He entered a statewide essay competition and he won.”

Heidi can hear the smile in Larry’s voice. “He did?”

“Won the whole damn thing,” she says happily. “First place, out of all the entries in California.”

“That’s incredible,” Larry says, sounding equally as happy. “That’s huge, Heidi, tell him congratulations from me.”

“I’m taking him out for dinner to celebrate,” Heidi says. “Connor was with him when he called to tell me and I said he should come, too. Is that alright?”

“Of course,” Larry says immediately. “Evan deserves to celebrate.” Larry sounds really happy. “And I think it’s good for Connor to be going out to eat. He went out to dinner for a friend’s birthday last week and said he had fun. Said it was good.” 

“That’s really good to hear,” Heidi says warmly. “That’s a big deal for him.”

“I think it might be getting better,” Larry says, something tentative and hopeful in his voice. “Things might be getting better for him. I was so scared after the whole debacle with his note on the school website. I thought that he might…” He trails off. 

Heidi knows exactly what he’s not saying. 

“I know,” she says gently. She laughs a little. “Honestly, I’m proud of Evan for not kicking anyone’s ass when that all went down. I thought for sure he’d end up punching someone.”

“I wouldn’t have blamed him,” Larry says immediately. He’s quiet for a moment. “It’s very clear to me how much he cares about Connor,” he continues finally. “And I wanted you to know how much I appreciate it. Connor deserves someone in his corner the way Evan is. And he’s even making other friends. That’s… that’s huge for him. It really is.”

“Connor’s good for Evan, too,” Heidi points out. “That kid was on a hair trigger when he first got here. Connor calms him down. Keeps him out of trouble.” She laughs. “Fuck, I was so worried when they first started hanging out, but now? I don’t know if Evan would have settled here at all if it weren’t for Connor.”

“I don’t know if Connor would have made it through the year if it weren’t for Evan.”

The two of them sit with that for a moment. 

Just… sit with that knowledge. 

It seems so stupid to look back and think about how they’d tried to warn them off each other. Heidi’s glad it didn’t stick. 

Really, really glad. 

“You’re doing good,” Larry says after a while. “With Evan. I know it’s not easy, and you haven’t done this before, and I can’t even imagine how strange it must feel to suddenly have this teenager out of the blue, but… you’re doing good. With Evan. Just so you know.”

“He’s a good kid,” Heidi says honestly. “He just needed someone to give him a chance. It’s all he needed.” She swallows hard. “I’m just so proud of him. He’s worked so hard. He deserves everything, Larry. I just want him to have everything he deserves.” 

“He is a good kid,” Larry agrees, something fond in his voice. He sounds apologetic as he continues. “I gotta get back to work, but thanks for calling me with this. I want to hear the good stuff.”

Heidi smiles. “We get so bogged down worrying about them sometimes,” she says with a smile. “But there’s just so much good stuff.”

* * *

“Evan, do you have a minute?” asks Mr. Stevens after English class ends. Connor looks at him, a little bewildered, and Mr. Stevens smiles at Connor. “It’s nothing bad, Connor, you can stay if you want.”

The rest of the class file out. Mr Stevens waits until they’re all gone, then looks at Evan. 

“So the organizers of the essay competition sent the school a certificate for you,” he says with a smile. “Along with the check with your prize money.” His smile gets bigger. “Congratulations, Evan. This is a really huge accomplishment. I knew you'd do well and it’s great to see that your talent is being recognized.”

Connor’s face breaks into this huge grin next to Evan. This big, huge grin that makes his eyes all squinty. 

It’s a good look on him. Really good. 

Evan looks back at Mr. Stevens. “Do I need to pick it up from somewhere?” he asks, a little confused as to what’s actually happening.

Mr. Stevens clears his throat. “The principal wants a photo,” he says, a little awkwardly. “With you and your certificate. Can I get you to stop by his office tomorrow before school?”

Evan feels his heart start to beat too fast. “Do I have to?”

Mr. Stevens looks sympathetic. “I managed to talk him out of presenting it in front of the whole school, but… yeah, he’s gonna want a photo. For the school newsletter.”

“The school newsletter?” Evan repeats, genuinely alarmed now. “Really?”

Mr. Stevens looks at Connor for the tiniest moment, then back to Evan. “This is a big student success,” he says. “It makes sense for it to be in the school newsletter. I figured that you wouldn’t want the certificate presented in the school assembly.” 

“You figured right,” Evan says immediately. 

Mr. Stevens smiles. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he says. “But a little bit of fuss isn’t so bad, right? It’s a huge accomplishment.” 

Evan shrugs. Feels his cheeks go pink. “I’ll stop by the principal’s office tomorrow morning,” he tells him. “Thanks for letting me know.”

Connor takes them through the Starbucks drive through on the way home to celebrate. Evan’s still trying to get his head around this whole school newsletter business. 

“I don’t think my old school even _had_ a newsletter,” he says as they’re waiting for their drinks. “It’s kind of weird to me.”

“The school could do with some good publicity,” Connor says matter-of-factly. “My dad said that a lot of parents are really concerned about bullying, after…”

He trails off. Looks embarrassed. 

Evan feels this weird cold feeling. 

“So they’re just trying to distract people,” he says dully. “That’s what it is.”

Connor’s eyes widen. He looks horribly guilty. “It’s not just a distraction,” he says immediately. “This is a genuinely big deal, Evan.” He clears his throat. “They always want to put success stories in the newsletter. It’s totally normal.”

Evan assumes that it is. 

It still feels weird, though. 

He goes to the principal’s office the next morning. Gets his certificate and his check. The office lady takes his photo with the principal shaking his hand and it’s awkward as hell. 

A few days later, the school newsletter comes out. 

He groans when he sees the picture. Connor laughs a little. 

“You look so uncomfortable,” he points out. 

Evan sighs. “This will haunt me forever.”

Connor’s face goes white. 

Drains of color. 

Evan looks at him and frowns. “What?”

Connor points at the second paragraph. 

_Evan Hansen is a junior who transferred from Chino Public High School at the beginning of the school year. Since enrolling at Harbor, he has achieved consistent academic success, including being selected for the James Madison Young Writer’s Workshop in Washington D.C. in early January. Harbor High School is committed to providing a safe learning environment and high quality education to our students. Evan’s success is a testament to the hard work of our teaching staff and our commitment to excellence in academic achievement._

His heart stops. 

He thinks it actually stops. 

What the fuck. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck. 

Connor looks as freaked out as Evan feels. 

“Did they just…”

“Yeah,” Evan manages to say, his throat dry. “Guess y-you w-w-were right about w-w-wanting to d-d-d-d-d-distract people.”

He feels weird and cold and prickly and…

The fucking school newsletter just told everyone where he’s from. 

Where he’s really from. 

The school newsletter just let everybody know that Evan’s been lying for months. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! at the Disco  
> Chapter title from "Sophomore Slump or the Comeback of the Year" by Fall Out Boy


	44. Your Secret’s Out And The Best Part Is It Isn’t Even A Good One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word gets around. Cynthia goes on the offensive.

“We should put together a plan of attack,” Alana says seriously when she sits down at their lunch table. Sabrina probably should have seen this coming, in all honesty. 

Historically, Alana is incapable of inaction when faced with a problem or injustice.

And this bullshit with the school newsletter is definitely both of those things. 

“No one reads the fucking school newsletter,” Connor says, but he sounds uneasy. Unconvinced. “Like, no one at school reads it.”

“I read it,” Alana says immediately. “It’s important to keep informed.”

“W-we only r-read it b-because of my essay,” Evan says. He looks miserable. Fucking miserable. Sabrina hates it so much. He frowns deeply. “N-no one has s-said an-anything t-t-to me about it.”

His stutter seems worse today, Sabrina notes a little sadly. It had been getting better. A whole lot better. 

This just… blows. 

Really fucking blows. 

Seriously, fuck whoever in administration decided that they needed to put the name of Evan’s old school in the school newsletter. Fuck them. Why would that even be important?

“It’s classism,” Alana says instantly. “They want to show that Harbor is a better school. That they can take some kid from Chino and turn him into a scholar because of how great the school is. It’s self-congratulatory and elitist and doesn’t take into consideration the fact that Evan is exceptionally intelligent and works hard.”

“M-m-m-m-m-my gr-grades,” Evan says weakly. “Th-th-th-th-they…”

He trails off. His face goes red and he looks at the table. 

Sabrina hates it. 

Connor puts his hand on Evan’s shoulder. Squeezes it lightly. “Your grades are better here,” Connor says quietly. “Sure. And yeah, it’s a way better school. But, like… you were living with your dad. Sleeping in the library sometimes to avoid getting your ass kicked. Didn’t you say that made you late for school a lot? That’s… you don’t have to do that anymore, because you're safe with Heidi. The school being all ‘wow, aren’t we great, look at how we changed this kid’s life’ is bullshit because it wasn’t them. It was your hard work, and feeling safe for the first time in, like, ever. This is bullshit.”

Evan looks at Connor. Nods. Takes in a deep breath. “Y-yeah.” He shrugs. “I m-mean, it is a g-g-good school. The… ac-actual sch-school part. The p-p-people all k-kinda suck. Pr-present company ex-excluded.”

Alana frowns. “There has to be something we can do. There’s a school board meeting next week. I’m the student representative, I could… maybe something around privacy?”

“I don’t know if that would help,” Sabrina says. She looks around the cafeteria. No one’s looking at them, not really, except for Jared Kleinman, but he’s always looking at their table.

He’s weirdly obsessed with Connor, which Sabrina thinks is creepy as hell and potentially a little bit gay. Which is ironic, considering that she recognizes his handwriting and he’s definitely responsible for some of the graffiti on her locker. 

If there’s anyone who could get to the bottom of this, it’s Jared fucking Kleinman, Sabrina realizes, feeling a little cold at the thought. 

He’s sitting at a table with Zoe and Madison. Tommy and Chad are there, too.

A month ago, Sabrina would have been sitting with them. 

Jared seems to see her looking. He raises his eyebrows. Mouths something insulting at her. She rolls her eyes, gives him the finger and moves so she’s out of his line of sight. 

Evan and Connor seem to notice the interaction. Both of them look uneasy. 

Sabrina turns to Alana. “People aren’t talking about it,” she says. “Not yet, anyway. So there’s not a lot we can do. If we try to, like, change the narrative while no one’s talking about it, it sounds desperate. Like there’s something to hide.”

“It w-w-w-was al-al-al-always g-g-going t-t-to…”

Evan stops. His shoulders slump. 

It’s like he doesn’t have the energy or the will to finish the sentence. 

“Fuck what anyone here thinks,” Connor says, his jaw set determinedly. “The only people who fucking matter are sitting at this table. We know who you are, and we think you’re awesome. Everyone else can go fuck themselves.”

Evan looks at Connor, then at Sabrina and Alana, who both nod. He smiles a little, but it doesn’t last long. 

“I j-j-j-just d-d-d-don’t w-w-w-want....” He stops. Shrugs. Bites his lip. “Heidi,” he says, his voice so careful. 

Connor looks so sad. “We’ll talk to her after school,” he says. “Okay? 

“Most of the parents don’t read the school newsletter,” Sabrina says. “It’s not a big deal.”

Connor looks at Sabrina pointedly. 

Because that’s a lie. 

That’s a huge fucking lie, parents definitely read the newsletter. She’s heard her mom bitching about shit in the school newsletter a million times. Even the most innocent of details can be jumped on by these vultures. 

And Connor knows that. 

Connor’s mom is the biggest vulture of them all. 

Sabrina knows she shouldn’t lie, but she just… doesn’t like seeing Evan so upset. 

She waits for Connor to call her out, but he doesn’t. He just looks at her, this unhappy expression on his face. Frowns a little. 

Sabrina’s pretty sure he’s thinking what she’s thinking, and that’s that the worst is yet to come.

* * *

The whole day has been non-stop. Completely flat out. Heidi’s exhausted by the time she gets back to her office after a court appearance. She’s thinking about making a Starbucks run when her office door opens and Karen the office assistant stands there, her face red. 

“I’m sorry, Ms. Herzberg, I-”

Cynthia Murphy pushes right past Karen and into Heidi’s office, Jenny Kleinman and Heather Whittington at her heels.

Heidi stands up immediately. 

She has no idea what the fuck is going on but something tells her it’s not going to be good. 

Cynthia hands her a copy of the Harbor school newsletter. “You need to explain yourself,” she says immediately. “Explain who that kid who’s living with you is, because he sure as hell isn’t your nephew.”

Heidi feels her whole body go cold. 

She takes the newsletter and looks at it. On the front page, there’s Evan’s picture. He looks awkward as hell, holding the certificate from his essay competition win. 

She scans the text below quickly until she spots it. 

_ Evan Hansen is a junior who transferred from Chino Public High School at the beginning of the school year.  _

What the fuck. 

What the fuck, what is Greg Sanson thinking?

She skims through the rest of the article. It’s self-congratulatory bullshit about how Harbor has provided a ‘safe learning environment’. Basically taking credit for his success.

Fucking hell.

Fucking hell, this is  _ bullshit. _

“I can’t believe I didn’t see this sooner,” says Cynthia, something almost triumphant in her voice. “I did some digging and found out that your brother and his wife moved to Germany last October. With their son  _ Aaron _ .” She looks right at Heidi. “You’ve been lying for months. Who is Evan really, Heidi?”

“He’s a kid who needed someone to take care of him,” Heidi says, crossing her arms. “So I took care of him. I’m taking care of him, I’m his legal guardian.”

“And where exactly did you find this kid?” Heather Whittington challenges. “On the side of the road?”

Heidi decides not to mention that she did, in fact, pick him up off the side of the road after his dad kicked him out. “Obviously I got him from a vending machine, Heather.” 

“You don’t go anywhere,” Cynthia continues. “Except work. Everyone knows that you’re a workaholic, you don’t do  _ anything  _ except work. Makes it pretty obvious where you met Evan, doesn’t it.”

“And you’re a public defender,” Jenny Kleinman chimes in, looking at her pointedly. “The kind of people you’re dealing with on a daily basis are not the kind of people we want associating with our children.”

“So what did Evan do?” Cynthia demands. “What kind of criminal did you bring into our community?”

Heidi refuses to budge. Refuses to make things worse. 

Refuses to give them an inch here. 

“He’s a sixteen year old kid,” she says firmly. “He’s a sixteen year old kid who has more than proved himself. He just won a statewide essay competition.” She fixes Cynthia with a look. “He’s your son’s best friend.”

Cynthia shakes her head. “He’s not going anywhere near my son again-”

“Oh, so you’d rather Connor was buying drugs off Jared again?” 

Jenny flinches. Her face goes red. “How dare you talk about my son when you’re the one who-”

“If he’s not buying off Jared, then I’m sure he can get something from Tommy’s stash,” Heidi continues, looking at Heather. “How much money have you spent paying off the cops so they don’t bring him in when they catch him with coke, Heather? At this point it would be cheaper to just send him to rehab.” She looks at Cynthia. “You sent Connor to the same one you were in over New Year’s, right?”

Heather turns bright red. Cynthia looks like she wants to slap Heidi. 

Heidi would quite like to slap her, in all honesty. 

“The community deserves the truth about Evan,” Cynthia says after a moment. 

“No one in this community wants the truth,” Heidi replies instantly. “Because the truth is that every single person in this damn place has more skeletons in their closet than a sixteen year old kid who needed someone to care about him.” She looks at all three of them carefully. Takes some satisfaction in the fact that both Heather and Jenny go a little pale. “No one wants the truth. Examine it too closely and things never go well. 

Cynthia takes a step toward Heidi. “This isn’t over, Heidi. I’m going to find out. Do yourself a favor and come clean now.”

Part of Heidi thinks that maybe she should. 

But Evan’s a minor. He’s a kid. He’s protected.

And it’s not like Larry’s going to let her hire a PI again. Not after the bullshit with David. 

She’ll call Larry the minute Cynthia leaves. Give him a heads up. 

She’ll do what she needs to in order to protect her kid. 

“You know what they say about throwing stones and glass houses,” she says to the three of them. “I’d be careful if I were you. Now get the hell out of my office.”

* * *

Connor goes home for dinner like he’s supposed to. His mom’s not home which is weird. She’s probably out buying more liquor to hide in the house, Connor thinks bitterly. 

Whatever. 

He and his dad get started on dinner. They’re making a concession to Connor’s mother’s weird dietary whatever and tonight they’re making lasagna with gluten free noodles. They’re made of chickpeas or something. 

Connor bets it’ll taste awful. 

His mom strides in as Connor and his dad out the lasagna into the oven. She looks… 

Connor doesn’t know how she looks but he definitely doesn’t like it. Like. Pleased with herself. 

She dresses a salad without a word. Helps Connor to set the table. Zoe’s fucking with some garlic bread. She’s burnt the edges somehow. She’s definitely high. Her eyes are dull and glassy and far away. Connor hates it. 

Connor doubts that the garlic bread is gluten free. 

They all sit down to dinner when the food is ready. Connor flinches as his mom’s chair scrapes against the floor. She smiles at him and he immediately knows something is wrong. 

“So,” she says. “Your friend Evan won an essay contest. I saw it in the Harbor Newsletter.”

Connor is positive he’s not actually putting lasagna on his plate. It’s actually his heart. It’s jumped out of his chest and splattered onto his plate, spewing blood onto his salad and splattering everyone around him. 

He’s starting to get a little weird in the head, Connor realizes. 

“Uh. Yeah,” Connor says. “It’s cool. Right? It’s a statewide contest and he won the top prize.”

His dad nods. “Heidi’s very proud. Did you know it’s going to be published in a literary magazine?”

His mom smiles this feral smile. “What interests  _ me _ about this,” she says happily. “Is that the article says Evan moved here from  _ Chino.” _

Zoe looks up sharply. “What? He said he’s from Seattle.”

“That’s what I thought,” Connor’s mom says softly. Her voice is like ice. He genuinely shivers. Connor thinks he’s dying. He’s freezing to death under her icy glare. Connor glances nervously at his dad, who calmly puts down his glass of water.

“Probably a misprint,” his dad says. 

“Interesting. Because I made a few calls today and it seems Heidi’s brother moved to Germany in October.  _ With  _ his son. Aaron.”

Fuck fuck fuck fuck. 

Connor’s going to lose it. 

His mom turns to him. “Heidi herself confirms that Evan isn’t her nephew,” she adds nastily. 

“What?” Zoe says. “What the fuck. Who  _ is  _ he then?”

“Well I think we would all like to know that Zoe,” his mom says. “Care to enlighten us, Connor? Who  _ is  _ this friend of yours?”

Connor can’t breathe. “Look, he’s. Nobody okay? Heidi’s his legal guardian. That’s all I know.”

“Don’t lie to me,” his mom says coldly. “Where did she find this kid? Who is he? One of her juvenile delinquents? And what the hell is he doing living with her?”

“Cynthia, calm down,” his dad says. “Heidi wouldn’t bring someone dangerous into the community.”

“You _ knew?”  _ his mom says. Her eyes narrow. Connor’s dad seems to realize his mistake immediately. 

And then he doubles down like a  _ moron.  _ “Yes. I knew. And she doesn’t owe anyone an explanation. She’s taking care of a kid who needed a home. I think that’s pretty fucking decent of her, don’t you?”

“How long have you known?” Cynthia asks, ignoring him. 

“Wait sorry. Evan’s not her nephew?” Zoe says, astonished. “What the hell? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“I want to know who his parents are,” his mom says, her voice hard. “And what he’s done to them that they aren’t raising this kid.”

Connor tries to swallow but he’s like. Choking. On his heart. On his spit. He’s gonna be sick. “I don’t know,” he chokes out. “I don’t know anything about his parents.”

It’s a lie but he doesn’t care. He’ll lie to her face. He’ll do whatever needs doing to protect Evan. 

“Bullshit you don’t Connor.” His mom shakes her head. “I knew something was off about him. The stuttering and the fact that he knows  _ nothing  _ about how things are done around here. He’s an outsider. He could be dangerous. And you,” she says pointing a finger with a perfectly manicured nail directly at Connor, “You are going to tell me what you know this instant.”

“No!” Connor says. “I’m not telling you shit. You’re just going to use it to get him in trouble. He doesn’t deserve that.”

“I have a right to know who my children are associating with,” his mom says. 

“Yeah because you care so much about Zoe hanging out with a  _ drug dealer _ ,” Connor spits. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” his mom sniffs. 

“Jared Kleinman is a drug dealer!” Connor protests because she  _ knows  _ this. She knows. He’s told her. He’s told her so many times. 

“You must be mistaken.”

“He was  _ my  _ dealer! You think I was so high I didn’t know who I was buying from?” Connor shouts. He points at Zoe. “Ask her! Ask Zoe.”

“Leave me out of this,” Zoe says. “I’m not the one who might be hanging out with a homeless guy _. _ ”

Connor is going to lose his mind totally. “You went on a date with him,” he says to Zoe. “Bet he didn’t seem so homeless when you were throwing yourself at him like the desperate skank you are.”

“Connor that’s enough,” his dad says quietly. 

“I don’t want you around that boy anymore,” his mom says. “You’re going to stop seeing Evan immediately.”

“Like hell I am,” Connor says. “I’m not going to stop being his friend just because you’re totally overreacting.”

“I’m overreacting? We don’t know who he  _ is!  _ Chino is hardly a desirable place to grow up. He could be a violent criminal,” his mom says. 

Connor feels like he could  _ kill  _ her. “Fuck this. No. I’m not going to stop talking to him.”

“Well then I suppose we’ll need to start looking into finding you another school out of state,” his mom says. “Because you’re not associating with Heidi Herzberg’s latest bad decision anymore.”

Connor looks at his dad helplessly. 

“We’re not sending him away,” his dad says firmly. “Are you out of your mind, Cynthia?”

“Are  _ you _ , Larry? Letting our children hang around with someone who could be a criminal for all we know?”

“Evan is a good kid,” Larry responds through gritted teeth. “And I think Connor is old enough and smart enough to make good decisions about who he associates with.”

“Is that so?” his mom spits. “Because _Miguel_ was such a good influence. Or have we forgotten why he had to leave Hanover?” 

Connor feels his mouth drop open. How fucking  _ dare  _ she. 

“He has no sense about this sort of thing. Always attracted to these lowlifes and drug addicts-”

“I’m  _ right here, _ ” Connor shouts. “And  _ I’m _ a fucking drug addict!”

“Be quiet,” his mom snaps. “You’re not a drug addict because you took a few too many pills.”

Connor feels his jaw drop. The mental gymnastics required for her to come up with  _ that  _ theory are genuinely baffling. 

“Evan’s my friend. I’m not going to stop talking to him.”

“Well who the fuck is he?” Zoe says. “I went  _ out  _ with him, what the  _ fuck  _ Connor?”

“He’s a kid, okay?” Connor says. “He’s just a kid from Chino and Heidi’s taking care of him.”

“God imagine if he’s been blackmailing her,” his mom whispers. 

“He’s not fucking blackmailing her!” Connor growls. “What is  _ wrong  _ with you?”

“Cynthia, this is enough. I won’t have you going after Heidi like this again. Didn’t you embarrass yourself enough last time?”

Connor doesn’t know what he means. Neither, it seems, does Zoe. They both look between their parents with wide eyes. 

“I had my reasons to be suspicious,” Cynthia says. “Nobody drops dead out of nowhere in their forties.”

“He had a heart condition,” his dad shouts. He’s pissed. His face is all red. Connor hasn’t heard him yell like this in a while. “And I know you were upset that he died, but so was I. He was my best friend, but you didn’t see me hiring a private investigator to go after his grieving widow.”

“What the  _ fuck _ ?” Connor shouts, angrier now. “You did  _ what?  _ What the hell is the matter with you?”

Zoe even looks horrified. “You sent a private investigator after Aunt Heidi after Uncle David died?” 

His mom shakes her head. “Don’t change the subject. Connor, you’re going to stay away from Evan or I’ll send you to stay with your grandmother.”

“That’s not fair,” Connor says. 

“It’s not  _ happening,”  _ his dad counters. “Kids, your mom and I need to have a conversation. Go finish eating in your rooms.”

Connor doesn’t need to be told twice. 

Of course he doesn’t actually go to his room. He dumps his (admittedly gross) lasagna into the garbage, stops in the bathroom to throw up the little of it he ate because his stomach is twisting into painful knots, and then heads out of the house. 

He goes over to Heidi’s and rings the bell anxiously. Evan comes to the door. He looks upset. 

“Hi,” Connor says. “I’m sorry to just like. Show up but. Uh.” There’s no good way to say this. “My mom knows.”

He doesn’t have to explain. Evan’s face falls. 

Fuck.

* * *

Evan and Connor sit at the living room table for a bit and just kind of… process. 

“What did she say?” Evan asks finally. “She-she probably t-told you to stay away from m-me, right?”

He doesn’t even need Connor to answer. The look on his face says it all. 

“She can go to hell, I’m not going anywhere,” Connor says fiercely. “And she doesn’t know who you are exactly, she just-”

“Knows you’re not my nephew,” says Heidi wearily, coming into the room and sitting next to Evan. “She came to see me today with Jenny Kleinman and Heather Whittington.” She sighs. “They travel in packs, apparently.”

Evan looks at Heidi. “You could have s-said something.”

Heidi looks pained. “I didn’t really know what to say,” she admits. “All she knows is that you’re not my nephew, that you’re a kid from Chino who I’ve taken guardianship of. She assumes we met through my work, which means she assumes you have a record, but you’re a minor. Your records are sealed.” 

“Good,” says Connor, sounding a little relieved. “That’s… that’s good? Not that Evan did anything that bad, but it’s still…”

“It’s still a record,” Heidi agrees. “And it gives people the wrong impression.” She looks at Evan. Reaches out and takes his hand. “You have come so far since I first met you, honey. Your grades are amazing, your attendance is nearly perfect, you haven’t punched  _ anyone  _ since the first day of school. Your track record at Harbor should speak for itself here. Should speak for the fact that you just needed a chance.”

Connor looks… a little pissed. “The school didn’t do shit for him,” he argues. “It’s just using him for good publicity and now my mom is going to come in and try to ruin everything.”

Heidi shakes her head. “Your mom isn’t going to ruin everything,” she says firmly, “because she can’t. Because I won’t let her.” She looks at Evan, then back at Connor, her face determined. It’s the same expression she wore when she and Evan walked into the courtroom for his hearing back in September. “As long as we stay calm, keep our wits about us and don’t do anything stupid, she has no leg to stand on. Just suspicions and accusations.”

“That’s all it takes around here,” Connor mutters. “People suck.”

“Yeah,” Heidi says unhappily. “They can.” She looks at Connor and frowns a little. There’s a genuinely conflicted expression on her face. “I don’t really want to ask this,” she says after a moment, “but do you know what she plans to do?”

Connor shrugs helplessly. “I really don’t,” he says, looking at Evan with this devastated expression. “She told me to stay away from Evan, which I’m not going to do, but…” He sighs. Goes pale. “She threatened to send me to Granny’s in New Hampshire but there’s no way Dad’s going to let her do that. I think he thinks she’s totally lost it.”

“That’s if she ever had it in the first place,” Heidi mutters. She immediately winces. “Sorry, Connor, sweetheart, that wasn’t fair of me. She’s your mom, it’s not fair for me to…” She frowns deeper. “It’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair,” Connor says, his voice shaking, “is that Mom hired a private investigator to follow you around after David died. That is so fucked up, I am so fucking sorry.”

Evan looks between the two of them in alarm. 

Heidi looks near tears and Connor looks horrified and…

What the fuck. 

What the actual fuck? 

Mrs. Murphy did what? 

“She hired a p-private investigator?” Evan asks. He dreads the answer, but has to ask the question anyway. “Why?”

“She thought I killed him,” Heidi says flatly. “Thought it was suspicious that a healthy man in his forties would just… die like that.” Her eyes fill with tears immediately. 

Evan can’t fucking stand it. He hates seeing Heidi cry. 

He wraps an arm around her shoulder a little awkwardly. “That is so m-messed up,” he tells her quietly. “I-I’m s-so sorry.”

Heidi looks like she’s trying desperately not to melt down. Takes in a deep breath. “I thought I was going crazy,” she admits. “David was dead and I was all alone in this huge house and I thought I was going crazy, because I could tell that someone was watching me.” She looks like she’s got more to say, but she doesn’t. Just steadies herself, then rests her head on Evan’s shoulder briefly. 

“Fuck,” Connor mutters. “Fuck, my mom is such a bitch, what the fuck?”

The way he’s saying it sounds like he’s only just figuring this out, which Evan thinks is genuinely insane. It’s been pretty obvious from day one that Connor’s mom is just the worst. 

Still, sending a private investigator after your ex’s widow is one hell of a dick move. 

It takes a few moments, but Heidi collects herself. 

“As much as I hate to ask,” she says to Connor, “if you hear that she’s planning anything, could you let me know?” She winces. Rubs her face. “Fuck, I hate this, I hate… I feel like I’m asking you to spy on your mom, that’s not…” She blinks a few times. “Just. If she starts talking about… trying to get him kicked out of school or anything like that, I’d appreciate the heads up.”

“Of course,” says Connor instantly. “If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”

* * *

The next day, Heidi’s phone rings in the middle of the morning. 

“Heidi Herzberg.” 

“This is Celeste Beck calling,” says a crisp and professional voice. “Do you have time for a meeting this afternoon? I have some things I’d like to discuss with you.”

Wow. Okay. 

“May I ask what this is about?” Heidi asks, as politely as she can manage. She doesn’t really know Celeste that well. Their paths have crossed in society, sure, but it’s not like they hung out or anything. She’s not really part of Cynthia’s clique of moms. 

Heidi wasn’t really, either, but Cynthia used to pretend that Heidi belonged back when David was alive. 

“Oh,” says Celeste, sounding surprised. “I assumed you knew. My apologies. There’s a school board meeting scheduled for Tuesday and Cynthia Murphy has added an agenda item on student safety.”

Heidi feels her heart start to race. “Of course she did,” she mutters. 

“While I don’t know exactly what she’s planning,” Celeste says bluntly, “I’m somewhat aware of your situation with Evan. Alana is very fond of him and has some concerns that Cynthia is campaigning to get him removed from Harbor. From my experience, I’m inclined to agree.” 

“Fuck,” Heidi mutters. “Shit.” 

“The best defense is a good offense,” says Celeste, her tone no-nonsense. “We should discuss strategy. When can we meet?”

Heidi’s still reeling a little, but she’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Celeste Beck is every bit as intense as her daughter with a much stronger grasp on how to play the society game. She doesn’t know why Celeste has decided she’s in Heidi’s corner on this, but she’ll take what she can get. 

“I’m free just after 2,” she says. 

“Perfect,” says Celeste. “I’ll come meet you at your office.”

With that, the phone call is over and Heidi’s left sitting there wondering if she hallucinated the whole thing. 

Cynthia Murphy is trying to get Evan kicked out of Harbor by kicking up a fuss at the school board meeting. 

Celeste Beck wants to help stop that from happening. 

Even for someone like Heidi’s who has never really been up with society gossip, she knows that Cynthia versus Celeste is one hell of a face-off. 

Real clash of the titans shit, right there. 

Heidi forces herself to focus on her work but it’s not exactly easy when it’s all she can think about. She gets out of a meeting offsite at quarter to two then heads back into the office to find Celeste Beck already there waiting for her. 

She has to admit, the woman has style. She’s immaculately presented and looks at least a full decade younger than she has to be in order to have a seventeen year old. 

She’s also kind of terrifying. 

Celeste shakes her hand. She has one hell of a handshake. “I assume you haven’t eaten,” she says, leading Heidi out of the office immediately. “I’ve booked us a table at The Grand. I’m friends with the chef, he knows that you keep kosher.” 

Heidi tries very hard not to let on how damn weird this is for her. It’s a very surreal feeling to be in the back of a car with Celeste’s driver in the front, heading to one of the fanciest restaurants in the area. There’s something about the way Celeste carries herself that makes Heidi think that she’s not even going out of her way to impress Heidi, this is just how she goes about her life. 

The Becks are one of what some people call The Big Three - the three richest families in the whole area, along with the Kleinmans and, of course, the Nichols. It’s an important distinction to people that the Nichols are rich, not the Murphys. Larry does exceptionally well for himself, of course, but Cynthia inherited all of her parents' wealth. Most of it is tied up in real estate and investments, but it’s nothing to sneeze at. 

Newport Beach's high society is predominately white. Almost exclusively. There’s the Becks, and Aaron Patel, and that’s it. Heidi’s heard some pretty racist shit about all three of them said, but never to anyone’s faces. 

It’s extremely easy to be very intimidated by Celeste Beck. Even more so when they’re being escorted to their own private room at The Grand. It’s on the top floor with a stunning view of the ocean. 

Celeste orders expensive champagne for the two of them without even asking. 

Heidi wants to say something, but she isn’t sure what. 

She’s trying to figure out what on earth to say when Celeste opens her purse and pulls out a manila folder. She opens the folder and slides it over to Heidi wordlessly. 

Heidi flicks through the pages. Photos, dated and timestamped. Screenshots of MySpace profiles. 

Documented evidence of how cruel teenagers can be. 

It’s not just about Alana. There’s evidence of bullying of several other students. Quite a few, actually. Names she recognizes. 

Connor. 

Connor’s note. Connor’s locker. 

It makes Heidi’s stomach churn. 

It’s even worse when she sees photos of Evan’s locker. 

Fuck. Fucking hell. 

Celeste looks at her, her chin held high. “If Cynthia Murphy wants to take the school to task over student safety,” she says, her voice smooth and firm, “then we will absolutely be having a conversation about student safety. A real conversation.” She leans in a little. “I’ve spoken with some other parents who share my concerns. It’s gauche to be declaring some kind of turf war, I’m aware, but I also know that Cynthia has her minions and I’m not stupid enough to go up against her unprepared.” 

Heidi blinks. “You really want to do this?” 

Celeste smiles. “Honestly, Heidi, you’re doing me a favor here. I’ve wanted to do something about this for years but there’s never been an opportunity like this. Cynthia’s going around telling everyone about this school board meeting. She wants to make a scene because she thinks it will get her what she wants. Whatever it is she wants.”

Heidi nods. She feels a little uneasy. She’s never liked this part of society. All the politics. 

“We don’t know for sure what she wants,” Heidi points out. 

Celeste nods. “That’s true,” she says mildly. She looks at Heidi pointedly. “What does Cynthia know about Evan?”

“Just that he’s not my nephew,” Heidi says. “That I met him through work, that I’m his legal guardian. He’s under sixteen, his records are sealed so she won’t be able to find out anything else about him.”

Celeste fixes her with a look. “Assume she can.”

Heidi blinks. “What?”

“Assume she gets a hold of his record,” Celeste says calmly. “What will it say?” 

“He was there when his step-brother stole a car,” Heidi replies. “Not even his step-brother, his dad’s girlfriend’s kid. Evan wasn’t driving, he was in the passenger seat. Ethan’s in jail. I argued it down to a misdemeanor. No priors.”

Celeste raises her eyebrows. “Is that all?”

“Yes,” says Heidi. 

Celeste rolls her eyes. “I can name three kids off the top of my head who’ve done the exact same thing in the last six months,” she says, sounding genuinely irritated. “All of whom were let off with a warning. No further consequences.” She straightens up her shoulders. Sips her champagne. “Excellent. We can work with this. Thank you for your cooperation.”

Heidi blinks. “I’m not going to just let you fight my battles for me, Celeste.” 

Celeste’s face breaks into a huge smile. “That’s exactly what I hoped you’d say,” she replies immediately. “Let’s order, shall we? I’ll talk you through the plan so far.”

* * *

Zoe feels kind of gross for days after she finds out about Evan. 

Gross and… stupid. 

How did she not figure this out? She’s so fucking dumb. Of course he’s not from Seattle. And his stories about his parents… well they didn’t always add up. 

Part of her wonders where they are. His parents. Zoe gets the feeling they aren’t in Europe. 

Connor’s still refusing to tell their mom anything about Evan, and his dad is totally taking Connor’s side. Which is bullshit. They have a right to know who the fuck this guy is. 

Fuck, Zoe almost had sex with him. 

Like, people can say what they want about Jared, but at least Zoe knows who the fuck Jared Kleinman is. She knew who she was getting into bed with. 

She has no idea who Evan Hansen is. No clue. 

Other than a liar. 

He probably is gay. That’s why he wouldn’t sleep with her. 

But still she feels… gross. Stupid. A little bit humiliated because now the whole school knows that there is something weird about Evan Hansen and she went out with him. But nobody seems to be able to agree about what the truth is. Zoe’s heard everything from undercover cop to secretly royalty. 

She doubts it’s anything that glamorous if he’s  _ really _ from Chino. 

Zoe tells Madison that at lunch because she needs to tell fucking someone before she drives herself crazy. 

“Chino? Ew!” Madison says, wrinkling her nose. “You made out with someone from Chino? Murph, that’s basically like having an STD.” 

Zoe rubs her forehead, irritated. It’s probably worse than an STD. Most STDs can be cured with antibiotics. 

...Should she be worried Jared gave her an STD? The condom fell off. She knows she’s not pregnant because Zoe got like an absolutely apocalyptic period after taking the morning after pill, but she didn’t even think about STDs. Is she supposed to ask Jared? Or like… go walk into a Planned Parenthood or something? Do you need to do the whole gyno exam to get tested? Zoe really doesn’t like the idea of having somebody sticking stuff inside of her body because when she thinks about that she remembers the way Jared reached in and grabbed the condom that slipped off out of her and then she starts to feel sort of sick to her stomach and -

“Murph, hello?” 

Madison’s still talking. 

“Sorry, what?”

Madison looks at her sympathetically. “It’s gonna be okay, Murph, don’t worry. In a couple of weeks, everyone will forget all about Chino and start talking about the next tragic idiot to do something dumb.” 

Zoe knows that Madison’s right. 

She knows. 

But she still can’t shake this sort of uncomfortable feeling for the rest of the day. Because Evan lied to her. He lied about who he was. He let her think he was someone and he’s not that person. 

Zoe thinks she deserves to know the fucking truth at least. 

Her stash is running a little bit low, so Zoe only takes a half a pill after lunch to get her through the rest of the day. She goes to study hall to discover the teacher is already in a pissy mood. He demands absolute silence and when some moron named Milo laughs too loudly like ten minutes into class, Mr. Hoades freaks out and gives him detention. He forces everyone to return to their assigned seat. Normally he doesn’t give a shit about that. 

Zoe hasn’t sat in hers since her awful date with Evan because they sit right next to each other. 

He glances at Zoe nervously as she slides back into her assigned seat. He opens up his bio textbook and starts taking notes. 

Zoe decides to ignore Evan. So what if he’s a huge liar? She doesn’t care. She doesn’t even like him anymore. 

Except she super does care. She wants answers, like, yesterday. 

Feeling a little bit emboldened, Zoe grabs a piece of paper from her notebook and scribbles a quick note to Evan. Zoe decides her best bet is to try to play nice at first. If she seems sympathetic, he might be more likely to tell her something. 

**Hey. I saw the newsletter. That was** **bullshit** **! Are you okay?**

Evan stares at the folded up noted for a long moment before he apprehensively unfolds it. His eyebrows crease as he reads. Like he’s confused. He grabs a pen and writes back something quickly, then passes it back when Mr. Hoades isn’t looking. 

**Why are you being nice to me? Do you want something?**

Zoe’s not like. In love with that response, honestly. 

She wants a fucking explanation. She wants to know who the hell Evan Hansen thinks he is. Zoe thinks she’s owed a fucking explanation. 

But she knows demanding an answer won’t get her anywhere. 

**I’m really sorry that we’re not really friends anymore.**

Evan’s eyes widen a bit at the note as he reads it. He looks at it for a really long time before he picks his pen back up and writes. 

**Me too.**

**I’m okay, I guess. Thanks for asking.**

Zoe thinks carefully about how to approach this. She needs to be smart. She needs to chose her words carefully. If she comes on too strong, if she starts with “who the fuck are you” she’s not going to get anywhere. 

She might need to charm her way out of this one. 

**Word on the street is that you’re, like, Danish royalty or a method actor researching a role. I think my favorite though is that you’re actually a vampire.**

Evan smiles a little when he reads that. He holds her gaze for a moment. Zoe’s reminded of how much she really did like him at first. Before it all went to hell. He’s sweet. A little bit afraid of her. Mostly harmless. 

**Afraid it’s none of those.**

**So you** **are** **in witness protection then!**

**Caught me. Mob’s after me.**

**Italians or Russian?**

**Canadians. They’re all so polite. It’s terrifying.**

Zoe and Evan look at each other for a moment, grinning stupidly. 

Zoe thinks she’s got him. But she needs to seal the deal. 

**I’m sorry if I’m why you thought you had to say you’re Heidi’s nephew. That sucks.**

**I could have corrected you.**

**So. Not to be nosey but… how** **do** **you know Heidi?**

Evan’s eyes suddenly narrow suspiciously. 

He takes the note they’ve been passing and crumples it into a ball. Gets out of his chair to go and talk to Mr. Hoades, where he asks if he can have a pass to the library. Mr. Hoades writes him one and then Evan collects his stuff and goes, taking his answers with him. 

Fuck. 

Fuck him. Fuck him for lying to her, fuck him for not telling Zoe now. He’s awful. She doesn’t even care who Evan is, he’s a dick. A jerk. A liar. 

It makes her skin crawl. The idea of him touching her, kissing her, all while lying about who he is and where he’s from. He was probably laughing to himself while googling shit about Seattle thinking it would totally get her into bed. 

It nearly did. 

Hell, if he hadn’t pussied out, Zoe would have lost her virginity to him instead of Jared. 

Zoe feels another shiver of disgust go through her. Whatever. It doesn’t matter who Evan is. He’s a liar and she wants nothing to do with him.

* * *

“You don’t have to be there this afternoon,” Heidi says over breakfast. She looks exhausted and sad and Evan hates it a lot. He feels like he should do something. 

He just has no idea what. 

“I know,” Evan replies. “B-but I think I’d j-just be s-sitting at h-h-home going crazy if I d-didn’t, so.” 

Heidi sighs. “Yeah. That’s fair enough, honey.” She frowns deeply. “This could… get nasty. I don’t want you to have to deal with these awful narrow-minded people.”

“Y-you sh-shouldn’t have to d-deal with them, either,” he points out. 

“I’m the adult,” she says a little ruefully. “Dealing with awful narrow-minded people is like 70% of adulthood. Sorry to disappoint.” 

“G-guess I’ll j-just stay sixteen,” Evan tries to joke. 

Heidi’s expression shifts a little. Softens. She smiles at him. “Don’t go cancelling your birthday on me now, kid,” she says. “You’ll be seventeen in a couple of weeks and I have plans.”

Evan blinks. “You do?”

“Absolutely,” she says with this big grin. “I’m gonna get a really big cake and if you're lucky, maybe even balloons.” 

“Spring for a piñata and we’re talking,” Evan jokes. 

Heidi laughs. “I’ll do my best. But first? We get through this shitshow.” She sighs. “We’re going out for gelato after, okay? No matter how awful it is.”

Evan feels this horrible aching in his stomach. “Is it really going to be that bad?” he asks, trying to not sound as fucking weirded out as he feels.

“It could be,” Heidi says somberly. “Hope for the best but prepare for the worst, yeah? It’s all we can do.”

The whole day is just… weird. 

The school rumor mill is in overdrive and the stuff that’s being said is just goddamn weird. 

People are talking about the fucking school board meeting and how there’s apparently some drama going down. There are a couple of conflicting stories going around about it, but the main one seems to be that Cynthia Murphy is on the warpath. 

No one their age seems to know the real reason why, although a lot of people think it’s about Connor’s note on the school website. 

At least that makes some kind of sense. 

People are also talking about how Evan isn’t from Seattle, but the stories there are even more ridiculous. There’s a rumor going around that he’s a bodyguard the Murphys hired for Connor, which is basically recycling from the first week of school. Another that he’s some form of European royalty, which he has to admit is kind of hilarious. 

There’s a rumor going around that he’s an undercover FBI agent. 

That one’s his favorite. 

But there are also rumors that he’s a dangerous criminal, that he was in juvie, and those are a little too close for comfort. Those are the rumors that make him nervous. 

He doesn’t know what’s going to happen at this fucking school board meeting but he knows Connor’s mom is going to make a scene. 

Heidi’s assured him his records are sealed because he’s a minor, but he has this feeling that when you’re as rich as Mrs. Murphy, things like sealed records aren’t really a problem anymore. 

Evan’s trying to brace himself for the worst. 

Trying to prepare for everything to just go wrong. 

The problem is that he’s just… not prepared. He’s not. He’s gotten fucking soft these past few months. He’s gone from having no one to being someone who has people. There’s Heidi, who’s the closest thing Evan’s had to a stable parental figure in nearly a decade. Sabrina and Alana, who are friends and confidants.

He’s got Connor, who is the best person he knows, the best friend he’s ever had. 

Preparing himself for the worst means losing them. 

_ That’s  _ the worst. 

And he just…

He can’t prepare himself for that. The idea of losing that is just too much for him. 

_ You’re a fucking idiot,  _ the voice in his head tells him.  _ Why would you be so stupid? Why on earth would you put yourself in a position where you had something to lose? _

He didn’t do it on purpose. 

It just happened. 

So did going along with Ethan to steal a fucking car. That just happened, too. 

When is he going to learn to stop letting things just happen to him? 

Alana talks all through lunch nervously about how the meeting is going to be totally fine, but the longer she talks the less convinced Evan is. She sounds freaked out. 

It freaks Evan out. 

Connor seems freaked out, too. He’s all jittery in English last hour. Says some sarcastic shit to Mr. Stevens and very nearly gets himself detention. Mr. Stevens, thankfully, doesn’t pull the trigger on it. He does, however, ask the two of them if he could have a word after class. 

Once the rest of the class is gone, he looks at Evan and Connor and sighs. “All I’ve heard are rumors,” he says wearily, “but I gather that your mom is going to kick up a fuss about something at the school board meeting later this afternoon, right Connor?” 

Connor nods. Wraps his arms around his middle. 

Mr. Stevens looks at Evan. “Was the school newsletter correct? Are you from Chino?”

Evan nods. Mr. Stevens smiles a little. 

“Mr. Howison still teaches bio at Chino Public, right? We had a bet that he’d never retire, just drop dead in class one day.”

Evan can’t quite believe that he’s hearing. “Yeah, he’s still there. I assume. H-he, uh… he t-taught me in my s-sophomore year.”

Mr. Stevens nods. “Me too,” he says. “Maybe twelve years ago.” 

Connor frowns. “You’re from Chino?”

“Born and raised,” says Mr. Stevens, looking straight at Evan. “Not quite as glamorous as around here, obviously. It’s not the worst place in the world but it has its rough areas.” He looks a little sad. “If you went to Chino Public, you’d know.” 

Evan feels a little bit like he’s dreaming. “Yeah,” he manages to choke out. “I, uh… yeah.” 

“I never thought I’d get out when I was a kid,” says Mr. Stevens, something a little raw in his voice. “But I worked my ass off, got a full ride to UCLA and… there I was. I met my wife Sarah at college. She’s from here. She wanted us to start our family here, so… that’s how I ended up teaching here.” He smiles a little. “It’s like a whole other world.”

“Exactly,” says Evan. He knows he’s staring like an idiot, but this is just… really fucking weird. 

His favorite teacher is from his hometown. 

And gets how insane this place is compared to where they’re from. 

“I don’t know your story,” Mr. Stevens says, looking at Evan intently, “but I know how different the expectations are here at Harbor compared to Chino Public. And you should know that you are crushing it, okay?” He looks like he’s trying to figure out what to say next. Like he’s carefully considering how to continue. “There’s a huge class divide,” he says finally. “Trust me, I know. I got to events with my wife and people look at me like I’m less than nothing. They’re all lawyers and doctors and real estate moguls and business analysts and I’m a high school English teacher. They all grew up in this… world of excess. And I didn’t. It’s not an easy thing to deal with, and I’m nearly thirty. You’re, what, seventeen?”

“In a couple of weeks, yeah.”

Mr. Stevens nods. Looks genuinely sympathetic. Frowns a little. Clears his throat. “My mother-in-law is a bit of a gossip. She’s always got her ear to the ground and seems to think that Cynthia Murphy is trying to get you kicked out of this school.” 

Evan looks at Connor, whose face is ashen. He wraps his arms around himself even tighter, shrinking in on himself. Mr. Stevens’ face falls, like it’s confirmed something for him. 

“I think so,” Evan says quietly. “Sh-sh-she r-really doesn’t l-like me. Or Heidi. My legal guardian.” He feels his face flush. “Not m-my aunt. We… we lied.  _ I _ lied.”

“I don’t blame you,” says Mr. Stevens sincerely. “I get why you did.” He runs his hand through his hair. Rubs his beard. Blinks a few times. He looks kind of tired. “If things get rough in there,” he says after a moment, “I’ll be speaking up on your behalf. Just so you know. You’re talented and you deserve all the opportunities this school has to offer. You deserve them more than a lot of the kids around here.” 

Evan feels a lump in his throat. Swallows hard. “Thank you,” he says quietly. “I, uh… it’s g-good to kn-know.”

When they leave the classroom, Connor grabs Evan’s arm and stops him. “I’m so sorry,” he says. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Evan tells him. 

Connor looks so sad. “It’s my mom who’s-”

“Your mom,” Evan interrupts. “Not you.” 

Connor bites his lip. Nods. Sighs. 

“Let’s get coffee,” he says. “We’ve got time. May as well be caffeinated.”

* * *

Celeste Beck offers to send a car to pick up Heidi from work and take her to the school board meeting, but she declines. She needs to drive herself there. For one, she needs her car, and for another, she needs to be doing something with her hands or she’ll totally lose it. 

When she pulls into the school parking lot, there are more cars than usual. 

Everyone seems to be here for the show. 

Celeste Beck is waiting for her in the foyer in this bright turquoise power suit that’s clearly designer, expensive as hell and makes every other person in the area look downright dull in comparison. Heidi suspects it’s on purpose. 

Celeste smiles at her widely when she sees her. Nods approvingly. Heidi’s made sure to dress for the occasion as well. Took a lunch break to get her hair done. She used to do that before big court appearances - go somewhere to get her hair styled so she looked powerful. Or vapid, depending on what she was going for. 

Today, it’s powerful. Responsible. 

And here to take no shit. 

Nearby she spots Evan, Connor, Alana and Sabrina standing together. They’re not talking much. Well, Connor and Evan and Sabrina aren’t. Alana’s got plenty to say, as always. She’s talking about how she’s looking forward to diving into the deeper issues. As she talks, Evan gets paler and paler. 

He sees her and something in his whole face relaxes. He smiles immediately. 

Heidi heads over. “Hey kid,” she says, putting her hand on his shoulder. “How are you holding up?”

“N-nervous,” he admits. He swallows. “My English teacher? He… he said he’d stick up for me.” 

Heidi smiles. Mr. Stevens seemed like a good sort. Young, a little idealistic maybe, but passionate. A good person to have in their corner. 

The crowd of people goes a little quiet as Cynthia Murphy walks in with Jenny Kleinman and Heather Whittington. All three of them look immaculate, as usual. 

Cynthia locks eyes with Heidi and raises her eyebrow. Glances at Connor, then her expression hardens. She turns away to talk to Jenny and Heather, and Heidi looks at Connor a little helplessly. 

Fuck. 

She really hopes she’s not going to make this kid’s life worse. 

When Connor was little, he followed his mom around like a shadow. Wanted to do everything with her, go everywhere with her. She took him with her, too, even to events that weren’t strictly child-friendly. 

What the hell happened?

They open up the auditorium and people start to file in. Heidi lets a few people go in first. Looks at Celeste, who nods at her confidently. She’s just about to suggest to Evan they go inside when she sees Larry show up. 

Something inside her untwists a little. 

He might be able to keep Cynthia from going completely insane. 

Maybe. 

He couldn’t stop her from making a scene at cotillion. 

It’s totally unfair of her to even think that, she knows. God knows how hard Larry’s trying. 

But this is about keeping her kid in this school where he belongs. 

Where he deserves to be. 

And as much as she loves Larry like a brother, she will not hesitate to metaphorically rip out his wife’s throat. 

They go inside. Celeste has somehow secured them seats in the front row, despite hanging back so as not to enter first. People just kind of part like the red sea when she walks in. A lot of them smile and greet her and ask how she is and she greets them all warmly. Heidi remembers suddenly that Celeste was the school board president for a few years. She stood down because Alana wanted to run for the student board representative. 

A lot of the community weren’t thrilled with that decision. 

As the meeting starts, Alana takes a seat at the table with the rest of the board, as well as Greg Sanson, who looks like he’s dreading what’s to come. 

Heidi’s not exactly thrilled either. 

It’s boring to start off with, honestly. There are minutes from the last meeting. A sheet goes round for people to mark that they’re in attendance. There’s a lengthy discussion about some kind of scandal involving a bake sale, as well as some woman Heidi doesn’t know asking a bazillion questions about AP testing, which several people running the meeting remind her will be addressed in a Q&A after spring break specifically for that purpose. 

Doesn’t seem to stop her, though. 

Heidi struggles to pay attention. She’s nervous.

Beside her, Evan’s pale. A little sweaty. Definitely also nervous. 

Fuck, she hates bureaucracy. 

Finally, the board president gets to why Heidi’s here. “Cynthia Murphy wanted to bring up the subject of student safety. Cynthia, if you could stand.”

Cynthia barely has a moment to react before Celeste is on her feet. 

“Before you start, Cynthia,” she says, her voice ringing loud and clear across the room, “I just wanted to let you know that you have my full support. What happened to your son and the school website was absolutely a breach of student safety and does not even begin to scratch the surface of the rampant bullying problem at this school.” She looks out to the crowd, then fixes her gaze on Cynthia. “As a mother, I completely understand wanting to protect your child from that level of cruelty, and I would appreciate it if someone could explain to us all how something like this could have happened. Why are our children not being kept safe?”

Cynthia looks stunned. Completely taken aback. 

Heidi’s a little stunned as well. 

She and Celeste had discussed the broad strokes of what she was going to say, but she hadn’t mentioned that she’d be bringing up Connor’s note. 

She looks over at Connor who has gone white as a sheet. He’s folding into himself, trying to make himself smaller. Evan grabs his hand and holds it tight. 

Fuck.

* * *

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

Connor should have seen this coming but… he didn’t. He feels his face drain of color. Feels the eyes in the room fix on him from where he’s sitting beside Evan. Connor tries to shrink a little in his chair, tries to look away. 

Evan grabs Connor’s hand and holds on tight. 

He really didn’t need Alana’s mom announcing to anyone who might have missed it that he’s the kid with the suicide note. He looks up briefly toward where Alana’s sitting with the school board. She’s watching her mom with rapt attention. 

Connor wishes Heidi would have warned him this was going to come up. He knows she and Mrs. Beck worked together to come up with a response to his mom’s bullshit. If he had known, Connor would have… 

He doesn’t know. 

Not sat in the front row at least. Made himself so obvious. Probably would have remembered to take a shower today. 

“I’d like to know that myself,” His mom says, clearly a little bit thrown off. “Obviously it’s unacceptable. But-”

“If the board members could all have a look at the folders I provided,” says Mrs. Beck, as if his mom hadn’t even been talking. “They’re on your tables. Evidence dating back over the past two and a half years of hate speech and bullying, both in school and online. I’m not just referring to my daughter and your son, Cynthia, this is a widespread problem across the student population. It’s appreciated that you’re taking a stand on this and we can work together to bring this issue to light and move forward to find some solutions.” 

Connor has to admit… she’s got a point. 

“Of course bullying is a problem,” His mom replies, barely hiding her obvious irritation at the fact that Mrs. Beck just came and totally redirected her entire agenda to be about something that actually matters. “But the reason I put student safety on the agenda was-”

“The drug problem,” Mrs. Beck interrupts. “ _ Exactly _ . Thank you for your bravery in bringing this up, Cynthia, especially in light of your recent struggles.”

Connor has the strangest impulse to cheer at that. He and Evan trade a covert look. That’s… kind of a slam dunk. 

Mrs. Beck keeps talking, “You know more than any of us how dangerous addiction can be.” She looks around the room. “I know it’s easier to be willfully ignorant but we can’t afford to do that any longer if we want to keep our kids safe. We’ve had four Harbor students hospitalised for drug abuse this semester alone, all of whom went on record to say that they had purchased the drugs at school from the same student. Yet somehow, the school is doing nothing about this.” 

“That’s not-”

“This is news to me,” says the school board president in alarm. “Do you have evidence?” 

“Check the yellow tab,” says Celeste. “You’ll find everything there.”

“I’m not talking about drugs,” His mom practically yells. “I’m talking about our children going to school with a criminal!”

“A criminal?” asks Mrs. Beck, her eyebrows raised. “Do  _ you  _ have evidence?”

“I’ve got his record right here,” Connor’s mom says, pulling out a folder of her own. 

Connor feels his heart plummet. 

Evan grabs his hand back. Connor squeezes tightly. How the fuck did she get that? Juvenile records are sealed. This is bullshit, this is total bullshit. 

“Evan Hansen was charged with aiding and abetting grand theft auto. He’s been attending this school with our children since the beginning of the school year. Not only that, but he’s been lying about how he is. He’s not Heidi Herzberg’s nephew, he’s a  _ felon _ she took in for god knows what reason, exposing our children to a thieving, lying, convicted criminal.”

* * *

Evan feels his heart plummet to his feet. 

He knew this was coming. 

He fucking knew it. Heidi said that his records were sealed because he’s a minor, but he knew that wouldn’t stop someone with the kind of money Mrs. Murphy has from finding out. 

Fuck. 

“It wasn’t a felony,” Heidi says immediately. She barely reacts to the bombshell Mrs. Murphy just dropped. Doesn’t even look surprised that she’s somehow got a hold of his record. “If you’ve got his record, then you’ll see that it was a misdemeanor. He’s not a convicted felon.”

“He stole a car!” Mrs. Murphy replies. “What’s to say he won’t do it again.”

“Mr. Sinclair?” says Mrs. Beck, in this professional, calm tone that makes Evan think that this woman should be in charge of, like, everything. “Are you here this evening?” 

Evan turns to see his driver’s ed teacher stand up. He waves at the room, a little nervously. Mr. Sinclair is a man of few words and doesn’t seem comfortable with so many eyes on him, which Evan can absolutely relate to. 

Fuck, he hopes no one’s going to make him get up and say something. 

“Mr. Sinclair runs our Driver’s Education program,” Mrs. Beck continues. “Mr. Sinclair, could you tell us about Evan’s progress in the program so far?”

Mr. Sinclair laughs a little. Looks at Evan with this warm smile. “I think it’ll be awhile before Evan’s stealing cars,” he says, something almost fond in his expression. “Seeing as we haven’t quite progressed past the school parking lot.”

Evan smiles back at him, grateful that Mr. Sinclair isn’t mentioning the numerous panic attacks Evan’s had behind the wheel of the car during his lessons. Driving is not something he’s finding particularly easy. 

Apparently, that’s just as well. The board members all look a little skeptical at the idea that a kid who hasn’t completed driver’s ed is a car thief. 

“The son of one of his previous guardians was driving the car,” Heidi says, clearly bouncing off Mr. Sinclair’s words. “He was an unwilling participant who didn’t feel he had a choice. He made a mistake. That resulted in his guardian giving up custody of him. He came to live with me because I wanted to give an obviously gifted young man a chance at a future. I sent him to this school because it values high academic achievement.” She looks at Evan for a moment, her face softening. “And he is  _ excelling _ . It’s how you all found out he wasn’t my nephew, isn’t it? Because of his success.”

“How do we know he didn’t cheat?” Mrs. Murphy spits out.

Evan feels that like a stab to the chest. 

He worked hard on that essay. 

That’s… that’s not fair. 

But then his English teacher is standing up. “It’s a statewide competition,” says Mr. Stevens. “It’s independently judged. Checked thoroughly for plagiarism before submission. He won fair and square.”

Mrs. Murphy’s cheeks go red. She doesn’t seem happy with that answer. 

One of the board members looks straight at Heidi. “I’m interested to know why you would lie about his identity.”

Heidi nods, like she’s been expecting this question. Looks around the room. “I wanted to give Evan a chance to prove himself on his own merits,” Heidi tells him. “Without being judged as a kid from the wrong side of the tracks. So when it was assumed he was my nephew, we went along with it to give him a chance.” She straightens her shoulders. “I regret lying, but I stand by my decision to take him in.” 

Then she looks at Evan, her eyes warm, her voice brimming with emotion, and Evan feels a little like he’s going to cry at her next words. 

“Evan is an exceptionally bright, kind and compassionate young man. Becoming his legal guardian is one of the best decisions I’ve made in my life.”

* * *

Connor feels this rush of warmth for Heidi. The way she looks at Evan… like he’s hers. Like he’s her kid. Like he’s the brightest star in the sky. Like she loves him more than she can put into words, like she would physically fight everyone in this room who dares to talk smack about Evan. Connor wants to, like, hug her or something. He’s just… so glad she’s the one taking care of Evan. 

And he’s so glad Evan has her. 

“Evan’s a liar,” Connor’s mom spits out. She’s… so angry. She’s so angry that Connor feels himself shrinking in his seat, like he might be able to duck out of the blast zone of her anger. “He’s a liar and a thief, and I don’t know what kind of game he’s playing but you’re naive if you think that he’s going to change.” She gestures to Jenny Kleinman, who’s standing next to her. “He punched Jenny’s son on the first day of school, completely unprovoked!”

Connor feels his blood boil. He finds himself jumping to his feet, his heart thumping loudly in his chest. “He punched Jared to defend  _ me _ !” Connor shouts, his voice carrying across the auditorium. His mom’s eyes flash at him, but he doesn’t stop. “Mom, come on. Jared called me a school shooter. He was defending  _ me _ .” 

“Which brings me right back to the rampant bullying,” says Mrs. Beck. Her voice is smooth and professional and unbothered. She looks over at the board members, who have folders in front of them. “Check the blue tab.” 

Connor swallows hard. Looks awkwardly at Evan and takes his seat again. 

“It says here that the students who claimed to have purchased drugs at school all said they got them from Jared Kleinman,” says one of the board members. “This is the same student?” 

Connor’s heart thuds too hard in his chest. He feels kind of dizzy. 

“Didn’t Jerry Kleinman provide the funding for the new addition to the school library?” Mrs. Beck says, her tone light. “If I recall correctly, the new addition was announced shortly after the school year began.” 

“We’re not here to talk about Jared,” Connor’s mom snaps, “we’re here to talk about Evan Hansen. I want him removed from the school. I don’t want my children consorting with a criminal.”

Connor clenches his jaw. He sees the color draining from Evan’s face beside him. 

“He’s a sixteen year old with a right to an education,” Mrs. Beck says matter-of-factly. “The school enrolled him with full knowledge of his past.”

Connor’s mom looks like she’s going to explode. Her cheeks are pink and blotchy. Connor wonders how much she’s had to drink already today. “This is unacceptable. The whole reason we send our children to this school is so they’re around the right sort of people.”

Or because she can’t stand the idea of sending her children any other school. 

Mrs. Beck looks around the room. “That’s an interesting point of view. I’d like to think that we send our children to this school so that they  _ become  _ the right sort of people.” 

“Why are you even part of this conversation, Celeste?” His mom hisses. “You’re not the board president anymore, you don’t have any authority here.”

“I’m here as a concerned parent,” Mrs. Beck replies. “You put forward an agenda item about school safety, which I whole-heartedly support. I’m disappointed to see this is just a flimsy excuse for you to air a personal vendetta in a public forum.” 

Connor barely stifles a laugh. 

“ _ I’m _ disappointed that this school would set a juvenile delinquent loose on the student body,” His mom says hotly, bordering on shrill. “He’s a liar and a thief and has proven to be violent. And I highly doubt he’s excelling as much as you claim. Talk to him for longer than a minute and you’ll soon realize he’s a moron who can barely choke out a sentence. He’s a liar and a thief with a history of violence-”

“That’s horseshit!” Connor yells, jumping to his feet again. “He does not have any more of a  _ history  _ of violence than I do. You’re just being a petty bitch!’

His mom goes bright red and glares at Connor. He returns the look, crossing his arms over his middle.

“I need to ask you to leave,” says the school board president to Connor, frowning. “That kind of language will not be tolerated.” 

Connor opens his mouth to retort, but one of the campus security officers comes to stand at the end of the row until Connor gets out of his seat. He looks back at Evan and lets himself be escorted out.

* * *

One of the campus security officers escorts Connor out of the building. Heidi tries not to sigh in frustration. 

She probably should have seen that coming. The way Cynthia’s acting… 

If she were seventeen, she would have lost her shit by now as well. 

Once Connor’s out of the room, Mr. Stevens stands up. “If I may? Evan’s grades are exceptional. He’s easily one of the top students at the school.” He looks directly at Cynthia. “I hardly think it’s fair to judge him on a mild speech impediment when he’s achieving at such a consistently high level across the board. I think as a school, we should be above those types of prejudice.” 

“Maybe Evan should be allowed an opportunity to speak for himself,” says Cynthia. 

Everyone turns to look at Evan, who’s gone pale. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, this is not what Heidi wanted. 

“You don’t have to do this,” she tells him quietly. 

Cynthia looks triumphant. “That’s if he can.”

Evan’s eyes flash with anger. 

Heidi feels like punching Cynthia in her smug face. 

And Evan stands up. Stands tall. Pulls himself up to his full height and looks around the room. 

Heidi can see that his hands shake, but he speaks clearly. Slowly, deliberately, without a tremor in his voice. 

“I’m sorry I lied about who I was. I never meant to hurt anyone. Like Heidi said, I wanted to prove myself on my own merits. And I really appreciate the academic opportunities I’ve been given here at Harbor.” He pauses. Looks right at Cynthia. “But Mrs. Beck is right about the bullying and the drugs. All of us deserve a school that’s safe for everyone and right now, it isn’t.” 

With that, he sits back down. 

Cynthia blinks. She clearly hadn’t expected that. Had clearly set him up to fail. 

She seems furious that he didn’t. 

“Plain and simple, there’s no valid reason to remove Evan from Harbor,” says the school board president. “I’m aware of his past, but Harbor should be a place where we look toward the future.” He pauses. “Evan has been on probation for most of the year but his hard work and academic achievement means we’ve taken him off probation. However, we have zero tolerance for any further acts of physical violence toward other students.” He looks at Evan. “Is that clear?”

Evan nods. So does Heidi. 

“This is completely unacceptable,” Cynthia says. “He’s-”

She stops talking. Larry’s standing up, grabbing her arm and pulling her to her seat. Whispering something in her ear that Heidi can’t hear. 

She looks like she’s about to explode, but she sits down. 

Shuts up. 

“If you’ll look at the folder I’ve provided,” Celeste says after a moment, “under the green tab you’ll see a proposed plan for cracking down on drug use here at Harbor. I’ve prepared a short presentation outlining my plan, if you’d indulge me.”

“Mrs. Beck, you have the floor.”

Celeste Beck launches into a precise, measured plan involving random locker checks, drug sniffing dogs and education around the effects of drug abuse, which Heidi would find extremely impressive if she weren’t so relieved. She grabs Evan’s hand and squeezes it tightly. 

“Well done, kid,” she whispers quietly. 

“I th-thought I w-was going to h-have a heart attack,” he says, and she can feel his arm shaking. 

“You were amazing,” she tells him, squeezing his hand again. “You’re amazing.”

She couldn’t be prouder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! at the Disco  
> Chapter title from "Get Busy Living or Get Busy Dying (Do Your Part to Save the Scene and Stop Going to Shows)" by Fall Out Boy


	45. When These Open Doors Were Open Ended

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The repercussions of the school board meeting are felt far and wide, just in time for spring break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Please heed the warnings and tags as you read this chapter, and stay safe.**

Connor paces outside of the school. He was escorted from the building. Kicked out of the school board meeting after he swore at his mother. 

He waits anxiously. 

Bites his fingernails. 

He should have kept his mouth shut. He should have kept his fucking mouth shut so he wouldn’t be stuck out here waiting for news. He’s an idiot. He’s so damn stupid. 

Evan needs him and here he is, stuck outside, because he just can’t keep his mouth shut. Connor’s the worst best friend in fucking history. 

Evan’s gonna stop talking to him. 

Connor wouldn’t even blame him. He wouldn’t. He sucks at this. He’s a bad fucking friend. 

He’s bad at this. 

He’s so bad at this. 

Eventually, people start to trickle out of the building. Connor holds himself steady, watching. Listening for anything that might tell him what happened inside. 

Evan and Heidi finally step outside. They both look pretty relieved. Connor rushes up to them. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he says to Evan, his voice a rush, all mumbled and mushy. “I shouldn’t have mouthed off I’m an idiot… what happened?”

Evan gives him a slightly pained looking smile. “I’m n-not getting kicked out.”

Connor can breathe again. He can’t help himself. He grabs Evan into a tight hug. Holds on for dear life. He’s okay he’s okay he’s okay. 

Heidi grins when they break apart. “Evan conducted himself very well.”

Connor grins awkwardly. “Sorry again.”

Evan shakes his head. “It’s fine. She uh. M-made me talk. But it was. It was okay.”

Heidi beams at Evan like he’s the greatest thing that’s ever existed. Connor can’t help but agree with that idea. “We also got the school to agree to a crackdown on drugs.”

“Good,” Connor says darkly. “Half of the junior class is buying Adderall off of Jared Kleinman. It’s not safe.”

Heidi seems to agree. 

She invites Connor to join them for gelato, but Connor shakes his head awkwardly. “Probably should uh. Go deal with the dragon lady. Since I publicly humiliated her and all.”

Heidi gives him another hug. Tells him to be careful and try not to provoke his mom. He says he’ll do his best. 

Hugs Evan one more time. Murmurs, “I fucking told you told you, you weren’t going anywhere.”

Connor gets in his car and drives home. His dad and his mom are bitching at each other when he walks in. 

“You! You are in so much trouble-” she shouts at Connor and his dad grabs his mom around the shoulders and tells Connor to go up to his room. 

Connor does as he’s told. 

On his way up, Zoe pops her head out of her room. “Jesus Christ Connor, can’t you go like one day without pissing her off?” She slams her door. 

Connor doesn’t even care. 

He goes into his room. Things settle downstairs. He tools around on MySpace. Texts Alana a few times. She doesn't approve of his “reliance on profanity” but overall appreciates his efforts at the school board meeting. 

Connor feels kind of warm about that. 

He was just looking out for Evan. He’ll always stick his neck out for Evan. 

It gets late but Connor’s kind of buzzing on this win. His mom isn’t as all-powerful as she seems to think. She couldn’t get Evan thrown out of school just because she hates Heidi. 

Connor is happy about this. 

His bedroom door opens as Connor’s about to go and get ready for bed. It’s after one in the morning. 

His mom is standing there. 

She’s obviously drunk. She’s stumbling a little. “Well. You got what you wanted. I guess your little friend is more important than this family.”

“You’re drunk,” Connor says dismissively. “Go sleep it off.”

“You watch your tone,” she snaps. “The way you spoke to me at that meeting is unacceptable. I have half a mind to send you away before the school year’s out.”

Connor laughs. He actually laughs. “Oh please. If you were gonna do it, you would have already. I’m not scared of you.” Connor goes to push past her. “You’re all talk-”

She slaps him. 

Hard. 

Connor blinks a few times. Stunned. 

He doesn’t react fast enough and she backhands him a second time. 

His eyes water. 

Fuck fuck _fuck._

“Shut. Your. Mouth,” she says, her voice icy and terrifying. 

Connor backs away a little. His heart might explode or beat out of his chest. Fuck. 

Fuck. 

“I’m telling dad,” he says viciously. “You’re fucking _drunk_ and I’m sick of this.”

“You say a word and you’ll be out of this house by morning.”

“Bullshit,” Connor says back. “You can’t keep threatening me with that. It’s not gonna work. Dad’s already said I’m not going anywhere.”

“You think so, huh?” His mom says. Connor’s halfway out of his bedroom. He should just go get his dad. He needs to go. 

But he can’t move. 

“I’m sure he’ll be _just_ as interested in the stash of pills Blanca found in your sister’s room.”

Connor blinks. He doesn’t follow. He knows about Zoe’s stash. Whatever. His dad can deal with that too. He starts to head down the hall. 

“Pretty ingenious, really. Hiding your drugs in Zoe’s room.”

Connor freezes. 

“Those aren’t mine,” Connor says immediately. “I’m clean.”

His mom laughs. “And I’m sober.”

Connor shakes his head. “You’re so damn stupid. Zoe’s been showing up drunk and high almost every weekend, but sure, it’s _my_ stash.” His cheek still stings from where she slapped him. He takes another step toward the guest room to get his dad. 

“And which one of us do you think your father will believe?” His mom says softly. 

Connor stares. 

Horrified. 

“‘Oh no mom those aren’t mine,’” she parrots back to him. “You really think either of us believe you anymore? After you broke our trust how many times? After you started _stealing_ to get drug money?”

Connor’s blood runs cold. 

He got caught a lot. When he was still using. He got caught and he would lie through his teeth and then just go buy more drugs. When his dad cut off his allowance, it didn’t stop him. He stole money from his parents. From Zoe. He pawned stuff. He shoplifted a couple of times. 

“Honestly you expect he’s going to believe you?”

Connor tries to shrug. “I’ll fucking pee in a cup if he wants me to, I don’t care-”

“Will you now?” His mom says. “Because I’m sure you’re _totally_ clean.”

Calls his bluff. 

Because he _has_ been smoking weed a lot lately. It helps him eat and helps him not kill himself. And he knows his dad would be pissed about that. He… he would think Connor’s lying. 

Which is exactly what she wants. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck she has him. She has him. 

“So I think unless you want you to start shopping for somewhere else to live,” his mom says. “That you’ll keep your mouth shut won’t you?”

Connor nods stupidly. He fully intends to just… deal with his dad being pissed at him. Whatever. It doesn’t fucking matter. He’ll tell his dad. He doesn’t _care._ He’s so done. 

“Good boy,” she says. Her tone has absolutely no warmth. “And if you get any ideas… I suppose you wouldn’t want the police to find out about your little beach house escapades with Evan? Bonfires and. Whatever else it is that you get up to under Heidi’s nose.”

Connor stares. “How do you know about that?”

“Blanca is on _my_ payroll.” She grins. “And Lisa Patel always had a good nose. Sabrina came home _reeking_ of weed the morning after she and that Alana Beck were at the beach house. I can put two and two together about where she got the drugs.”

Connor feels totally numb. 

Completely numb. 

She thinks _Evan_ sold to them. 

She’s fucking got him. 

She’s got him trapped. 

“I may not have much pull in this town, but I _do_ know the chief of police. It would be such a shame for Evan to blow this opportunity, wouldn’t it?”

He nods. 

His mom kisses his aching cheek. Staggers off to bed. 

Connor gets up for school early. He doesn’t remember falling asleep; all he knows is that it was sometime after three. 

Connor drags himself out of bed and down the hall to the bathroom. On his way to pee, Connor catches sight of his reflection. 

He thinks he’s going to be sick. 

His cheek is bruised. Pretty badly too. 

There’s no way he’s gonna be able to hide that. 

Fucking hell. 

Evan’s gonna notice and if he notices he’ll tell Heidi and if he tells Heidi then Heidi will tell his dad and his mom will go to the cops about the weed and the other drugs and blame Evan and he’ll end up in juvie and it will be all Connor’s fault. 

He needs to do something. 

Connor showers quickly. 

He’s panicking. Totally panicking. School starts in an hour and a half and he’s fucked. 

Maybe he can fake sick? 

But Evan will just come over and check on him later if he does that. 

Fuck. 

He’s fucked he’s fucked he’s so fucked. 

Connor goes back into his room. Puts on clothes. Maybe he should… risk it. Warn Evan what might be coming and tell his dad. 

He can’t hide this he can’t fucking hide this -

There’s a knock on his door. In his panic, Connor shouts, “I’m getting dressed.”

The door opens anyway. Connor rounds on whoever just walked in, about to shout something about privacy. 

But it’s his mom. 

She’s holding a makeup bag. 

Looks at Connor like a bug she would very much like to squash. 

“Have a seat,” she says, sitting on Connor’s bed. Pulling her makeup bag open. 

Connor sits. His heart is thumping hard in his chest. He stupidly worries she’s going to hit him again. 

He’s bigger than her. Connor could fight her off if she tried. He’s not scared of his mom, Jesus. She’s not like Evan’s dad. She’s not. 

She has a small cosmetic sponge that she loads up with some orange looking color. Without asking she grabs Connor by the chin and starts to dab his bruised cheek with the makeup. 

Then she brushes some powder over it. 

Then she adds another color. More yellow this time. Brushes that with powder. Finishes off with something that matches his skin. The bottle says “porcelain” and funnily enough that’s exactly what Connor feels like his arms and legs are made of. Breakable brittle porcelain. 

She finishes up with more powder. Turns his face a few times to inspect her work. 

“I think we both agree it’s best if nobody else knows about our conversation last night,” his mom says conversationally. 

Connor nods. 

“Wear eyeliner today,” she tells him. “It’ll distract from the rest of your face.”

Connor nods mutely. 

His mom kisses his unbruised cheek. “Have a good day at school today honey.”

Connor watches her go, his arms and legs shaking. He feels dizzy. Sort of sick to his stomach. 

He does as he’s told and draws eyeliner on around his eyes then smudges it a little with his fingers. 

You can’t even really tell in the mirror. 

Fuck he hopes you can’t tell. 

* * *

“Come talk to me,” Zoe’s mom says to her after school the day after she apparently made an idiot of herself at the school board meeting. 

Zoe follows her mom into her room. She shuts the door, her heart sort of racing. Zoe has this horrible feeling that her mom somehow knows about Zoe having sex with Jared. Like maybe she found the receipt for the Plan B that she bought or found the bloody underwear Zoe buried in the trash or something and she’s been sitting on it for weeks. 

Instead, her mom goes into her closet and pulls down a shoebox. From it she pulls out a baggie of pills. 

Fuck. 

“Blanca found these in your bedroom,” her mom says calmly. 

Zoe feels like she might throw up. Fuck. Fuck. 

Fuck. 

“Those aren’t mine,” she blurts immediately. 

Her mom’s face doesn’t change. “I thought as much.” She shakes her head a little. Like she just had a hair in her face or something. “Your brother thinks he’s so smart. Hiding his stash in your bedroom. Trying to get you into trouble.”

Zoe swallows hard. 

Her heart is in her throat. She feels like she might throw up. Shit. She… 

Shit. 

“Did you tell dad?” Zoe asks, her voice quiet and desperate. She doesn’t even know what response she wants. She thinks her dad knows she’s been fucking around. He keeps checking on her late at night and asking if she needs to talk. 

Their dad might not believe that the pills are Connor’s. He might suspect. He might…

Fuck. 

Her mom shakes her head. “Frankly I’m not sure it’s worth it to waste anymore money on rehab for Connor since he doesn’t seem especially interested in getting clean. Blanca also found marijuana in the pool house.”

That actually is Connor’s. Not that Zoe hasn’t been helping herself to it from time to time but. Technically she never bought it. 

“What are you going to do?” Zoe asks. Her heart thuds hard in her chest. 

Her mom heaves a sigh. “Watch him more closely I suppose.” She folds her arms over her chest. “Honestly we might need to think about sending him to another school out of state. I get the feeling that Evan has something to do with this.”

Zoe feels a rush of intense guilt. She knows how much Connor doesn’t want to be sent away again. And it’s almost April. Pretty late in the year to be transferred. 

And she knows it’s got nothing to do with Evan, even the weed. Evan doesn’t do any drugs. He barely drinks. He told her once that weed makes him paranoid. 

“Has anyone told you? Who that boy really is?”

Zoe shakes her head. There’s rumors at school. 

Her mom sighs. “He’s a thief. Heidi was assigned as his public defender. Because he stole a car over the summer.”

Zoe has to admit she’s surprised. Evan’s only just now taking driver’s ed. She didn’t think he could even drive. 

Stupidly she feels like crying. 

She kissed him. Let him feel her up. Tried to have sex with him. 

What the fuck. What the fuck why is she so stupid? 

She has some seriously messed up taste in guys. Fuck. What is fucking wrong with her. 

“Mom I didn’t know,” Zoe says. Her eyes sting with tears. She’s so embarrassed. “I didn’t know… I _went out_ with him.”

“I know sweetheart,” her mom says, pulling Zoe into a tight hug. 

Zoe thinks she smells weird. A little too perfumey. 

Whatever. 

“Now I don’t want to ask this…” her mom says gently. “But I know you only had the one date.”

Zoe nods miserably. 

“He didn’t… I don’t want to suggest he tried anything but…” her mom trails off significantly. 

Zoe realizes with horror that her mom wants her to say yes. She wants Zoe to say that Evan hurt her or took advantage or… 

“Mom, god, no. He was a perfect gentleman.”

Her mom can’t even hide her disappointment. “I just want to make sure. That nothing you… didn’t want happened that night.”

Plenty of things Zoe didn’t want happened that night, but none of them were things Evan did. It was more what he didn’t do. 

“No mom. Nothing happened. He was… sweet.” She shrugs. “A little too sweet, honestly.”

Her mom frowns. “Well. Good.”

Zoe stares at her. “I mean… it’s messed up that Evan lied to everyone and I don’t like. Love that there’s a fucking car thief living next door but. He didn’t do anything to me. And…” Zoe braces herself. “Are you trying to get him into trouble?”

“God no,” her mom says emphatically. “I just. We don’t know what he’s really capable of. His school records say he’s been prone to violence in the past. And he punched Jared Kleinman on the first day of school completely unprovoked.”

Zoe knows for a fact he punched Jared because Jared called Connor a school shooter. She can’t believe her mom isn’t more pissed off about that. It’s a reputation that Zoe knows she’s not in love with being attached to. 

“You’re really gonna make Connor move out again?” Zoe asks. 

“I know you love your brother,” her mom says sweetly. “But it might be what’s best for all of us.”

“Where will he go?” Zoe asks. 

“There’s some other boarding schools out East I’m looking into. And there’s always military school if the drugs don’t stop since I’ve spoken to him. He might need the discipline. He has so many problems.”

Zoe blinks a few times. 

She should own up to them. 

It would ruin her life but… she’s not sure she can stand the idea of ruining Connor’s. 

He’d kill someone with his bare hands for her. Give her the beating heart right out of his chest if she needed it. Zoe knows he’s an asshole but she also knows her brother loves her. He loves her. 

Zoe opens and closes her mouth a few times. 

“Maybe I can talk to him?” Zoe suggests softly. 

“That’s so sweet of you,” her mom says, smoothing Zoe’s hair down. “But do you really want to put yourself at risk? We both know he’s a liar.”

Zoe swallows hard. Her mom hugs her tight again. Says she can go work on her homework. 

Fuck. 

Fucking hell. 

She needs to. Be more careful or she’ll be the next one out on their ass. 

Fuck. 

* * *

The real story of Evan’s background begins to spread across the school in the last few days before spring break. It does, however, have to contend with the many, many rumors and exaggerations, so by the time the end of the week rolls around, Evan’s genuinely not sure what story’s winning.

“It’s weird,” he admits to Connor, Alana and Sabrina on the last day of school before break. “P-people keep talking about me but no one seems to agree on what the real story is.”

“People are stupid,” Sabrina points out. “This girl Emily in our trig class genuinely asked Connor what country Evan was a crown prince of.” 

“What did you tell her?” 

Connor picks up a blueberry then looks at Evan with an innocent expression. “I said you were the crown prince of Genovia.”

Sabrina cracks up laughing. “His grandmother is Julie Andrews, obviously.”

Evan has no idea what either of them are talking about, but Alana smiles like she gets the joke, then stops to explain that it’s a book and movie reference. 

“I loved that movie when I was a kid,” Sabrina says wistfully. “I thought Anne Hathaway was just so pretty.” She pauses. “In hindsight, it shouldn’t have taken me that long to figure out I was gay.”

Alana laughs. “We watched it together, remember?”

“You kept reminding me that Genovia wasn’t a real place,” Sabrina says fondly. 

They grin at each other. 

Evan knows it’s, like, not great for him to just assume that because they’re both into girls, Alana and Sabrina would make a good couple, but they’d be cute together, he thinks. 

“Oh hey,” Sabrina says suddenly, putting her bag on her lap. “I bought a new digital camera with the money I got from my dad for my birthday. We should get a photo of our lunch table.”

Connor looks interested. “You were doing all that research on which camera to get,” he says with a nod. “Happy with what you picked?”

“So happy,” Sabrina says with this big smile. “I really like taking photos?” She shrugs. “And I have a lot more free time on my hands now that I’m not partying every weekend.” Her smile fades a little. Turns a little sheepish. “Being popular was exhausting.”

“I’m sure,” says Alana, smoothing down her braids. 

Connor ends up taking the photo because he’s got the longest arms. It takes a couple of tries to get all four of them in the shot together but they get there in the end, all squished up against each other. 

There are a bunch of photos taken where they’re making stupid faces and grinning like idiots, and there’s one in particular that Evan really likes. The one where Connor’s smiling. Really smiling. This big, huge smile that lights up the whole screen. 

“Can I get a copy of that one?” Evan asks Sabrina. 

Sabrina looks at him, something curious in her expression. “Yeah, absolutely. I was gonna print some out for my wall, I can send you a copy.” She clicks to the next photo then grins. “Alana, this is a great photo of you! We should totally put it on your MySpace, you look really good.”

Alana blushes a little at the compliment, and Evan looks at Connor, trying to see if he’s noticing this as well but he doesn’t seem to. 

“Are you looking forward to San Francisco?” Connor asks Sabrina. “You’re leaving tonight, right?” 

“Yup,” she says with a smile. “I get home Friday, so maybe we could all hang out then before school goes back?”

“I’m going to be at our beach house most of the break,” Evan says. “Heidi’s taking Monday off work so we can properly hang out, and then on Tuesday Connor’s coming over. Maybe once you’re back we could do another bonfire?”

“Just the bonfire,” Connor says quickly. “We don’t need _supplies_.”

Huh. That’s...

Evan looks at him and Connor goes a little pale. “Just… my parents are kinda cracking down,” he says, a little awkwardly. “Better not risk it.”

“That’s fine,” Alana says with a nod. “We don’t _have_ to, obviously.”

Evan turns to Connor. “Did something happen?”

“No,” says Connor, a little too quickly. 

Evan frowns. 

He doesn’t like it when Connor tries to lie to him. Really doesn’t like it. But he’s not going to push, not now. 

Fuck knows how Connor’s mom could have reacted to what happened at the board meeting behind closed doors. 

He feels this awful sting of guilt at the thought. 

Evan hates the idea of making things worse for Connor. Hates the idea of his mom hurting him. Hates how tense Connor’s been this week, ever since the board meeting. 

Fuck. 

During study hall, Evan gets a pass and heads to the library, being very careful not to lock eyes with Zoe. He’s still pissed at her for trying to pump him for information. 

Still pissed at himself for letting himself think for a moment that maybe she actually cared. 

Fucking hell, people around here are the fucking worst. They say one thing and do another. Are nice to your face and turn around and stab you in the back. 

Evan likes it when things are straightforward. 

Not that things are ever straightforward. His dad could definitely run hot and cold. Some days he’d seem to actually stand Evan, maybe even like him, but other days he’d just want Evan gone. 

Or want Evan hurt. 

Fuck. Evan hates the idea of Connor’s mom hurting him. 

Connor’s been wearing eyeliner since the board meeting, which he usually doesn’t wear to school. Usually, he wears it to try to piss off his mom. 

Which makes it a weird choice just after seriously pissing her off if he wants to keep a low profile. 

Maybe his mom did hit him. Maybe he hid the bruise with more makeup.

Evan feels this jolt of guilt. He should have known. 

_Okay, time out,_ says the voice in his head. _You’ve seen Connor put eyeliner on. There’s no way he’d be able to cover a bruise well enough._

Unless his mom covered it up. 

_Do you have any idea how insane that sounds?_

On the drive home, Connor seems tense. Kind of down. 

Evan knows it’s a bad time to bring this up, but he does anyway. 

“How’s your mom been?” he asks cautiously. “Since the board meeting. She hasn’t…”

He can’t say it. 

Connor doesn’t look at him. “Hasn’t what?”

“Hasn’t done anything, has she?”

Connor lets out a shaky breath. “I mean, she yelled at me,” he says, in this deliberately light tone. “Like, a lot. But that was just at first, now she’s just giving me the silent treatment.”

Evan feels this awful coldness in his chest. 

Fuck. 

If school’s out for the week, then Connor’s going to be with his mom all the time. 

That seems like a terrible idea. Sure, he’s coming to the beach house on Tuesday, but before that?

Fuck. 

“If it’s really bad,” Evan says carefully, “then why don’t you come to the beach house early?”

Connor blinks. Looks at Evan. “Heidi wants to spend time with you,” he says. “And you want to hang out with her one-on-one.”

“I can hang out with Heidi with you there,” Evan counters. 

Connor looks like he’s going to agree for a moment, then shakes his head. 

“I don’t want to interrupt,” he says. 

Evan shakes his head. “You wouldn’t. You never do.”

Connor frowns. “You always say how much Heidi works,” he says, almost gently. “And she’s taking time off to spend with you. You deserve to have some time alone with her.”

Evan wants to argue with that. 

Really wants to argue with that. 

But Connor’s not wrong. Evan’s missed Heidi so much, and the thought of spending quality time with her is… really nice. 

It’s been a while since they’ve been able to do that. 

When they get to the bottom of the shared driveway, Evan gets out of the car then goes around to the driver’s side. Opens the door and pulls Connor into a hug. 

Connor clearly isn’t expecting it. 

“If it’s bad,” Evan says quietly, “come to the beach house. Okay? You’ll be safe there. I’ll keep you safe.” 

When they break apart, there’s this look on Connor’s face Evan can’t quite figure out. 

Evan just wants him safe. Wants him safe and happy and okay. 

“I’m okay,” Connor assures him, his voice small. “It’s going to be okay.” He smiles. “I’ll see you Tuesday, alright?”

“I’ll text you,” Evan tells him stubbornly. “Check in to make sure you’re okay.”

Connor rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Of course I do,” Evan replies immediately. “You’re my best friend and I really fucking care about you, okay?”

Connor looks like he might cry for a moment. 

Just a moment. 

Then he grins. “Sap,” he says fondly. “Go have fun at the beach house. I’ll see you soon.”

With that, he closes the door of his car and drives up his driveway. 

Evan can’t help feeling a little uneasy. 

* * *

Zoe can’t find Jared at lunch. 

She’s kind of freaking out. 

Spring break starts _tomorrow_ and she’s not gonna make it through a week at home without anything. 

Connor is being super jittery and skittish and weird. 

And Zoe knows now that Alana Beck’s pushy mom publicly accused Jared of dealing so he’s had to move everything off-campus. 

She’s freaking out a little. 

She finally finds him after school out by his car. He’s shaking hands with Tommy. 

“Wondered when I’d see you, Murph,” he says. “Your mom’s little tirade is causing a real headache for business.”

“I’m sorry,” Zoe says miserably. “I had no idea.”

“Hey nobody can actually pin anything on me,” Jared shrugs. 

Zoe nods. She gets her money out. 

“Are you retarded, Baby Quitter? I’m never selling to you again. I’m lucky Cynthia didn’t get my ass landed in fucking jail.”

Zoe feels like she’s been punched. 

“I… Come on Jared.”

“No fucking way. I don’t trust you as far as I can throw your skinny fucking brother. And he’s basically a javelin.”

Zoe feels like she’s going to lose her fucking shit right here. “Jared. Come on. Please. We’re friends.”

“Hardly. All the smack you talked about me?”

Zoe’s heart is in her throat. “Please. Come on. I’ll do whatever you want.”

Jared’s eyes drop to her chest. “Whatever I want eh?”

Zoe feels sick. 

She feels so fucking sick.

“Tell you what Murph. You meet me at my beach house in half an hour and we can talk. Sound good?”

Zoe nods numbly. 

Jared gets in his car and drives off. Zoe walks unsteadily to her car. 

Drives to the first pharmacy she can find. She did some research after last time. 

She feels kind of gross shoving her hand in her underwear in the parking lot to make sure she’s ready this time. But she… she needs to make sure she’s set through break. She’s only gonna do this once. 

Then she’ll stop. It’s just that things have sucked and she needs a distraction. But she’s gonna do this one last time and then. Then she’s gonna stop. She’s not like her mom or Connor. She can stop whenever she wants she just. Hasn’t wanted to. 

But this is the only time she’s gonna do this. 

Zoe meets Jared at the beach house. 

They head immediately to one of the bedrooms. 

“Take off your clothes,” he tells her roughly. 

Zoe obeys. Her hands are shaking so badly she can hardly get her bra unhooked. 

“No need to look so freaked out,” Jared says. He’s got his hand on himself. “It’s not gonna hurt as much this time. Promise.” He says it like he’s being _nice._ Like he’s not making her do this so he’ll sell to her. 

Zoe’s shaking really hard when he climbs on top of her. “Hey hey it’s okay,” Jared says, his voice almost gentle. He runs his hand through her hair and kisses her cheek. “It’s not gonna hurt as much, Murph. I swear. Chicks always say it’s better the second time.”

Zoe swallows hard and opens her legs wider. 

“Just relax yeah?”

He’s right. It doesn’t hurt as much as she remembers but. It still hurts. 

“Can we please stop?” Zoe asks.

“I thought you wanted to pick up Murph. This was the deal.”

“I could blow you?”

“Fuck no. You give those away for free. Brian’s got a big fucking mouth.”

Zoe feels like crying. “Please I….”

Jared raises his eyebrows. “Look, Murph. You really wanna have to go begging Chuck Skyler for whatever bullshit he’s selling?”

Zoe shakes her head. “N-no,” she says softly. 

“Then okay,” Jared says, pushing back in. 

Zoe cries out. Bites her lip and lets him keep going. It hurts. Zoe tries to pretend she’s somewhere else. Anywhere else. 

Jared pulls out this time at least. Yanks off the condom and finishes on her chest. 

She feels disgusting utterly disgusting. 

She starts to get up and Jared tells her to stay put. 

Zoe doesn’t know why. He’s already done. 

“Spread your legs a little,” he tells her. His voice sounds far away. 

He’s got a camera. 

“Jared what the fuck,” Zoe says. 

“You’re not gonna fuck things up for me again,” he says. “Say cheese.”

He takes a few photos. 

Takes a few more with his fingers inside her. 

Zoe wants to fucking scream. 

He grins at her. Drops a baggie on the bed beside her. 

“These pictures go away if you keep your mom out of my business and your brother’s attack dog away from me. Got it?”

Zoe nods frantically. 

“Good.” Jared puts the camera away. “Now. I’m a gentleman so…” He pushes his fingers in again. 

“What are you doing?”

“Well. I’m not gonna leave you hanging,” Jared says, moving his fingers more. 

“That’s okay,” Zoe basically whispers. 

“Murph, come on. I’m just trying to be nice. You scratched my back, so I’m returning the favor.”

Zoe holds very still. 

“I can go down on you?” Jared offers. 

“No that’s… it’s okay. I’m almost done,” Zoe lies. She wants this over. She wants to leave. She lets him keep going for a few minutes and then pretends. Fakes it. 

He finally pulls his fingers out again. 

Zoe sits up shakily. 

“This is fun,” Jared says. “We should keep doing this.”

Zoe vows that it’ll never happen again as she shoves the pills into her bra. Never again. 

* * *

Heidi and Evan head to the diner near the beach house for dinner on Friday night. They’re not in any hurry, so they take the time to catch up and properly talk. Heidi’s been working a lot of late nights and Evan’s been hard at work preparing for AP tests, so they haven’t seen a lot of each other. 

Heidi kind of likes that even when they do see a lot of each other, they never seem to run out of things to talk about. It’s really nice. 

As much as Heidi wanted to have kids with David and as devastated as she was each time she miscarried, she has to admit that she’s never been a hundred percent sure what to do with children. She did her best with Connor and Zoe when they were little, but David was always way better with them. He had a better imagination, a better sense of whimsy and fun. He suited being around kids. 

She’s still more than a little heartbroken he never got the chance to be a father. 

But Heidi’s never had that uncertainty with Evan. Maybe it’s because he was sixteen when they met, or maybe it’s just because he’s intelligent. There are plenty of kids his age who are just phenomenally stupid. (She once got stuck at a table with Heather Whittington’s son at some event before David died. She and David both agreed the kid was dumber than a brick.)

Then again, it could just be that Evan’s… Evan. 

Just Evan. 

Tough and smart and kinder than the things he’s been through. 

After dinner, they get some groceries for the week. Heidi jokes that she knows better than to go grocery shopping hungry, but they still end up getting a lot more junk food than they probably should, as well as a lot of ingredients for Evan to cook things. 

Evan likes to cook. Heidi thinks it’s kind of adorable. 

They end up spending the evening watching movies and eating popcorn. It’s nice. Comfortable. They both end up falling asleep about three quarters of the way through _The Sound of Music_. Heidi wakes up around 2am to find the DVD player has turned itself off and the room filled with blue light. 

She sits up and debates waking Evan so he can sleep in his own bed. 

He’s looked tired recently. He’s had a lot on his plate. 

She grabs a blanket from the side of the couch and puts it over him, deciding it’s kinder to let him rest. 

He’ll be seventeen in a few weeks. 

Heidi knows she was a little shit at seventeen. Her dad remarried in her early teens and she and her stepmom did not get along at all. At seventeen she was sneaking out every weekend to go clubbing with her friends with her fake ID, smoking and drinking far too much and running wild in a way that makes her almost grateful for the fact that Evan’s mostly staying out of trouble. 

Aside from getting arrested. 

Fuck, that feels like forever ago. 

It almost feels like he’s always been here. Always been a part of her life. There’s this weird feeling that he belongs, and it makes her almost a little sad because there’s so much she missed. So much of his life she wasn’t there for. 

So much of his life where he was alone. 

He’s not going to be alone anymore. 

She won’t let him be alone anymore. 

Heidi might not be perfect, but she cares. And she’s going to do everything she can to make this a permanent arrangement if that’s what Evan wants. 

She’ll ask on his birthday. If he wants to stay. 

She really hopes he wants to stay. 

* * *

It’s a nice weekend. Relaxing. 

Heidi doesn’t even bring her laptop, and whenever Evan tries to pull out his homework to get a head start, she rolls her eyes at him and suggests they play Scrabble or something. She seems determined that he ignore his school work, at least for a little while. 

“You can study when Connor’s here,” she says when he tries to argue. “I’ve only got a short amount of time with you. Let’s not waste it.”

They don’t. The weekend and Monday is full of board games and beach walks and cooking and reading and cheesy movies and just hanging out. 

Evan loves every second of it. 

It still kind of blows his mind that Heidi even puts up with him, so the fact that she seems to genuinely enjoy his company almost feels like a dream. 

On Monday night, they make a bonfire, toast marshmallows and make s’mores. It turns out that Heidi is a ‘light the marshmallow on fire until it’s molten in the middle’ person, whereas Evan likes to take his time to toast the marshmallow perfectly, carefully rotating it until it’s golden brown all over. 

He thinks his approach is better. It certainly involves less charcoal. 

Still, it’s nice. 

Calm and peaceful, the two of them on the beach, listening to the waves and looking at the stars. 

“So,” Heidi says as she puts together what’s probably her seventh s’more, “it’ll be nice having Connor here tomorrow, huh? A good escape from just hanging out with this old lady all week.”

“It’ll be good to see Connor,” Evan admits. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to hang out with you, too.”

Heidi grins at him. “I’d have liked to take more leave,” she says, “but then I thought I should save it for summer vacation. Maybe we could go somewhere.”

Evan’s a little taken aback. 

He’s never been anywhere on summer vacation. Ever. 

“Where do you want to go?” he asks. 

Heidi shrugs. Tilts her head. “Have you ever been out of California?” she asks. “Apart from D.C., of course.”

Evan shakes his head. “D.C. was the first time.”

Heidi nods. “Then we should definitely go somewhere.”

Evan can’t help but smile. He likes the idea of going somewhere. Seeing something. 

Even if it feels a little bit too good to be true, maybe it doesn’t hurt to dream after all. 

A thought occurs to him. 

“I’ve always wanted to see the Grand Canyon,” he says quietly. “Have you ever seen it?”

Heidi pauses. Shakes her head. Looks almost a little shocked. “It’s not even that far away,” she says, like she’s realizing this for the first time. “I think the drive is, like, nine hours, maybe? Or we could fly.” This warm smile spreads over her face, like she’s putting together a plan. “That would be so much fun. It’s supposed to be incredible. We should definitely do that.”

Evan blinks. “Really?”

Heidi grins. “Why not?” She shoves him affectionately with her shoulder. “I would never have thought about that on my own. See, kid? You’re expanding my horizons.”

Evan feels like his heart is going to burst. 

He just…

He feels like he doesn’t deserve Heidi. He knows he doesn’t deserve Heidi. 

But here she is. 

It’s completely insane that they even know each other. They’re from completely different worlds. It’s the luck of the draw that they even met. 

Evan’s had his fair share of bad luck over the years. 

Maybe the universe is finally cutting him a break. 

Heidi Herzberg is the best thing to ever happen to him. 

The best person. 

Kind and smart and brave and passionate and just the best. 

Sometimes, he’s overwhelmed with how amazing she is. 

How much she cares. 

How much he cares about her. 

“Alright then,” says Heidi with this huge smile. “Grand Canyon this summer. Doesn’t have to be the only thing we do, though. I thought I’d take a couple of weeks off so we can have a proper vacation.” She raises her eyebrows. “I could take you to Vegas.” 

Evan rolls his eyes. “You’re not taking me to Vegas.”

Heidi snorts. “Why not? I bet you’ve got a fake ID.”

“Oh my god.”

Heidi raises her eyebrows. “How else are you getting cigarettes if you don’t have a fake ID?” 

Evan feels his face turn red. “I didn’t think you knew about that,” he mutters.

Heidi grins. “I see all,” she says with this exaggerated eyebrow wiggle. “All-knowing, all-powerful.”

“Sure,” says Evan with a smile. He looks at her a little questioningly. “Do you want me to stop smoking?”

“You should think about it,” Heidi says honestly. “It’s not great for you, and you’ll save a lot of money.” She shrugs. “But I was smoking at your age, so… I feel like if I cracked down on it, I’d kind of be a hypocrite.”

“What were you like when you were my age?” Evan asks. 

Heidi laughs. “It was the late 70s,” she explains, “and I was going through my punk phase.” She looks at him. “Free advice for you, kid. Don’t try to pierce your nose with a safety pin. It’ll hurt like a bitch.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” jokes Evan.

They pack up not long after that, putting out the fire, taking everything inside and heading to sleep. Evan knows he should shower before bed but he kind of likes the way his hair smells a bit like the bonfire. 

He wakes up the next morning to Heidi gently shaking him awake. She’s in a suit for work and she looks apologetic. 

“I’m heading out,” she says. “I’ll be home by seven, okay? I’ll bring home food for you and Connor, so don't worry about cooking.”

Evan feels this weird pang inside him. 

It’s weird to realize that he doesn’t want Heidi to go back to work. 

He misses her when she’s not around. 

It’s a weird thing to realize. 

But not a bad thing. 

He ends up going back to sleep, and doesn’t wake up until he’s hit in the face with a pillow. He sits up and looks to see Connor’s let himself in and is standing there smirking at him. 

“It’s nearly noon,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Were you just planning to sleep the day away?”

“I’m on vacation,” Evan says with a roll of his eyes. “Let me live.”

Connor puts his bag down, then all but jumps on the bed and lies down next to Evan. He stops and kind of sniffs. “You smell like smoke,” he says. “Midnight cigarette?”

“No,” Evan tells him. “Bonfire with Heidi last night. We made s’mores.”

Connor blinks, then smiles. “Yeah?”

Evan nods. “Yeah.”

“That’s super cute,” Connor says, still smiling. “That’s way too cute, oh my god.”

“Shut up,” says Evan, grabbing the pillow Connor just threw at him and whacking him with it lightly. Connor’s not one to just take an attack, so before they know it they’re in a full-on pillow battle. 

It’s stupid and childish and immature and wonderful. 

They’re both lying there out of breath, looking at each other, and there’s something strange and electric pulsing through Evan’s veins. 

Something strange and unfamiliar in Connor’s eyes that Evan’s seen a million times before. 

He’s got such nice eyes. 

Evan sits up. “I should shower,” he says. “Then I’ll make eggs.” Connor wrinkles his nose. Evan gives him a look. “Did you eat at home? Be honest.” Connor shakes his head, and Evan nods. “Eggs.” 

With that, he grabs what he needs and heads to the bathroom, determined to focus on the day ahead and not the way his heart raced lying next to Connor. 

They don’t do a lot to start off with. Mostly just hang out on the beach, sitting and talking. Occasionally they’ll venture into the water for a little while but never more than just their ankles. 

When he looks out at the ocean like this, Evan wishes he could swim. 

He mentions this to Connor and Connor looks thoughtful. 

“I could teach you,” he offers. “In the summer, when it’s a bit warmer.” He frowns. “Should probably start in a pool first, sorry. No waves.”

“Makes sense,” Evan agrees, even though it makes him feel a bit uneasy. But then he thinks about floating in the Murphys’ pool. Connor helping him balance so he’s on his back, looking at the sky. How peaceful that felt. 

He can handle it, he thinks. If Connor’s there. 

It’s not until Thursday that Evan finally gets up the courage to ask Connor if he minds driving him to the mall. Connor agrees immediately, but tilts his head like he’s confused as to why Evan’s asking. 

“I just want to get a head start,” Evan explains a little awkwardly. “When we get back to school it’s going to be, like, super busy getting ready for the AP tests and I don’t want to get distracted and forget.”

“Forget about what?” Connor asks. 

Evan feels his face burn. 

Part of him doesn't want to admit this. 

It feels weird to talk about. 

“Mothers’ Day,” he mumbles. 

Connor blinks. Then his whole face brightens into this huge smile. 

“You want to get Heidi something for Mothers’ Day?”

“I know it’s weird,” Evan rushes to explain. “But, like… I don’t even know for sure if it’s, like, appropriate for me to do it, but she’s… well, she’s the closest thing to a mom that I’ve had since I was seven and she’s done so much for me and even if she’s not actually my mom I… I don’t want to miss it or forget it or… or make it seem like I don’t appreciate her? Because I do. She’s, like, the best. Meeting her is the best thing to ever happen to me, hands down, and it’s totally changed my life and brought me all sorts of amazing things and I…” He stops. Bites his lip. Shrugs. 

Suddenly, he just feels incredibly stupid. 

Connor’s looking at him, his expression fond. 

“I think that’s really nice,” Connor says after a moment. “And I’m sure she’ll love it.” He grins. “You’re definitely getting onto it early, though. Nearly two months early.”

Evan shrugs. “I know what I’m getting,” he explains. “I don’t want to rush. And I really don’t want to be freaking out last minute because I forgot.” He makes a face. “Remember how much I fucked up at Christmas?”

Connor laughs a little. “Hey, I still have that Koosh ball.”

Evan rolls his eyes. “Nice to know it was good for something.”

Connor slings his arm around Evan’s shoulder. “Come on,” he says fondly, “let’s be normal teenagers and go to the mall or some shit.”

It’s a hell of a lot easier to navigate the mall when you know what you’re doing, and this time Evan actually has a plan. He has a photo of him and Heidi from Christmas Day at the Murphys that actually turned out really nice. Weirdly enough, Zoe had taken it back when they were still speaking to each other. She emailed it to him and he saved it onto a flash drive, ready to be printed as a photo. 

Once he’s got the photo printed, he starts looking for a frame. Something nice, not too cheesy. Evan spends a lot of time going through frames, trying to find something that doesn’t suck. 

After a while, Connor clearly seems a little bored. 

“I might be a while,” Evan says apologetically. “Did you wanna, like, check out Hot Topic or the bookstore or something?”

Connor shrugs. “Sure. Text me when you’re done, yeah?”

It doesn’t take long after Connor’s gone to find something that’ll suit Heidi. Evan buys it, then as he’s about to leave the store, remembers something. He pulls out the flash drive again and gets a few more photos printed. The guy behind the counter is happy to let him put the photos in the frames right there. Evan thinks they look pretty good. 

He texts Connor to ask where he is, and pretty soon Connor’s coming out of Hot Topic, grinning at him. Evan hands him a photo frame. 

“What’s this?” Connor asks. 

Evan shrugs. “Sabrina sent me this photo of us at lunch last week,” he explains. “I wanted a copy for my room. Figured you might, too.”

Connor looks at the photo for a long moment. Smiles slowly. 

“If it’s lame, you don’t have to keep-”

“Fuck off,” Connor interrupts, smiling even wider. “Of course I’ll keep it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "Saturday" by Fall Out Boy.


	46. You Shouldn’t Think What You’re Feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spring break continues. Heidi and Evan celebrate their first Passover as a family.

Connor wakes up on Friday morning in Evan’s bedroom at the beach house. 

It’s been good, being here. Getting out of his parents' house for a few days. Away from his mom. She’s kind of pissed that Connor’s here, but his dad shouted her down on Monday night when she started her “Evan Hansen is a Criminal” tirade yet again. 

So it’s good being here. 

Connor wakes up in Evan’s bed to find Evan’s arms wrapped tightly around his middle. 

It’s… a lot. 

It’s a lot to deal with early in the morning. Evan’s so warm. His head is resting against his shoulder. He’s breathing evenly against Connor’s collarbone. 

Evan’s… so close. 

He’s so warm and so close and all Connor would need to do is dip his head down slightly and he could kiss him. 

That’s too much for first thing in the morning. 

Way too fucking much. 

Connor sneaks out from Evan’s grasp, heads into the bathroom to pee and wash his hands and face. He brushes his teeth. 

Heads into the kitchen where he sees Heidi drinking a cup of coffee in her suit. “You’re up early,” She says, smiling at him a little. “Want some coffee?”

Connor nods. 

“You still taking it black?” Heidi asks. 

Connor smiles. “Sugar would be good.”

Heidi smiles. Drops his cup of coffee in front of him and pats his cheek. “You two behave today,” Heidi says. “And if you’re going to be out on the beach, make sure you put some sunscreen on. Your nose is a little bit pink.”

Connor ducks his head and smiles. “Will do.”

“Make sure my kid does too. I don’t need him getting skin cancer, alright?”

“Got it,” Connor says with a smile. 

He watches Heidi go look in on Evan. Then she grabs her bag and says she’ll be back by seven at the latest. Connor sighs. 

Decides to go take his coffee outside since Evan’s not up yet. He feels a little bit like a shithead for smoking on Heidi’s porch so Connor goes and sits on the sand and drinks his coffee. Has a cigarette. It’s not quite sunny yet; the horizon is covered in fog. It’s still beautiful. 

“Hey, there you are,” Evan’s voice says. Connor turns and smiles at him. “Heidi leave for work?”

“Yeah, maybe ten minutes ago.”

Evan settles on the sand beside Connor. Right next to him. He yawns sleepily, then leans over and steals Connor’s coffee cup. He pulls a face and complains that there’s no milk. Then he rests his chin on Connor’s shoulder for a second, his arm around him. “What do you wanna do today?”

Connor cannot answer because sleepy-cuddly Evan is all over him and his brain has officially stopped working, error 404 Connor not found, in his head he’s totally just in some kinda bullshit romantic comedy montage where he and Evan run at each other on a beach and kiss and -

A car door shuts. 

Evan and Connor both jump. 

When they turn to look, Connor’s surprised to see his dad stepping out of his car. “Morning boys,” He says, far too cheerful for someone before nine am. 

“Dad? Don’t you have work?”

He smiles. He’s grabbing his surfboard off the top of the car. “I’m playing hooky today.” He carries the surfboard down the sand toward them. “I’m gonna hit the waves for a little bit, and then how about I take you to the batting cages?”

Connor sort of smiles. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. You’ve both had a helluva month. You deserve to be allowed to hit something.”

Connor grins at Evan. Evan’s eyebrows pinch together. “I’ve never been to batting cages before.”

“It can be kinda fun,” Connor says.

“I don’t even know if I can hit a ball.”

“Didn’t you have to play softball in gym this year?”

Evan shrugs. “I wasn’t, like, good.”

“One of us will show you. It’s not so bad.” He shoves Evan’s shoulder lightly. He’s just noticed how rosy Evan’s cheeks are. “Heidi yelled at me to make sure both of us wore sunblock today.”

Evan rolls his eyes. “Yeah, you definitely need it. Your nose is all pink.”

“Hey don’t come for me, freckles,” Connor laughs. 

They sit on the sand and watch Connor’s dad surf for a while. He’s actually pretty good. Always seems to be having fun while he’s doing it. Naturally, Connor’s an asshole so every time his dad wipes out or doesn’t quite manage to stay standing, he makes a huge deal out of standing up and cheering and shouting out scores for “creativity.”

His dad flips him off at a distance and Connor laughs his ass off. 

His dad’s so fucking weird. 

Evan is watching this like it’s his favorite TV show or something. Like it’s entertaining and fascinating all at once. Connor supposes that… Mark and Evan probably haven’t had a lot of laughs or playful teasing over the years. 

That sucks.

He and his dad weren’t always like this. Hell, before boarding school, Connor was pretty sure he would kill his dad (but only if Larry didn’t kill him first). They fought all the time. 

Connor’s dad told him he’s in therapy. He started going after…

After Connor tried to kill himself. 

It seems to have… helped. At least from Connor’s point of view. His dad’s not such a hardass all the time anymore. They get along way better. 

“Was he really?” Evan asks when Connor tells him this. “A hardass? I can’t see it.”

Connor nods. “Oh yeah. He was always pissed at me about something. One time we got into a fight that was so loud one of our neighbors called the cops.”

“What was the fight about?” Evan asks. 

Connor shrugs. “No idea. I was high.”

Evan fixes him with a look. “Do you actually not remember a lot of stuff from when you were doing dr-drugs?” He asks. “Or… or do you just not want to?”

Connor feels a blush creep up his neck. His whole face feels flushed and it has nothing to do with too much sun. Evan always seems to just… see right through his bullshit. 

“A little of both,” Connor admits. “There are things that I… just don’t remember. That I only know I did because of pictures or, uh, stories. But there’s other stuff… that I just don’t wanna think about. Stuff I’m not even sure was real. Stuff… stuff I hope wasn’t.”

Evan nods. “That’s gotta be hard.” 

Connor shrugs. “Not as hard as living with me back then.” He watches his dad manage to catch a pretty big wave. It’s impressive, seeing him rush across the water that way. “I don’t know why he forgives me.”

Evan gives Connor this soft, warm look. His face is… so open and his voice is earnest when he says, “Because you’re trying.”

Once Connor’s dad has put some damn clothes on (Connor’s words) and they’ve all eaten some breakfast (drive-thru McDonalds), they head to the batting cages. Connor’s actually kind of psyched because he hasn’t been since his dad last took him and he could definitely afford to hit some stuff in a productive manner. 

Connor’s dad insists that Evan takes the first turn, and Evan shakes his head and his face gets all pink as he explains that no, really, he’s actually never done this before. 

“Okay, well, take a couple of swings first and we’ll help you out.” 

Evan gives Connor a face that suggests he would rather snack on some rusty nails, but he sets his shoulders and takes the helmet offered to him. The first ball is pitched from the machine and Evan swings. The ball connects, but only just barely, and it sort of bounces off of the bat. 

The second pitch comes and this one Evan just totally misses. 

“T-t-t-told you I’d suck at this,” He calls to Connor and Larry. 

“No you don’t,” His dad replies easily. “You just haven’t had enough practice. Try widening your grip on the bat.”

“I don’t see how that’s gonna -”

Evan hits the ball again. A bit better this time. It arcs gracefully up and then down again. 

“I d-d-don’t have good enough hand-eye coordination,” Evan grumbles under his breath. 

“Sure you do,” Connor’s dad says happily. “You gave Jared Kleinman a black eye, didn’t you?”

Evan stares at him. 

Connor’s dad laughs. He’s fucking enjoying this. 

“Here, okay, let me help you,” Connor says. He puts on his own helmet and heads inside the cage. “You’re all bunched up,” Connor says. He prods Evan’s back, right between his shoulder blades, and Evan sort of rolls his shoulders until they relax. It’s a bit mesmerizing to see, how his muscles and bones work together. 

“Here, okay, you’re standing really close to the plate,” Connor says. He sort of grabs Evan by the hips and gently steers him back a little. “Try maybe standing with your legs shoulder-width apart,” Connor says, nudging Evan’s left foot with the toe of his shoe.

“Like this?”

Connor nods, “Yeah, perfect.” He smiles. “Okay, so you wanna make sure you’re holding the bat properly. You don’t want it too far over your shoulder…” Connor sort of stands behind Evan a bit, helping him to position the bat properly. “Cool, great. So then you wanna swing.”

Evan nods. 

“So like. It’s not really… like. Just your arms. You wanna, like… Move your whole body with it. So like… your hips should move too?”

“Right.” 

“Here,” Connor says, and he kind of slow-motion pushes the bat through how it would be to swing, making sure Evan’s hips move with the turn. “Yeah, like that.”

“Cool.”

“And you wanna really like. Swing like you mean it. Like you’re smashing in the face of someone you really fucking hate, yeah?”

Evan nods determinedly. 

“Okay, go again,” Connor says. 

“Eye on the ball,” Larry calls happily. Connor thinks for the millionth time that his dad would have been a lot happier if he got jocks for kids instead of weirdo gay kids. Maybe if Zoe ever comes out and admits to liking girls she’ll join a softball team. 

The next pitch launches… 

And Evan’s bat crashes against the ball hard, driving it in a straight line down to the net where it bounces. 

“Holy shit,” Evan breathes. 

Connor laughs and his dad claps and cheers. Evan’s really smiling and he goes a few more times, hitting the ball hard and sending it flying each time. He hits the ball like he fucking means it. It’s impressive. 

Connor takes his turn, and the whole time his dad gives him shit, whistling and teasing him and telling Evan about the time when Connor was on the little league team and he got distracted up at bat by some dumb fucking thing Tommy Whittington was doing and totally got hit in the balls by the ball. 

“Oh god,” Evan says laughing. 

“Yeah, it was not awesome,” Connor says, sending his next pitch crashing aggressively into the net. “I like. Totally thought I was dying.” 

“I’ve never seen anything so dramatic in my life,” His dad says with another laugh. “He  _ laid down  _ on home base and just wailed ‘WHY???’ at the sky for a good two minutes.”

Connor shakes his head, laughing a little. “I was  _ eight.”  _ He hits the next ball that comes hurtling toward him. Swing through, the bat connecting hard, the ball flying into the net. If Connor didn’t hate organized sports or running, he’d totally play baseball. If they let people just hit the ball and never have to run or catch he’d go fucking pro. 

“I knew you were hurt but it was very hard to take you seriously when you were, like, flopping around on the ground like someone had just murdered your whole family,” His dad says. 

“I’m about to murder my whole family,” Connor jokes back. “Because  _ someone _ keeps telling embarrassing stories about me as a little kid.”

“Yeah yeah fuck you too,” Larry laughs. “Evan. Did Heidi ever tell you about the olive eyeballs?” His dad says excitedly. Connor had forgotten just how much his dad loves to embarrass him. He never would have agreed to this if he knew it was going to be Embarrassing Connor Hour. 

“Dad, come  _ on _ -”

“Or about the hamster funeral?” Larry asks, delighted. 

“Okay, that was  _ Zoe, _ ” Connor complains. “And Ice Cream was a gerbil.”

“You read a Bible verse for Ice Cream.”

“Well, yeah, I liked him. He was a good gerbil.”

“They made invitations,” His dad tells Evan with a grin. “For Heidi and David. Connor wrote them in his best cursive.”

Connor feels his face heat up. “I was really into penmanship for a minute there. Before Mrs. G was a total bitch.”

Evan’s laughing. “Oh my god, that’s so fucking cute.” He looks at Connor’s dad, embarrassed. “Sorry for swearing.”

“No. You’re right. It was totally fucking cute,” his dad says affectionately. 

* * *

Evan has to admit, he’s actually having fun. 

He wasn’t expecting to enjoy going to the batting cages as much as he is.

He also wasn’t expecting Connor to enjoy it as much as he obviously is. 

There’s something kind of mesmerizing about the way Connor moves when he’s hitting the ball. The way his arms and shoulders move, the way his angular body forms even more interesting angles. The obvious strength in his movements, the way the ball cracks against the bat. 

It’s interesting to watch. 

Interesting. 

Evan’s always kind of enjoyed watching Connor. That seems like a really fucking weird thing to say, but he just thinks that Connor’s nice to look at. Especially like this, when he’s concentrating on the ball and totally focused and he gets this smile on his face when the ball hits the bat and goes flying. 

When it’s his turn again, Evan still isn’t sure he’s doing it right and there’s this weird part of his brain that’s urging him to ask Connor to show him what to do again. Wants to ask Connor to touch his shoulders, his hips, to guide him back into the proper stance. 

_ That’s pretty fucking gay,  _ the voice in his head tells him.  _ Wanting him to touch you. _

It’s not… 

Evan doesn’t know. Isn’t sure. 

He just knows that he likes it when Connor’s close. Likes having him close, likes being in contact with him. Likes it when Connor’s touching him. 

Maybe that  _ is  _ gay. 

Or maybe he’s just totally fucking touch starved because his dad only ever touched him to beat the shit out of him and his mom died when he was fucking seven and human beings are supposed to have physical contact as part of their emotional wellbeing. And touch deprivation is actually a thing, it’s something that is increasingly common in the western world because of social norms around physical contact and it’s especially bad for men because of hangups around homosexuality so really, what Evan’s actually doing when he wants to be touching his best friend is ignoring stupid and harmful social conventions and taking care of his wellbeing. 

Obviously. 

That makes a lot more sense than him being gay. Because he really doesn’t, like,  _ feel  _ gay. Not that he thinks that there’s anything wrong with being gay, it just doesn’t seem quite right. 

Maybe he’s not, like the straightest person to ever be straight, but he doesn’t think he’s gay. 

Alana might be onto something about the whole spectrum thing. Evan doesn’t know. 

Mr. Murphy takes them to the diner near the beach house for lunch once they’ve finally tired themselves out at the batting cages. Evan’s pleased to see that Connor doesn’t just order soup this time. He even helps himself to some of Evan’s fries. 

It’s been nice to see Mr. Murphy and Connor together. Evan’s just really glad that Connor’s got a dad who’s a proper dad. He doesn’t even want to think about how much Connor would have suffered without having at least one adult in his life who supported him over the last few months. 

He still doesn’t get why Mrs. Murphy is the way she is.

It doesn’t make a lot of sense. 

Evan supposes that he doesn’t really get mothers. His own mother died when he was so young, and his memories of her are hazy, but he doesn’t think she’d act the way Mrs. Murphy does. He thinks that if his mom were still alive, she’d be more like Heidi. Not a pushover by any means, but full of love and warmth. 

Mrs. Murphy is… not warm. 

At all. 

Although Evan supposes that he isn’t in a position where he’d see that side of her, even if it did exist. 

He remembers what Zoe said about her mom being different when she was younger. Remembers Connor saying how he used to spend a lot of time with his mom when he was a kid. Part of Evan feels like that’s making excuses but another part of him thinks that he doesn’t have any room to judge. Not really. 

He spent so much time pretending to be someone else. 

Everyone around here is pretending. 

At least now that everyone knows who he is, he doesn’t have to pretend anymore. 

He can’t say he’s not relieved to finally be free of the lie. 

Relieved, but a little bit… surprised. 

It hasn’t exactly been fun or easy, but it’s not as bad as he thought it might be. He hasn’t lost as much as he feared he would. 

He’s still got Connor. And he didn’t lose Alana or Sabrina when he told them the truth. Weirdly, Evan’s pretty sure that Connor’s dad, like, actually has his back. 

He’d been so afraid he’d lose everything. 

That fear isn’t gone, exactly, but it has ebbed. 

Maybe he’ll always be afraid. He doesn’t know. 

But he thinks he can deal with the fear now. 

Connor excuses himself and heads to the bathroom, and Mr. Murphy smiles at Evan. “Did you have a good time?” he asks. 

Evan smiles back. “I did, actually.” He smiles wider. “If y-you ever want to tell me more embarrassing stories about Connor, I’m always here for them.” 

Mr. Murphy laughs. “I think I’ve embarrassed him enough for today,” he says fondly. Something in his expression settles. “Might hit the waves again when we’re done with lunch,” he says wistfully. “Day off, I should get in as much surf as I can.” He looks at Evan. “You surf?”

Evan shakes his head. “I c-can’t even swim.”

Mr. Murphy looks surprised, then looks like he’s remembering something. “If I remember correctly, neither can Heidi. I kept telling her she had to learn if she was going to live right by the beach.”

“W-we talked about learning together,” Evan says cautiously. “And when I do learn… surfing c-could be cool.”

Mr. Murphy grins. “Hey, if this old man from the east coast can surf, a kid from California can definitely manage it. I don’t know if I’d be a good teacher, but I'm sure there are instructors around.” His grin widens. “Could be a good summer project.” 

“Not a bad idea, Mr. Murphy.”

Mr. Murphy raises his eyebrows. “Seriously, Evan, please call me Larry.”

“Okay,” Evan says awkwardly. “Larry.”

Larry looks right at him, something serious in his expression. “I know things have been tough for you,” he says, his voice careful. “And not just since you’ve been here in Newport. I know from personal experience it’s not the easiest community to come into as an outsider, and I didn’t have nearly the struggles you had.” He pauses. Nods. “I just want you to know that I’m glad you’re here. You’ve made a real difference for Connor this year. To Heidi, too.”

Evan feels his face go red. He’s definitely uncomfortable with the praise. “I d-don’t know if I’m making things  _ easier  _ for Heidi, exactly,” he says, a little hesitant. 

Larry’s face twists into this strange smile. “Maybe not,” he admits. “But you’ve definitely made things better.” 

Evan doesn’t know if he agrees, but he’s not about to argue. 

* * *

Sabrina gets back from San Francisco on Friday afternoon. When she flies into LAX, her dad’s there to meet her. Before heading back home, he takes her out for dinner and they catch up. 

Well, mostly Sabrina tells her dad about her trip. Sightseeing and shopping and cooking with her grandparents, spending most evenings curled up in front of the television watching Bollywood movies - it had been kind of perfect. Exactly what she needed out of spring break. 

Getting out of Orange County was exactly what she needed. 

Out of Orange County and away from Zoe. From anything that reminds her of Zoe. 

Except of course that everything reminds her of Zoe. 

When she gets home, she puts a whole bunch of photos on her MySpace page. She took a truly ridiculous amount of photos while she was away, spending a lot of time getting the feel for the camera. There are shots of tourist attractions, sure, but also some great ones of her grandparents. Some cool black and white shots of flowers and scenery and basically anything that caught her attention. 

On Saturday morning, she gets a text from Connor, inviting her and Alana to come to Heidi’s beach house that afternoon. Sabrina calls Alana immediately to find out if she’s going. 

“I mean, I haven’t quite finished all of the studying I wanted to do,” Alana says, sounding a little hesitant.

“How much time have you spent studying over spring break?” Sabrina asks. 

“I haven’t done much else,” Alana admits, “but it’s important.”

“You can take a break,” Sabrina tells her. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Look, we can study together on Sunday, okay? If I can stay at your beach house on Saturday night, I promise we can have a study date on Sunday before school goes back.”

Alana doesn’t take too much convincing after that. 

Sabrina says she’ll pick Alana up around 2, then gets ready to go out. She’s hoping to spend as little time as possible in the house. She hasn’t actually seen her mom since before she went to San Francisco and if she’s lucky, she’ll keep it that way. 

Things with her mom have been tense, to say the very least. Tense and weird and just horribly uncomfortable. She won’t even talk to Sabrina anymore. Won’t acknowledge her if she sees her around the house. Just glares at her like Sabrina’s single-handedly ruined her entire life. 

Which, Sabrina guesses, her mom probably thinks that she has. 

There’s a part of her that feels a little bit bad about all of it. Her mom has worked really hard for her place in society. Worked for years and years. And all it took was one lousy MySpace post to bring the whole thing crashing down around her. 

At the same time, though, if it could all be lost so easily, how could it possibly be something it’s possible to rely on? You spend all your time trying to build your reputation on something that can be destroyed in a second. Surely that’s kind of pointless. 

Sabrina’s done just being a pawn in her mother’s life. Being something she can just move around and mold to get what she wants. 

It’s not Sabrina’s fault she’s gay. It’s not anyone’s fault, it just is. 

And despite all the insanity, Sabrina can honestly say that she doesn’t regret her decision to come out. 

She spends the day driving around, finding cool things to photograph. It’s nice, actually, spending time just by herself. Listening to music, driving in her car and just existing. 

She’s not lonely. 

She’s not. 

Just…

Well, she’s glad she’ll be with friends soon. 

It’s like her whole life has changed completely in such a short amount of time, and now time is the one thing she has an abundance of. She didn’t realize just how much time it took to be popular. How much time she spent partying and getting ready for parties and just… being someone who people paid attention to. 

Being someone who mattered. 

That’s not a fair thought, she knows. Everyone matters, regardless of how much social status they have. But the actual having and keeping of social status?

That shit is exhausting. 

Sabrina doesn’t miss it. 

And the moments she does miss it, she doesn’t miss the work it took or the way people looked at her. 

What she misses is being around Zoe. Seeing her smile. Making her laugh, seeing her in the moments where she wasn’t pretending. 

So really, it’s not being popular she misses at all. 

Sabrina ends up getting some amazing shots out near the cliffs and doesn’t realize how late it’s gotten until Alana’s calling her, asking where she is. She apologizes profusely, jumps in her car and goes to get Alana. 

“What were you even doing?” Alana asks once she’s in the car. 

“Taking photos,” Sabrina explains. “I got a really good handle on my new camera in San Fran and I guess I just lost track of time.”

Once they get to Heidi’s beach house, Alana insists on seeing these photos, and they flick through them in the car for a while. Long enough for Evan to tap on the window and ask them what the hell they’re doing. 

They all end up heading inside the house, hooking up Sabrina’s camera to Connor’s laptop and looking through all her photos. Connor seems really interested and asks if he can see her camera properly. 

“I know nothing about photography,” Connor admits, looking at the camera intently, “but I know what I like. And these are awesome.” 

It’s nice, having someone appreciate something you’ve worked hard on. 

They all sit on the beach for a while, just talking and catching up. Connor and Evan have spent most of the week here, apparently. Evan tells them how Connor’s dad took them to the batting cages, which sounds a little insane to Sabrina at first. 

“Dad thinks it’s a useful way to channel anger or frustration,” Connor tells them. “Being able to just hit something.”

“And apparently I’m not allowed to punch people anymore,” Evan says with an exaggerated sigh. 

“You are absolutely not allowed to punch people anymore,” Connor says firmly, looking at him seriously. “No more fights. You promised.”

“I did promise,” Evan says with a nod. “Can’t go getting my ass kicked out of school. I wouldn’t leave you to deal with those vultures alone, you know that.”

They grin at each other. Sabrina picks up her camera and snaps a couple of photos. 

It takes a moment for them to notice she’s got her camera out. Evan looks alarmed and Connor rolls his eyes, muttering dramatically about the paparazzi. 

Sabrina takes a few more shots of the group just goofing around for good measure. It’s different from photographing nature, or scenery. Taking photos of people is a whole other vibe and Sabrina thinks she likes it best of all. All these tiny details she notices about people that she might not have seen before. 

It means you’re really looking. 

After a while, Evan announces that he’s going to cook them all dinner. Alana offers to help immediately. 

“Kitchen’s kind of small,” Evan says, almost apologetically. “So I probably only have room for one person.” 

He looks at Connor, who shrugs. Smiles a little awkwardly. “Alana can help,” he says. “I don’t mind sitting out here for a bit longer.” 

“It’s not like I’m doing anything super fancy,” Evan says. “Just grilling some chicken and some vegetables.” 

“I’ll help you get them ready,” says Alana, and they both head into the house, leaving Sabrina and Connor alone on the beach. 

The sun is only just starting to set a little. Sabrina doesn’t think she’s going to get the most amazing photo in the world, but she’ll give it a go. She looks out to the horizon and aims her camera, trying to capture what might be uncapturable. 

Connor sits next to her, looking out at the ocean. He seems lost in thought. 

Sabrina snaps another photo of him when he’s not looking. 

“Oh, very brooding hero,” she teases him, pulling up the photo and showing him.

Connor immediately rolls his eyes. “Ugh, no, that looks… no.”

“I think it’s interesting,” Sabrina says, looking at the way his hair looks like it’s moving in the photo, captured by the breeze. The angles of his face and the crooked line of his nose, along with eyes that remind her of Zoe. 

Connor rolls his eyes again. Takes the camera from Sabrina. “I wanna see the others,” he says, and starts flicking through her most recent photos.

Well, flicking through isn’t the right word. He seems genuinely interested. He takes time with each picture, looking at it and considering it like it matters. Keeps going through the photos of the sky and the sea until he reaches the ones that are just the group goofing around. 

There’s this photo of Alana mid-laugh, looking young and carefree, and it’s so different from how she usually looks that it’s almost like she’s a different person. 

A photo of Evan talking using his hands that captures the movement, freezes it in time. It’s striking. It makes him look confident. 

Connor making a stupid face, deliberately trying to be silly, and it’s completely ridiculous but oddly endearing. 

And then there’s a photo of Connor and Evan looking at each other. 

And Sabrina feels her chest ache a little. 

Connor’s staring at the photo, his eyes wide, and she knows he’s seeing what she’s seeing. He’s seeing the way Connor looks at Evan with this light in his eyes, this look of absolute adoration. The way he looks at Evan like he’s put the stars in the sky, like he’s the most impossible, most wonderful thing. 

He looks at Evan like someone who is hopelessly, completely in love. 

“You must think I’m an idiot,” Connor says quietly. “I’m so fucking obvious.”

“I don’t think you’re an idiot,” Sabrina tells him immediately. 

She thinks that maybe she’s seeing something he isn’t. 

Because Evan’s looking back at Connor, and there’s light in his eyes, too. Light and affection and wonder and something that isn’t quite fully formed yet, but it’s something. 

A spark. A wondering. 

She’s not going to mention it to Connor just yet, but she’s starting to suspect that it might not be so unrequited after all. 

* * *

Evan is unsurprised to find that Alana takes chopping vegetables extremely seriously. He’s never seen chopping so precise in his life. Still, she’s good to work with and she definitely keeps the conversation going. 

“It’s nice to be doing something a little more laidback,” she says. “I’ve just been so busy with studying and getting ready for school board events and of course helping plan the junior prom it’s nice to just relax.” 

“You have had some time off over spring break, right?” Evan asks. 

Alana shrugs. “Sabrina was in San Francisco, so I had to keep busy.”

Aha. 

Right. 

So there  _ is  _ something going on between Sabrina and Alana, then. 

Alana seems to notice Evan’s look and backtracks a little. “Sabrina’s my best friend these days,” she says, a little defensively. “I missed her while she was away.” She looks at Evan pointedly. “Not all of us can spend a whole week on the beach with their best friend.” 

“It’s been awesome,” Evan can’t help but say. “We just had so much fun.”

“What have you been up to?”

“Not a whole lot,” Evan admits. “Just… I think it’s about the company, you know?”

Alana smiles. “I know.”

Well, that just confirms it further, as far as Evan is concerned. Either they have a thing, or Alana likes Sabrina. 

They’d definitely be cute together. 

He has no fucking clue how to, like, matchmake or whatever, but he thinks he’s onto something here, so he’s going to try to figure it out. 

“So junior prom,” Evan ventures as Alana neatly puts a salad together. “Are you thinking of taking anyone?”

Alana shakes her head. “I’ll be busy,” she says, extremely matter-of-factly. “There’s not a lot of point in taking a date if I’ll never get a chance to talk to her. It seems rude.”

“Right,” says Evan, aiming for a casual tone. “B-but the right person would understand, w-wouldn’t she? She’d know that you’re… you know, you, and you-you g-get involved and organize things. So… it’s not a reason to j-just not ask.”

Alana looks at Evan quizzically. Frowns. Opens her mouth like she’s going to ask something, then just… doesn’t. 

Weird. 

She might not be ready to talk about it. 

Evan’s not going to push. 

It doesn’t take too long to finish cooking dinner. They end up eating on the porch, looking out to the ocean. Everyone seems to be enjoying the meal. Even Connor, and Evan knows it’s not easy for him. He grins at him widely, trying to encourage him. To show him that he’s noticed and he appreciates the effort. 

Connor assures them he’ll sort out the dishes, and Sabrina goes to help, so Alana and Evan set up a bonfire before it gets too dark. Evan brings out some picnic blankets and the rest of the stuff for making s’mores and they settle in for the evening. 

Alana and Connor get into a heated debate about something that Evan’s not even following, so he turns to Sabrina while they’re busy and asks her about her trip. 

“It was really amazing,” she says with a smile. “But it’s good to be home.”

“I guess there are people you miss here,” Evan ventures. 

Sabrina gets this sad, faraway look in her eye. “Yeah,” she says quietly. “There are.”

It makes something in Evan’s chest ache a little. 

Is there something weird between them?

Are Alana and Sabrina, like, having some kind of fight and hiding it from Evan and Connor? 

He hopes not. That sounds like it would make lunch way too complicated. 

“Everything okay?” Evan asks as gently as he can.

Sabrina blinks. Smiles. Nods. “Everything’s good.”

Evan bites his lip. “Just… if there’s something bothering you, you can talk to me. About whatever, I… I’m an okay listener.”

Sabrina smiles a real smile this time. “Thank you,” she says. “Maybe one day I’ll take you up on that.”

They make s’mores. Talk about school and upcoming AP tests and stupid things that don’t matter at all and it’s just wonderful. 

Evan feels like maybe, just maybe, he’s a normal teenager. 

When the bonfire finally burns out, it’s nearly two in the morning. Heidi’s long since come home and gone to bed. Alana and Sabrina both look exhausted, but they assure Evan that Sabrina’s fine to drive the two minutes down the road to get to Alana’s beach house. 

Connor and Evan put out the fire, pack up everything and head inside. They’re both exhausted so end up basically just crawling into bed as soon as they’re in their pajamas. 

Connor smells like bonfire smoke. 

It’s intoxicating. Evan can’t get enough of it. He just lies there and breathes it in. 

“Do you think Sabrina and Alana are a thing?” Evan asks as he’s starting to drift off. 

Connor’s slow to respond, but when he does, he sounds confused. “No?”

“They’re both lesbians. Not that that means… but they’re friends? And they’re both… nice.”

“Trust me,” Connor says, sounding genuinely confident. “They’re not a thing.”

“How do you know?” Evan asks. 

Connor sighs. “Just do,” he murmurs. 

“I think you're wrong,” Evan counters.

Connor yawns. “Okay. Why?”

“They were best friends in middle school,” Evan points out. “People fall in love with their best friends all the time. It’s… in books and movies and stuff.”

There’s this long, weird pause. 

“I think that’s straight people,” Connor says, his voice kind of weird. “But sure.”

Evan sighs. Closes his eyes. 

He can still smell the bonfire. 

It’s nice and warm. 

He drifts off. 

* * *

Evan falls asleep and Connor lies there panicking. 

_ “People fall in love with their best friends all the time.” _

Does he know? Does he know how Connor feels? If he knows, Connor is absolutely fucked. Totally fucked. He’ll stop talking to Connor without a doubt. He’s fine with Connor being gay in theory, but every time Connor has hooked up with someone, Evan’s been weird about it. He must think Connor’s so pathetic and gross and….

Sabrina knows. 

Connor kind of hates that she knows. She took that picture… 

God, Connor looks like a lovesick puppy or some shit in that picture. His face is all soft and dopey and mushy. 

Christ this is all gonna blow up. Evan’s definitely going to catch on if he hasn’t already. He’s… he’s going to be disgusted. 

Even if he’s not totally grossed out by the fact that Connor’s a  _ guy  _ (which, who is he kidding, Evan’s not gonna be chill with that. He knows the sort of shit Evan grew up around. Even if he swears he doesn’t share his dad’s feelings on gay people, that stuff gets in your bones. Connor knows he’s got plenty of his own hang-ups because of stuff his parents have said.), Evan’ll be disgusted because Connor is. Connor. 

He’s a mess. 

An obvious pathetic mess. 

Best friend or not, Connor knows that shit doesn’t hold up to scrutiny. Everyone knows why Sabrina stopped being friends with Alana in middle school. Alana had the biggest, most obvious crush back then. Even if Sabrina’s mom hadn’t told her to keep her distance, she would have probably ditched Alana by eighth grade anyway. Nobody wants to be around someone who has a sad dumb crush on them. It’s uncomfortable. 

In his sleep, Evan shifts a bit. Throws his arm around Connor’s waist. Pulls him in before Connor’s totally registered what’s happening. 

And like every other time it’s happened, Connor wonders. For like. A second. If Evan could possibly… 

_ No.  _

He tells himself this firmly. 

He rolls away from Evan. Out of his grasp, his back to Evan, out of the reach of his arms. 

This bed is huge anyway. 

Evan doesn’t want him that way. He’s never gonna want Connor like that. Connor knows. He  _ knows _ . 

He wishes he could just turn it off. Evan’s the best friend he’s ever had. Connor doesn’t want to ruin it by being pathetic and all full of fucking  _ feelings.  _ He knows it’s never gonna happen. 

But then Evan sighs frustratedly in his sleep and murmurs, “Come  _ here. _ ”

And he’s right there. Nestled against Connor’s back, his arm wrapping around Connor’s waist tightly. 

Connor knows he should shove him off. That he’s being gross and taking advantage of whatever dream Evan’s having about some fucking girl who is too far away. 

But he lets Evan hold him. 

Stupidly. He’s so stupid. 

Evan’s hand gently brushes over Connor’s stomach, the way someone might like. Strum a guitar. 

Connor should stop this. 

Evan’s fingers catch on the hem of Connor’s shirt. Push it up slightly so that his hand is resting flat against Connor’s bare stomach and he can’t believe how fast his heart is pounding. How tightly he’s holding himself, terrified of what would come if Evan woke up and realized what they’ve been doing. 

Connor needs to stop this. He needs to get up and pull away and sleep on the sofa because he is being gross and weird and taking advantage and it’s not fair of him to be doing. 

He’s being a total creep. Letting Evan put his sleepy hands on him and his gross, creepy looking body. 

He needs to put a stop to this. 

“Come on,” he mutters quietly. He moves Evan’s arm, dead weight on him. 

Evan’s voice surprises Connor. “What?”

“You're hogging the bed,” Connor replies. He hopes his voice doesn’t give him away. 

“Sorry.” Evan scoots away. 

Connor misses him immediately. 

He turns to face Evan. He’s out like a light. Totally asleep. He doesn’t know what he’s been doing. Connor is awful for letting him. He should have woken him up and told him to knock it off. 

Connor shuts his eyes tight. He needs to go to sleep. 

Evan lets out another little whine. 

Grabs Connor around the waist again. Connor’s shirt is still pushed up so there’s skin on skin and he’s too tired to fight it. 

He lets Evan hold him and goes to sleep. 

* * *

Zoe is having a good time. If she lets the buzz take her she doesn’t even have to think about Jared on top of her earlier. 

They have a routine down. She says stop, he tells her to quit being a baby, and threatens to show people the pictures of her. 

She’s lost track of exactly who is blackmailing whom anymore. She thinks Jared’s got the upper hand but who even knows anymore?

Certainly not Zoe. 

“Saw you go off with Jared earlier,” Madison tells her. She seems pissed. She’s off her face. Tommy’s been hovering. “Are you two a thing now?”

“Fuck no,” Zoe says. “He’s just my fucking dealer.”

“Never takes me forty-five minutes to haggle him down,” Madison says. 

Zoe sighs. “Well, he’s kind of pissed off at me because my mom made that scene at the school board meeting.”

Madison sighs. “I know what you mean. I had to blow him a couple of times after you ripped him off at your birthday party.”

Zoe stares. “What?”

“Yeah, he was being such a skeeze. Wouldn’t sell to me unless I blew him a couple of times.”

“He let you  _ blow  _ him?” Zoe repeats, kind of pissed. She’s offered. She’s fucking  _ begged.  _

“Oh don’t be such a priss,” Madison says. “What? Does he make you fuck him?”

Zoe opens her mouth to say yes, actually. 

“Nobody can  _ make  _ you fuck them, Murph, stop being so damn dramatic.”

Zoe hates her. She hates her. 

She really wants to punch her. 

But then Chad is throwing an arm around Zoe and dragging her to dance. She dances with him. She’s having fun. 

They make out a little and Zoe can feel that Chad’s into this from the way their hips grind. “Let’s go get a room,” he says to her. 

No. No way. She’s still sore from earlier. Zoe shakes her head. “No thanks, I’d rather just dance.”

“Murph come on, you look  _ really  _ hot tonight,” Chad wheedles. 

“Dude no.”

“Murph come on,” Chad whines. It makes her so annoyed. “You’ll give it up to that little punk from Chino but not me?”

Zoe shoves him away. “I never slept with Evan,” she says. 

“Oh yeah? That’s not what I heard. I heard you totally let him nail you and then he dumped you for Quitter.”

“Fuck you,” Zoe says quietly. 

“We gotta do something about Chino,” Brian says. He’s just kinda next to them now. “He’s coming in here and like. Fucking our girls. Wiping his trailer trash little paws all over our shit. He’s friends with Quitter which is just… not cool. Plus he took my spot at the top of our AP history class.”

Zoe  _ knows _ that’s not true. Brian’s an idiot. Not as dumb as Tommy but definitely nowhere near the top of the history class. 

“Heard he’s still on probation from stealing a car,” Chad says, frowning. 

“Heard he’s still on probation at school from clocking Jared on the first day,” Brian says. “And he’s why Murph’s mom went batshit in front of the school board. Jared’s charging twice as much for Adderall these days.”

“Bet if we messed with him he’d shut the fuck up,” Chad replies. 

“Fuck yeah,” Brian says giving him a high five. 

“You two are so stupid,” Zoe says, extracting herself from them. 

“Hey, I thought we were gonna fuck?” Chad calls after her. 

“Eat shit,” she tells him. 

“Saving it for that dyke Patel, nice!” Brian shouts. “Can we watch?”

Zoe leaves them to be idiots together. 

Morons. 

Tommy’s outside sitting on the hood of her car. He looks… tired. He’s smoking a cigarette. 

“Hey Murph,” he says softly. “You out of here?”

Zoe nods. “Brian and Chad are being… themselves.”

Tommy nods knowingly. “You mind giving me a ride? Maddie has my keys and she’s sucking face with Kleinman.”

“Sure,” Zoe says. She’s pretty sure she’s okay to drive. Tommy circles the car and climbs into the passenger seat when Zoe unlocks the door. 

“I’m getting too old for these parties dude,” Tommy says wearily. 

Zoe glances at him. “You’re  _ seventeen. _ ”

Tommy shrugs. “They’re all the same shit you know? People all like. Fucking in corners and talking shit about each other. It gets old.”

Zoe doesn’t really get what he means but she nods. Sure. Whatever. 

Why would anyone give this up? It’s the only fun you can have around here. 

Zoe drops Tommy off at his house. It’s just one gated community over from hers. 

* * *

Evan’s sad to leave the beach house. It’s felt like a break from the rest of the world, like a reprieve, and he’s kind of dreading going back to everyday life. 

They get back to the main house and Evan notices there are bags of what looks like groceries on the kitchen counter. Rosa must have done some shopping for them. Heidi’s eyes light up and she opens up the bag, going through things carefully, pulling out things that Evan only vaguely recognizes. 

“This is perfect,” Heidi says with a huge smile. “Exactly what we need. This is going to be great.”

“What’s going to be great?” Evan asks. 

Heidi puts the bag down. Grins at Evan broadly. “It’s the first day of Passover tomorrow. We’re having a seder.”

Evan just stares at her for a moment. 

“Seriously?”

“Yeah!” Heidi says happily. “I haven’t been to one in years, but I looked everything up and talked to the rabbi and Rosa got everything we needed while we were at the beach house.” She looks at him fondly. “We can use your mom’s matzah cloth.”

Evan blinks a few times. 

Sits down at the kitchen island. 

“I’ve n-never done this before,” he says, a little hesitantly. “W-what if I fuck it all up?”

Heidi laughs. “Oh, I am definitely going to fuck it up,” she says sympathetically. “I spent fifteen years married to a lapsed Catholic, I haven’t exactly been hosting seders. Or doing anything Jewish except refusing to eat bacon.” Her smile fades a little and she looks almost wistful. “Honestly, Evan, we’re kind of in the same boat, you and I. Our faith is a part of us, but we’re kind of rusty.” She shrugs. “I talked to the rabbi, asked if it was okay that we even have a seder, seeing as I don’t really know what I’m talking about. But he talked me through it and told me that God will appreciate the effort. Which, you know, he better, because it took Rosa a really long time to find all the stuff to put on the seder plate.”

Evan and Heidi spend the rest of the evening going through everything they’ll need for the seder tomorrow night. They take some time to get the table set, to put out plates and cups and cutlery. 

They set four places. 

“I invited the Murphys,” Heidi tells Evan. “Larry and Connor are coming. Cynthia and Zoe aren’t.”

“That makes sense,” Evan says. 

Heidi sighs. “I thought it would be polite to extend an invitation to all four of them,” she says, “but I knew Cynthia would turn it down. I didn’t think Zoe would be super keen, either. You guys still on the outs?”

It’s Evan’s turn to sigh. “Yeah.” 

Honestly, he doesn’t know what to do about Zoe. She was almost nice to him around the time the school newsletter came out, but it was short lived because she just wanted information. She’s getting a little better about being so obviously high at school, but she’s definitely still using, and it freaks Evan out more than a little. 

He’s not going to lie. He’s worried. 

About Zoe and about Connor. 

It’s not fair that Connor’s in a house where there are drugs right there when he’s trying to stay clean. It seems cruel. 

He hates it a lot. 

He hates it even more that Connor just won’t tell his dad about it. That every time Evan suggests it, Connor refuses. Says he can’t. Seems so incredibly freaked out at the idea that it makes Evan’s skin crawl. 

He doesn’t know why it scares Connor so much. 

Connor won’t tell him. 

Part of him thinks he should just tell Connor’s dad himself. Say that he’s noticed Zoe’s been acting weird at school and thinks it’s drugs. 

But that would be betraying Connor. 

Connor would hate him for that. 

So Evan won’t. 

He can’t. 

He can’t risk Connor hating him, he can’t risk losing Connor. Connor is the most important person to him, the most important person in his life, the one thing he won’t risk. 

Not ever. 

“I’ll do a half-day tomorrow,” Heidi tells Evan before bed. “I’ll start getting things sorted for the seder, and I’ll pick you up from school so we can finish getting ready for it together, okay?”

“Awesome,” Evan replies immediately. He’s genuinely pumped about this. 

Heidi slings an arm around his shoulder and kisses the side of his head. “I can’t promise it’ll be perfect,” she says apologetically, “but it’ll be our first one as a family, so no matter what, it’ll be special.” She grins at him. “Years from now, we’ll look back on it and be like ‘oh wow, we had no idea what we were doing, didn’t we?’”

Evan lets Heidi’s words land. 

Family. 

He and Heidi as a family. 

That’s…

It feels right, somehow. Like it fits. 

It takes him a long time to get to sleep because he keeps thinking about the idea of him and Heidi being family. About looking back on tomorrow’s seder years from now, because years from now they’ll still be together. 

He doesn’t know if that’s something he can trust. 

Not yet. 

But maybe one day. Maybe with time. 

All he knows is that it’s something that he really, really wants. 

* * *

Connor’s never been to a Passover Seder before, but when Heidi invites him and his dad, Connor obviously says yes. It’s important to Evan, so he’s there. Done deal, no questions asked. 

He isn’t expecting there to be so much wine. 

He also isn’t expecting his dad and Heidi to say it’s cool if he and Evan have some. “It’s a holiday,” His dad says. “Plus, it’s not like we have to drive home.” 

Good point. 

Anyway, now Connor’s trying to hide the fact that he’s kind of drunk. 

There’s a lot of wine. 

And also a lot of food, which Connor struggles with eating, but he manages. Drinks a lot of wine to help him to get himself to swallow. 

A lot of wine. 

Okay so he’s kind of drunk but it’s okay because Evan’s here. Evan’s here and he’s had wine too and his cheeks are a little flushed and he’s smiling a lot. He’s really smiling. 

Fuck he’s so fucking beautiful. 

Connor and Evan offer to help clear the table after dinner. 

“Hey, what’s this?” Connor asks, picking up a round piece of cloth that had been covering the matzah. 

Evan smiles this soft and almost sad smile. “It’s a matzah cover,” he says. “It was my mom’s?”

Connor feels his stomach flip. “It was?”

Evan nods. “Yeah. Uh.” He smiles a little more broadly. “I have like. Some stuff of hers?” He smiles at Connor. 

“Like what?” Connor asks. 

Evan smiles. “I have, like, a whole bag.” He shows Connor the matzah cover up close. “Come on I’ll show you.” Then he leads Connor up to his room. He goes into his closet and pulls out his backpack. Connor feels his heart squeeze painfully. 

Evan pulls a small bag out of the backpack and lays it on his bed. Connor goes to sit on the bed while Evan pulls some things out of the bag. 

A faded index card in a clear plastic sleeve. “This is… my mom’s latke recipe,” Evan says. 

“You made those. At Christmas.” Connor gives him a smile. “I even ate a couple.”

“You did.” 

“They were good,” Connor says softly. Evan’s cheeks go a little bit pinker. He’s all flushed and he looks… happy. Content. It makes Connor feel like his heart is a balloon being pumped full of more and more helium. He’s so happy he could, like, float away. 

Evan nods. “Yeah. Heidi and I made a copy so I could make sure this one… stayed safe?” 

Connor grins stupidly. “That’s… That’s so cool.” He gently touches the edge of the notecard. “Is this her handwriting?” He takes in the narrow script. The d’s and g’s look a lot like how Evan writes his. 

Evan nods. “Yeah.” His smile fades a little. “At least I think. I’m pretty sure she got this recipe from her mom.” He bites his lip. “I never really met her.”

“Your grandma?”

Evan nods. “Yeah, I.. I think she died when I was super little. Mom didn’t talk about her a lot.” His fingers graze the edge of the plastic that the recipe is stored in. “I don’t… I don’t even have a picture of her. My m-mom? So I want to… make sure I don’t, like, ruin this.” 

Connor hates that. “I’m so sorry.” 

Evan shrugs. “It’s… I should have, like. Taken some. From the house, before I left… I didn’t think.”

“You were only a kid,” Connor says gently. 

“I could have grabbed something,” He says, frowning. 

“You grabbed all of this didn’t you?”

Evan shrugs. He looks embarrassed. “I… She always kept this stuff safe. I wanted to make sure…”

“She’d probably be really happy you kept all of it for so long,” Connor says quietly. He doesn’t know that for sure. He might just be talking out of his ass. But it feels like the right thing to be saying right now. 

Fuck he can’t imagine not even having a picture of his mom. 

Connor’s mom is being a giant bitch these days, but… if she died tomorrow he would have ways to remember her. Pictures and home movies and old stupid voicemails from when he was at Hanover reminding him to wash his socks and whatever. 

He can’t imagine just not having any of that and it makes Connor’s heart so sad for Evan. So damn sad. It’s not fair that he lost his mom so young. Or at all. And it’s especially not fair how he lost her. 

Evan’s fingers brush against Connor’s for a brief second. 

“What’s this?” Connor asks, pointing to a book. 

Evan blinks a few times, like he was spacing out and just now returning to reality. He looks down at the little book. “Oh. You know, I didn’t know wh-what it was for a long time. I asked Heidi… she says it’s a. A siddur? it’s a book of prayers.”

Connor smiles a little. He looks at it critically. It’s in Hebrew. “Do you know any of them?”

Evan shakes his head. “I don’t speak any Hebrew.” 

Connor nods. “I know it’s like… Not the same? But like. My dad and Zo and I all went to mass on Christmas. And we used to go a ton when I was little, but we stopped when mom got bored with being Catholic. But I still, like. Remember all the prayers and whatever. When we got there, it all sort of came back.” Connor shrugs. “I know it’s not the same. Like the ones I’m talking about are all in English and whatever. But you… you might still remember some of them? You just need to go somewhere that jogs your memory.”

Evan smiles at Connor, something sort of unreadable in his eyes. “Yeah. You’re probably right.” 

Connor feels his face getting a little hot. 

Evan shows off the kippah he’s kept that his mom kept painstakingly wrapped up with silica gel packets. Connor thinks it sort of suits Evan, in a weird way. Like. Evan just looks very himself with it. 

“There’s one more thing,” Evan says suddenly. “But we gotta go outside.” 

Connor’s not sure what that means, but he dutifully follows Evan down the stairs and out through the front door. They step outside, and Evan points to this small little cylinder attached to the doorframe. It has some Hebrew on it. Connor’s never noticed it before. 

“What’s this?”

“A mezuzah,” Evan answers. “It used to be by the front door. When I was little. My neighbor helped me take it down before I was… put into my first foster home. I wasn’t tall enough to reach it.”

Evan’s plenty tall now, Connor thinks. He takes in this small decoration, curious about it. “What does it mean?”

Evan nods. “So it’s like. Technically there’s, like, a bit of the Torah in there. And there’s this bit in the Bible that it, like, refers to or whatever.” He looks at it, his smile sort of sad and happy all at once. “It’s supposed to, like, remind you that as a Jewish person you like… you and God have made promises to each other. Or whatever. A lot of people, like, touch it when they’re walking in or out? And like it also… it t-tells people outside that… that Jewish people live in the house.”

“That’s really cool,” Connor says softly. He’s looking at it intently. 

“Yeah, I think so,” Evan says. “I looked them up and, like, technically you’re supposed to hang them up within a month of moving somewhere permanent. B-but. Heidi didn’t have one and I… I guess I never thought anywhere else I lived would be permanent.” 

Connor looks at Evan intensely. He could genuinely kiss him right now he’s so elated to hear this. “You think being here is… is permanent?”

Evan shrugs. 

“What about D.C.?”

Evan gives him a sort of awkward smile. “I m-mean. I haven’t r-really talked to Heidi about it. Things have been… kinda crazy.” 

“Yeah.” 

“But I… I dunno if I want to move.” He looks nervously at Connor. “It would be a lot to give up.”

Connor swallows hard. He… he can’t tear his eyes away from Evan. Evan’s gorgeous face with his slightly flushed cheeks. Connor just… fucking loves him. He really fucking loves him. And he’s drunk too much wine and Connor finds himself almost inadvertently taking a step into Evan’s space. Getting too close to him. 

Evan looks up at Connor slightly. His eyes are wide and questioning. 

Connor’s wine soaked brain wants him to say something. Tell Evan he’s totally into him. Tell Evan he’s never been this into someone. 

Tell Evan that sometimes it seems like Evan might like him too. And that he doesn’t know what to do about the fact that he sort of always wants to be kissing Evan. That he can’t stop thinking about kissing him. About telling him that he loves him. About holding onto him and never ever letting go. 

But Connor chickens out. Instead he looks back at the mezuzah. “Am I allowed to touch it?”

Evan looks confused. 

“You said a lot of people touch it when they walk by it,” Connor says. “But I’m not Jewish, so I don’t want to like… fuck it up. So. Am I allowed to touch it?”

Evan thinks about this. “I think you can. I think you can touch it or not touch it. Whatever you wanna do.”

Connor nods. Leans in and gently presses the tips of his fingers against it. 

Evan grins at him sort of bashfully. 

“We should get back inside,” He says. “It’s late.”

“Yeah. Should grab my dad before he gets too looped on the Manischewitz to walk home.” 

“Yeah.”

They both hesitate on the threshold of Heidi’s house. Evan’s looking at Connor very strangely. Like he’s a puzzle that Evan’s trying to work out or something. Connor laughs, a little uncomfortable, and tears his eyes away. Heads inside. 

Now’s not the time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! at the Disco  
> Chapter title from "Lightness" by Death Cab For Cutie


	47. Stay With Me, This Is What I Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of collisions throw the future into question.

Zoe seeks out Jared most of the time when she needs to pick up, so she’s kind of shocked when he grabs a seat at her lunch table on Tuesday. Madison immediately perks up. Apparently, she still has a thing for Jared, but she’s too embarrassed to act on it. 

Zoe will admit she did tell Madison not to bother. That Jared’s got a pencil dick and doesn’t have a fucking clue what he’s doing. It seems to have influenced Madison a little, but it doesn’t stop her from sitting up taller when Jared sits beside Zoe and throws his arm over her shoulder.

She can smell him. 

It kind of freaks her out. 

Makes her flinch and think about how it felt when they slept together. How it… hurt. How he didn’t listen. 

She shoves his arm off of her. “What do you want Jared?”

“Well, you’re a real ray of sunshine today Murph,” Jared says, obviously undeterred. He starts talking to Madison about some party he’s been invited to go this weekend. It’s out in Palm Springs. 

Madison grins brightly and starts very obviously angling for an invite. Zoe sort of tunes her out. Tunes Jared out. Pretends she’s not there. 

Jared puts his arm around Zoe again. Starts playing with her hair. Zoe feels a shiver run through her. She feels sick. Shoves her food away from her. 

“So Murph,” Jared says, smiling at her. “Whatever happened with the budding romance between you and Newport’s favorite juvenile delinquent?” 

Zoe glares. “We went on one date. That’s hardly a romance.”

Madison bats her eyes at Jared. Zoe thinks about strangling her. “You know Murph, considering you’ve known Heidi since you were, like, born, it’s pretty embarrassing that you bought him as her nephew.” 

Zoe thinks about slapping her. 

She wants to fucking slap her right in her fucking face. 

“You two have study hall together, right?” Jared says, still smiling, still playing with Zoe’s hair, still making her skin fucking crawl. 

“Yeah,” Zoe says, rolling her eyes. “Not that he’s ever there anymore. He usually ends up going to the library.” She shrugs. Jared smiles brightly. “I think he’s scared of me.” 

“Yeah, because you’re scarier than the guys in _prison,_ ” Madison says dismissively. 

Zoe starts to open her mouth to say that Evan wasn’t in prison, just juvie for like… one night. She overheard her dad yelling it at her mom when she went psycho and like stormed the school board meeting. But she thinks better of it. Best not to risk it. 

Zoe gets a little stoned before study hall. As usual, Evan walks in, gets a pass, and then leaves immediately. They lock eyes for the briefest of moments. 

Then he’s gone. 

She laughs to herself a little, thinking that it’s even more hilarious that he wouldn’t fuck her when he’s literally, like, a criminal. He’s not some innocent, inexperienced virgin. He’s a fucking felon. He’s been to jail. He stole a car. 

And yet he still wouldn’t sleep with her. 

Maybe jail turned him gay. 

Ooh. That’s funny. Zoe should remember to repeat that when someone else is around. 

He probably dropped the soap and that’s why he’s gay now. 

Hilarious. 

Almost as funny as Zoe sleeping with Jared. 

Hysterical, really.

* * *

“Okay, so don’t be mad,” says Connor as he sits down at their regular lunch table. Sabrina’s next to him, rolling her eyes and Evan sighs. 

“You have detention. For mouthing off in trig.”

Connor grins sheepishly. “Sorry, man.”

Evan looks at Sabrina. “Okay, what did he do this time?”

Sabrina raises her eyebrows. “Honestly, I didn’t really follow. Something about pentagrams and how Mrs. Carlson teaches trig solely to open a portal into hell.”

“We’re all her unwilling minions,” Connor says immediately. “And I don’t know about you, but if I’m going to open a portal to hell, I’m doing it for me, not for someone else.”

Evan sighs. “Connor.”

Sabrina looks right at Connor. “You do realize that she probably goes home and tells her cat all about you, right?” 

Connor stares right back. “Her cat?”

“Her husband ran off with his secretary just before winter break,” Alana chimes in. 

Sabrina nods. “Her cat is all she has left.”

Connor’s eyes widen. “Oh shit, really?”

Evan turns to Connor. “Dude, even _I_ knew that.”

Connor takes a handful of blueberries from the punnet in front of Evan without Evan having to even tell him to do it, which makes Evan smile. “Do we have any more intel about this cat? How fluffy are we talking? What color? I’m picturing, like, something fluffy and gray and a little bit feral.”

“He’s a ginger cat,” Alana supplies helpfully. “His name is Romaine.”

Connor blinks. “Like the lettuce?”

Sabrina looks at Alana. “How do you know this?”

Alana shrugs. “I like to be prepared.”

“Who cares about the cat?” Evan says, exasperated. “Connor. You have got to stop mouthing off in trig. Hasn’t Mrs. Carlson suffered enough?”

“ _She’s_ suffered enough? What about me?”

Connor launches into yet another tirade about how much he hates trig. He’s definitely exaggerating for dramatic effect, and it’s so fucking ridiculous that all four of them are in hysterics by the end of it. Even Alana, who has consistently told them that trigonometry is no laughing matter. 

They’re probably loud, Evan realizes, because he can feel people looking at them. 

He doesn’t think he cares. Fuck them. 

Fuck everyone. 

After the whole thing with the school board meeting, people have calmed down a little. Or at least, they’ve gotten sneakier. Rather than confronting Evan and giving him shit to his face, they’ve just been graffiting his locker. Leaving him notes calling him trailer trash. 

He’s lived in some garbage places, sure, but he’s never actually lived in a trailer. 

The rest of the day passes without too much incident. In study hall, Zoe’s seriously flirting with some guy whose name Evan doesn’t remember, very pointedly not looking at him. Her laughter is just a little too loud. 

She’s gotten better at being less obvious about getting high at school, but he’s not stupid. She’s definitely on something. 

He gets a pass to go to the library. He’s been doing this basically every day since Connor’s note got posted on the school website. It’s partially because he wants to check the school website to make sure he’s got a heads up for any more fuckery but honestly, being in the same room as Zoe makes him feel kind of sick. 

The way Zoe treats Connor and Sabrina just makes it hard to be around her. 

The way she’s so obviously self-destructing makes it hard to be around her. 

He’s got an email from Ms. Parker, his bio teacher. Apparently he left his notes for the AP test behind and she thinks he might want them for the weekend. 

That’s weird. He was sure he saw them in his locker. 

She’s right, though, he absolutely will want them for the weekend. She says she’ll be in her classroom right after school in the science building for a while if he wants to grab them. 

He’ll go straight there after English, he decides. He’s going to have to wait around for Connor to get out of detention, anyway. 

Connor’s a little apologetic in English class about having detention on a Friday afternoon, but not much. Evan rolls his eyes at him. 

“Admit it,” he teases him. “This whole gay thing is just an elaborate ruse. I see the truth. You’re in love with Mrs. Carlson.”

Connor grins. “You got me,” he says sarcastically. “I’m having an affair with my fifty-year-old female teacher. Totally straight, right here.” He looks at Evan, a little more apologetic. “You okay to wait for me?”

“I’ll get a head start on my weekend homework,” Evan tells him with a dramatic sigh. “The way I always do when you get detention. Meet me at the library when you’re finished making sweet love to Mrs. Carlson?”

Connor makes a face. “You’ve ruined the whole weekend for me.” 

Evan grins. “The whole weekend?” 

Connor nods. Grins. “Whole weekend ruined thanks to the heteros.”

When class is over, Connor sighs dramatically and flips Evan off when he starts laughing at him. They go their separate ways. 

Evan has to cross the courtyard to get to the science building from the English department. It’s a little ways away. Ms. Parker’s classroom is around the back. 

He turns a corner and heads around to the back of the building. 

And gets slammed against a wall. 

It takes him a moment to figure out what the hell is going on. 

Someone’s got his shoulders. He’s being slammed against the wall a second time. And Brian Harris is punching him in the ribs. 

“What the fuck?” he manages to wheeze out. 

“You don’t fucking belong here,” says Chad Miller from beside him, before slamming him against the wall again, pinning him down and holding him there so Brian can keep punching him in the ribs. 

Fuck. 

Fucking hell, he was not expecting this at all. He’s totally blindsided. 

He reaches out to push them away. Chad slams him back against the wall.

Evan reacts on pure instinct. 

He knees Chad in the groin. Chad lets out a groan and pulls away. 

And then no one’s holding Evan back. He takes a swing. Hits Brian right in the jaw. 

“Fucking fag,” Brian spits out, and punches him right back. 

Evan punches him in the nose, reveling in the sound of cartilage shifting, the sight of blood. His hand hurts but he doesn’t fucking care. 

Fuck. Fuck, he’s almost missed this. 

He’s wanted to kick someone’s ass for _weeks_. 

Brian lunges at him, but he manages to dodge. Get out of the way. He’s quick. 

Evan’s bigger now, too. Brian doesn’t seem nearly as intimidating as he did the first time they threw down back in September. 

Chad’s back in the fray, punching Evan in the head, but Evan’s not letting up here. He’s been itching for a fight for longer than he’d even realized and these assholes came at him completely unprovoked. 

He punches Chad in the stomach, then kicks him. 

Brian slams him against the wall, punching him even harder, pinning him down. 

Evan wrestles his way out of his grip and punches Brian in the head like he means it. 

He fucking means it. 

Brian goes down hard. 

Chad’s got Evan pinned to the ground in second and is kicking him hard in the ribs, hard and violent. Evan grabs Chad’s arm and pulls him down to the ground with a hard yank. 

Gets back up.

Chad’s winded, but he staggers to his feet. Moves toward Evan and trips over Brian. Chad goes pale but Evan doesn’t fucking care, he’s so fucking pissed off, all he can see is red. He punches Chad in the gut, over and over again until someone’s dragging him away. 

It’s a teacher he doesn’t recognize.

People are talking and yelling but all he can hear is a high pitched whine as he sees Ms. Parker kneeling down next to Brian. 

Sees that Brian isn’t moving. 

He’s out cold. 

Oh god. 

Oh god, he…

Brian’s not moving and there’s conversation all around him, conversation he can’t fucking focus on, and someone’s calling an ambulance and there are people, people everywhere, he can see Jared Kleinman smirking triumphantly at him and he’s being held back, held by his wrists, an almost bruising grip to keep him from fighting, to keep him held down, to trap him because he’s dangerous he could hurt someone he hurt someone and Brian’s not moving. 

Brian’s not fucking moving. 

He’s being pulled away, and in the distance, he hears a siren. 

His blood is rushing too fast in his head, his pulse going too quickly, his heart won’t stop pounding and he’s cold and hot all at once and there’s a ringing in his ears and this is all too familiar what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck…

Evan’s hands shake. All of him shakes. 

Something inside of him is screaming and his heart sinks, because he knows that he’s just destroyed everything. 

* * *

Detention with Mrs. Carlson is always the same thing. Boring as hell. 

It’s also usually just Connor and a few freshmen who didn’t turn in their assignments or something. Connor’s actually got a theory that Mrs. Carlson secretly doesn’t hate Connor for all of the trouble he causes. Most of the time she just tasks him with doing boring shit like sharpening all of the pencils she hands out for tests because she won’t accept them in pen or make him clean off the whiteboard with that special whiteboard cleaner that smells like cheap vodka. 

Connor’s the only one in detention today. Mrs. Carlson actually seems to be in a good mood, all things considered. She just goes over the trig homework she assigned over the weekend with him and then lets him go ten minutes early. 

He really does think she likes him. 

Which is so funny to him. 

He starts heading toward the library. Wonders if maybe Evan wants to do something when they get out of here. There’s that movie about the Zodiac killer that just came out. He wonders if maybe they should go see it. Get away from their houses for a few hours. 

He gets to the library and doesn’t find Evan in any of his usual spots. 

That’s weird. 

Connor decides to go to his car. The library does shut down at four o’clock on Fridays. Maybe he didn’t want to stick around until the librarian shooed him out?

As Connor is crossing the quad to get to the parking lot he sees an ambulance pulling out from behind the science building. That’s fucking weird. 

...Evan’s not at Connor’s car. 

That’s weird. 

Connor texts Evan.

Waits. 

Waits for a little while. 

Maybe he’s still in the school or something? 

The ambulance pulls out. 

Connor feels a sudden prickle of fear inside of him. Evan’s not where he’s supposed to be and there’s an ambulance… 

He tells himself not to be stupid. It’s probably just some dumb jock who pulled a hamstring or something on the soccer field. 

But he’s still got this creeping sense of fear. He can’t shake it. So Connor rushes back toward the science building, trying to figure out what the actual fuck is going on. 

“I’m telling you,” Connor hears Tommy Whittington say to some people standing around, “Evan Hansen’s nuts, man. He said at lunch that he was going to _kill_ Brian. He and Quitter and all them were laughing about it!” 

Connor loses it. He turns on his heel and grabs Tommy by the collar, yanking him up to Connor’s height. “What did you just say?”

Tommy’s eyes flash with fear. 

Connor realizes he’s lifted Tommy off his feet. 

He puts him down. “What did you say about Evan?” he demands. 

Tommy’s clearly stoned. His reaction is too delayed. This honey slow smile spreads over his face. “He said he was gonna kill Brian at lunch. And then he went after him.”

What. 

What the fuck. 

“Who was in the ambulance?” Connor demands, terrified, fear coursing through him. 

Tommy shrugs. “Not sure man I missed it. There was a fight. Though. I heard your friend went after Brian.”

Connor shoves him. 

“Who was in the fucking ambulance?” 

But Tommy just keeps laughing. 

Connor’s panicking. He’s freaking the fuck out. Was it Evan? Did they kill him? Is he hurt? Did he hurt someone? What is going on, what the fuck is going on?

Connor hurries away, back to his car. He calls Evan’s phone. 

Voicemail. 

Calls again. 

Voicemail. 

What is going on, what the actual fuck is going on?

Connor dials Heidi’s number, his hands shaking, and gets voicemail there too. When he calls her office, Karen the secretary just tells him that Ms. Herzberg is out for the remainder of the day. 

Connor is panicked. He’s panicking. 

He calls Evan again. Texts him again. 

He has no idea what to do. What should he do what the fuck should he do?

He gets in his car. 

Waits for an entire hour. Until it is abundantly clear that Evan is not coming to meet him. Even though it already was. Even though he already knew. 

Connor calls his dad. His dad doesn’t know what’s happening, but he says he’ll call Heidi and that Connor should come home and wait to hear something. His dad tells him to come straight home. Not to do anything stupid. 

Connor is so freaked out he doesn’t know that he even could if he tried. 

He smokes three cigarettes on his way home. His hands are shaking. 

Connor walks inside and finds Zoe in the kitchen on the phone with someone. She’s saying something, he doesn’t know what, something like, “Serves him right.” 

“Zo.”

She ignores him. “I know, that’s insane.” 

“Zoe,” Connor demands. 

Zoe’s eyes flash. “What?”

“Do you know what happened with Evan at school?” He asks her. 

Zoe almost looks sorry for him. “He tried to fucking kill Brian.”

That doesn’t make sense. Connor knows that doesn’t make sense. Evan swore he wouldn’t get into any fights, he promised he wouldn’t because it could put everything at risk, he promised and Connor trusts him he trusts him more than anything he wouldn’t just do this. 

Would he?

He wouldn’t. Connor is sure. Evan wouldn’t just do this. 

* * *

“I’m sure you can understand just how serious this is,” says Greg Sanson, and Heidi wants to punch him in his stupid face, because this is all his fault. 

It’s all his damn fault. 

He’s the one who told _the whole fucking community_ who Evan really was in some fucked up attempt at damage control after someone put Connor’s suicide note on the school website. Greg fucking Sanson wanted to make his school look good and now she’s going to lose Evan. 

She’s going to lose him. 

Evan’s got a bruise on his cheek, and it’s so much like the bruise he had when she first met him that it breaks something inside her, leaving her a total wreck. 

He’s come so far. Worked so hard. And now it’s all over. 

“What I understand,” Heidi says, barely containing her anger, “is that you run a school full of elitist shitheads. That you decided, without asking me, to tell everyone about Evan’s past.”

Greg looks at her, his expression calm. “When you enrolled him at Harbor, you knew he’d get opportunities to succeed, and that the school would report on his successes. I couldn’t just lie-”

“He won an essay competition,” Heidi says angrily. “All you needed to say was that he won, you didn’t need to put in the fucking school newsletter where he transferred from.”

Greg raises his eyebrows. “That’s beside the point right now. The point is that Evan assaulted a student.”

“Th-they attacked me,” Evan mumbles, his voice shaking. “I d-d-didn’t do anything they j-just attacked me out of n-nowhere-”

“That’s not what Chad and Jared are saying,” says Greg, still in that maddeningly even voice, that makes Heidi want to punch him even more. “And I had two students come forward and tell me they overheard Evan saying earlier today that he was going to kill Brian.”

Evan’s head snaps up. “I n-never said that!” 

“Madison and Tommy Whittington both said they heard you,” says Greg, and the even voice is cracking a little. Now he just looks tired. A little overwhelmed. 

“I didn’t say that,” Evan says, and he’s got his arms wrapped around himself, a little hunched over like he’s still in pain, and Heidi is so fucking terrified she could scream. 

“Brian’s in the hospital,” Greg continues. “You knocked him unconscious. Even if you didn’t start the fight-”

“I _didn’t_!”

“You finished it in a completely unacceptable way,” Greg finishes. 

“It w-was two against one,” Evan says, something desperate in his voice. “I-I-I was trying to d-defend myself-”

“We have multiple accounts,” Greg interrupts. “Saying that you attacked. That this was premeditated. While we’ll be investigating, you’re suspended until further notice.” He pauses for a moment. “We’ve already notified Child Services of our decision. Legally, we had no option.”

Heidi’s heart stops. 

She knows this, of course, but hearing it said…

“Mr. Harris has indicated he intends to press charges,” Greg continues. He looks almost apologetic. Almost sorry. “He wants Evan expelled. We won’t confirm this until we’ve finished our investigation.” He stands up. “I need to ask you to remove Evan from the school grounds, Heidi.”

“Greg, this is bullshit-”

“Don’t make this any more difficult than it already is.”

With that, Greg’s escorting both Heidi and Evan out of his office. Heidi feels a little bit like everything’s happening underwater, she…

What the hell. What the hell is happening. 

Evan worked so hard. He worked so hard for all of this and he’s just thrown it all away because he can’t control his temper? 

She should have pushed harder for therapy. Should have told him he had to, made it a requirement of staying with her, but she was so afraid she’d scare him away, so afraid she’d lose him…

And now she’s going to lose him anyway. 

This isn’t real. It doesn’t feel real. 

They walk to the car in silence. Evan looks at her, his eyes wide and scared. 

“I’m so sorry-”

“We’ll talk when we get home,” she interrupts. 

The drive home is too short and too long all at once. 

Child Services will take him away from her. Deem her unfit to care for him, because she let this happen. He’ll be put back in foster care and she’ll never see him again. 

He’s on probation. He’s on fucking probation, if Brian’s father presses charges then he could end up in juvie. Locked up. 

And she’ll never see him again. 

When they get home, they go inside. Evan’s trembling and Heidi can’t tell if it’s from rage or fear. 

Either way, she hates it. 

They sit at the kitchen table. Heidi takes a deep breath. 

“You need to be smarter than this,” she says after a moment. “You’re smarter than this, Evan, what were you thinking?”

Evan’s eyes go wide. His nose goes red. “I d-didn’t start this, you h-have to believe me.”

“It doesn’t matter if I believe you!” Heidi finds herself yelling. She’s terrified, she’s never been so angry in her life. Evan flinches, goes small but she can’t help herself, she has to keep going. “It makes no difference if I believe you, there are four people who’ve come forward and said you planned this, you wanted to hurt him, it’s their word against yours-”

“They h-hate me!” Evan yells back. “They’ve h-hated me every s-since I got here, they just w-want a reason to get rid of me!”

“So don’t give them one!” Heidi spits back. “Don’t do it, don’t give them the satisfaction, you can’t afford to be stupid like this!”

“I t-turned a corner and two guys jumped me,” Evan says, his eyes dangerously glassy. “I d-didn’t have time to stop and calmly assess the _fucking_ situation.”

“If it was two against one and they jumped you, then how come Brian’s the one in the hospital?” Heidi asks. 

Evan goes white as a sheet. “I d-d-didn’t know I’d hurt him that badly,” he says, and he’s shaking now, his arms wrapped around his torso protectively. “I’ve n-never… every other fight I’ve ever h-had I’ve been the one with broken bones or injuries, I…”

“You could have seriously hurt him,” Heidi says, and she’s shaking too. “You still might have seriously hurt him, do you want to be someone who does that? You’ve told me about your dad, that he hurt you, you want to be someone who hurts other people?”

“No!”

“The kids around here don’t have to worry like you do!” Heidi says bitterly. “They knock someone out, Daddy makes it all go away. But you’re not like them, you could get in serious trouble for this. They could take you away from me!”

“I know!” Evan yells. “I know how b-bad this is!”

“Do you?” Heidi challenges. “If you knew how bad it was then why did you _do_ it?”

“I d-didn’t do it on purpose! I d-d-didn’t mean to hurt him, I thought he was going to k-kill me!”

Heidi wants to scream. “Not everyone wants to hurt you, Evan! Not everyone is trying to-”

“Don’t fucking bullshit me,” Evan interrupts, his face red. “You c-can’t say that n-not everyone wants to hurt me wh-when I just got attacked by two assholes who-who want to g-get me kicked out of school-”

“You can’t be stupid and reckless like this!” Heidi yells at him. “I thought we were past this, I thought you were better.”

Evan flinches. Recoils. “I w-was. I _am_.”

“I can’t keep you safe if you don’t try, Evan, if you don’t-”

“H-how can you say I d-don’t try?” Evan spits out. “All I h-have done since I got here is try to be someone else, someone who b-belongs here, someone I’m n-not, and I’ve d-done everything I c-can and nothing’s enough!”

“You’ve worked so hard,” Heidi says, and she feels like she’s going to cry. “And now this one mistake might cost you everything. What if I can’t help you? What if you go to juvie, what if they take you away from me?”

Evan looks at her. Opens his mouth. Closes it. 

“Then I’ll stop being your problem, won’t I?”

Heidi feels like he’s slapped her. “You’re not a problem, you’re my kid!”

Evan just glares at her. “Don’t fucking bullshit me, Heidi. Just don’t.”

Heidi feels like slapping _him_. 

_You stupid idiot kid, how do you not see how much I love you? How fucking scared I am for you right now? I am_ terrified _I’ll lose you._

She doesn’t say any of that out loud. 

She doesn’t trust her voice to get the words out. 

They stare at each other for a while. 

Heidi’s phone rings. Her heart plummets. 

It’s the social worker. 

“I have to take this,” she says, her voice shaky. Evan’s shoulders sag.

She answers the call but can barely concentrate on what the woman is saying. She’s watching Evan walk out to the pool house, fists clenched. 

He needs to cool off. They need some space. 

She’s got work to do.

* * *

Evan hasn’t been in the pool house in a few weeks. He and Connor hang out here sometimes, but usually, they’re at the Murphys’. Rosa must have cleaned it because it’s immaculately clean, the bed freshly made. 

He sits on the bed and just… tries to compose himself. 

Tries to stop his hands from shaking. To stop himself from completely losing it. 

Everything hurts. Brian and Chad got a few too many hits in and everything hurts, everything aches with pain. He closes his eyes and just… feels it for a while. 

Lets himself feel that he’s ruined everything. 

What the fuck is wrong with him, why did he lose control like that? Why didn’t he just walk away, why doesn’t he know when to stop?

He knocked Brian _unconscious_ , what the _fuck_.

He’s never…

He’s been in plenty of fights but he’s always been the one who got hurt the worst, he’s never… 

Never hurt someone this much. 

Fuck.

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

He’s just like his dad. He is violent and stupid and hateful, just like his dad, he…

He’s not getting away with this one. 

It’s not just going to be fucking okay, he knocked Brian unconscious, they took him away in an _ambulance_ , for fuck’s sake. 

Evan’s fucked. Completely fucked. 

He’s ruined everything. Brian and Chad and Jared and even fucking Tommy and Madison are all saying that Evan started it, and it’s their word against his, just like Heidi said. 

And she doesn’t believe him. 

She doesn’t believe that they started it, that he was just trying to defend himself, that it was Brian and Chad against Evan with Jared keeping watch, that it was two against one and he still doesn’t fucking know how he’s not the one in the hospital right now. 

He should be the one in the hospital. 

He should…

Fuck. _Fuck_.

Evan lies down on the bed and stares at the ceiling. He’s exhausted and dizzy. Everything hurts. 

Everything. 

He closes his eyes. 

Evan doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he must, because when he opens his eyes again, it’s getting dark, and he hears the door to the pool house open. He sits up gingerly to see Heidi coming in. She’s got a plate of what looks like leftover Chinese food from the night before, as well as the first aid kit. 

She turns on the light. Looks at him, her face pale and tight with worry. 

“You should eat something,” she says, putting the food on the table. 

“Not hungry,” he replies immediately. 

Her face falls. “Okay,” she says. “I’ll just… I’ll put it in the fridge until you are.”

He looks away. Just stares at the ceiling. 

After a moment, she comes to sit down on the edge of the bed, still holding the first aid kit. 

“Evan, sweetheart-”

“D-don’t call me that.”

She’s silent. 

Evan can tell that he’s hurt her. 

He’s always hurting her. 

She lets out this shaky sigh. “Can I at least have a look at you?” she says, something a little desperate in her voice. “You were in a fight, there’s blood on your-”

“It’s not mine.”

She doesn’t say anything else. 

Just leaves the first aid kit on the bed next to him and sits. 

After a while, she leaves. The door to the pool house shuts with this awful click. It sounds like her giving up on him. 

Everyone always fucking gives up on him. 

He’s never felt so fucking alone, he…

He sits up. 

Wipes his face. 

Connor. 

Connor was supposed to meet him after detention, he totally forgot to get in touch with him, he…

He pulls out his phone. 

There are over fifty missed calls from Connor. Dozens of texts, all increasingly freaked out. 

His phone rings again, right there in his hand. 

He answers it. 

“Oh thank fuck,” says Connor’s voice, relieved. “Are you okay? What the _fuck_ happened?”

“I’m at the p-pool house,” he says, his voice raw. “C-c-can you come over?”

“Mine or yours?” 

“Mine.” Evan wipes his face again, hating how small his voice sounds. “Please c-come over?”

“I’m on my way.”

* * *

When Connor rushed down the stairs, startling Larry, part of him is relieved. Connor’s been shut up in his bedroom. Something happened with Evan at school, but Larry can’t get a hold of Heidi to find out what exactly. Zoe mentioned something about a fight with Brian Harris. 

Connor’s heading toward the backdoor when Larry says, “Where are you going?”

Connor freezes. “It’s… It’s Evan,” He says breathlessly. He seems scared. Sad. “I don’t… I don’t know what happened, but it was something bad and he… I just want to go talk to him. Pl-please.” 

“Where is he?” Larry asks. 

“Just his pool house. Please I won’t go anywhere else I just…”

“Go on,” Larry says. He watches Connor cross the backyard and into Heidi’s. 

Larry sucks in a deep breath. Enough’s enough. He needs to figure out what the hell happened.

Larry goes into the safe where he’s locked all of the alcohol up in the house. Grabs a bottle of scotch and brings it with him as he heads up Heidi’s driveway. Rings her doorbell. 

Heidi looks exhausted when she opens the door. Exhausted and terrified. Larry holds up the bottle of scotch. 

Heidi gives him a pale smile and lets him inside. 

They sit in her living room, each with a generous glass of scotch, and Heidi explains what’s happened. Evan got into a fight with Brian Harris and Chad. Brian was knocked unconscious. Jared Kleinman, Chad, and Madison and Tommy Whittington are saying that Evan started it. Evan’s saying that they jumped him. That they’re lying. 

Evan’s been suspended. Child Services has been contacted. Heidi says that her social worker is coming to speak with them both on Monday. 

She takes a drink with shaky hands. “They could take him from me, Larry. They could charge him with assault. They could put him back in juvie.” 

Larry nods. Drinks. Sighs. “I’ll help you. Whatever you need… I won’t let you do this alone. We can fight this.” 

Heidi looks at him gratefully. Wipes her eyes. “It’s… he’s just come so far. And he threw all of it away….” 

Larry frowns. “Heidi. Come on. Jared Kleinman’s a shithead drug dealer. You really believe his story over Evan’s?”

Heidi shrugs. “It doesn’t matter what I believe. The second Evan threw a punch, even in self-defense, he confirmed every awful thing that the parents at Harbor think about him. About me.” 

Larry frowns. “Why wasn’t Connor with him?” He’s genuinely asking. Larry and Heidi have agreed that, for whatever reason, Connor seems to be the only person who can keep Evan from acting impulsively. If Evan got into a fight, then they must have caught him alone. 

“He had detention,” Heidi says wearily. 

Larry sighs. “Damn it, of course he did.” He probably mouthed off to his trigonometry teacher again. Larry had gotten an earful about Connor’s disruptive nature at parent-teacher conferences in the fall. 

Larry frowns at Heidi. He can’t imagine what she’s going through right now. The possibility of losing your kid because of one bad call… and possibly a bad call where there was no right call. “I am so sorry Heidi.” 

Heidi sighs. Finishes her drink. 

Larry tops her off again. 

“We should go get the boys,” She says after a while. “It’s late.” 

Larry bites his lip. “Maybe we should… just let them calm each other down,” He suggests quietly. “They both do better when they’ve had some time together. It can’t hurt.” 

Heidi looks hesitant.

“They’re both here. They’re just in the pool house. We know they’re both safe and at home.” He looks at her sadly. “And we don’t know what’s going to happen. This might… this might be their only chance to say goodbye.” 

Heidi looks devastated. 

Larry feels like an asshole for even mentioning it. 

He pulls Heidi into a hug. “I promise you, I’m with you on this. We will work together to figure things out. We’re not going down without a fight, alright? I promise. If we go down, we go down swinging.” 

“Thank you,” Heidi says softly. 

* * *

It’s barely a minute later that Connor’s knocking on the door of the pool house, his face pale and tight with worry. Evan lets him in and Connor immediately pulls him into a tight hug, not letting him go for a long time. 

“What happened?” Connor demands. “There was a fucking ambulance, Jared and Chad are going around telling people you tried to kill Brian, what the fuck happened?”

“Brian and Chad j-jumped me,” Evan explains, his face burning with shame. “Behind the science building, they… they b-b-both attacked me, it was two against one, I was trying to d-d-defend myself and I… I lost control, I knocked Brian out, I…” He takes in a deep breath. “Jared w-was there, I think h-he got a teacher and it was... it was Chad and Jared and Tommy and Madison’s word against mine and no one b-believes me. No one f-fucking _believes_ me, Heidi h-h-h-hates me, she-she yelled at me and t-t-t-told me that Child Services m-might take me away and Brian’s dad wants to-to p-press charges and I j-j-j-just tanked my entire life, Connor, this is bad, I-”

“This isn’t your fault,” Connor says fiercely. He looks so angry. “This is not your fucking fault, they…” He blinks. “Behind the science building?” 

“Y-yeah,” Evan replies miserably. 

Connor’s eyes widen. “There’s a security camera there,” he says urgently. “There’s a security camera, they’ll be able to see you didn’t start it, that they attacked you. It’s evidence, it’s not just your word against theirs, there’s _evidence_.” He grins a little ferally. “Guess Jared’s not as fucking smart as he thinks he is if he forgot about that.”

Evan feels his stomach churn, something like hope welling up inside him. “You… you b-believe I didn’t start it?”

Connor blinks. Looks hurt. “Of course I do.”

Evan’s heart won’t stop pounding, he’s aching all over and he’s freaking out, he’s been freaking out for hours, but Connor believes him. 

He _believes_ him. 

“Heidi doesn’t believe me,” Evan says quietly. “Sh-she said that without proof I c-could end up in juvie, that I was st-stupid for losing c-control-”

“She’s scared,” Connor insists, frowning. “She’s scared she’ll lose you, she’s probably freaking out.”

Evan shakes his head, his stomach sinking as he realizes all over again how much he’s fucked up. “N-no. No, I’ve r-ruined it, she d-doesn’t want me, everyone h-hates me, everyone’s g-given up on me, I j-j-j-just let people down.”

Connor grabs him by the shoulders. Looks him dead in the eye. 

“You have _never_ let me down,” he says, his words slow and deliberate. “Okay? Not ever. Since the day we met, you have _always_ had my back and I’ve got yours, okay? I’m not giving up on you.”

Evan feels his eyes fill with tears. “I keep r-ruining things,” he chokes out. “My whole life, everyone leaves, no one wants me. I th-thought… I thought Heidi wanted me b-but I ruined it, she d-doesn’t want me, no one wants me.”

Connor doesn’t stop looking at him. 

Still has his hands on his shoulders, his gaze strange. 

“I do,” he says simply. “I want you. Okay? I’m not leaving. Not now, not ever.”

A strange feeling makes its way through Evan’s entire body, and it’s familiar and terrifying, all at once. It reminds him of how he feels when he’s working on a math problem and suddenly he knows exactly what’s happening, that moment where the answer becomes clear. 

That moment of clarity, only magnified by a million, through an unfamiliar lens. 

Connor believes him. 

Connor wants him. 

Connor is the most important person in Evan’s life. The best friend he’s ever had. 

He already knew that, but he didn’t know…

He didn’t know. 

Connor’s looking at him, and his face is pale and his nose is red and Evan takes in every detail of him, his high cheekbones and slightly crooked nose and pretty eyes and…

He didn’t know. 

Evan didn’t know, but now he does, and he thinks he should have known weeks ago. _Months_ ago. 

He feels a little bit like he’s in a dream. He reaches out and puts a shaking hand on Connor’s cheek. 

Then leans in and kisses him. 

Connor’s lips are soft and warm and right, and Connor’s kissing him back immediately, like it’s an automatic reaction, and Evan didn’t know, how come he didn’t _know_?

He pulls away gently after a moment, his hand still on Connor’s face. 

Connor’s staring at him with these wide, amazed eyes. 

“Evan, you… I don’t…”

“Was that okay?” Evan asks. Connor blinks, then nods almost frantically, and moves his hand to Evan’s cheek, and pulls him in for another kiss. 

It’s even better than the first one and Evan opens his mouth, wanting more, wanting to feel this more, because it’s so damn nice, Connor is the best person he knows and he needs this right now, needs to feel close to him. 

Evan didn’t know. He’s so fucking stupid. 

Connor’s hand moves to the back of Evan’s neck, and it makes him shiver a little, and Connor pulls his lips away from Evan’s immediately. “Is this okay?” he asks, his voice careful. “Are you okay?”

“You’re wonderful,” Evan says, a little breathlessly. “You’re so wonderful, Connor.”

Connor’s face breaks into a smile. He still has his hand on the back of Evan’s neck, and Evan’s still touching Connor’s face, and they’re so close, so close Evan can see every tiny detail in his face, and he’s so beautiful. 

So damn beautiful. 

“I never thought…” Connor blinks. Looks overwhelmed, but he’s still smiling. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.”

Evan’s heart skips a beat. “Really?”

“I’ve always wanted you,” Connor says, his voice soft. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I first saw you.”

This might not be real, Evan realizes suddenly. Connor had said those exact words in his dream back in January. He’s about to ask if this is really happening when Connor’s kissing him again and all coherent thought flies out of the window. 

Connor’s really kissing him now, and Evan’s drowning it in immediately, losing himself in all of it. For once, the part of his brain that’s always fucking overthinking things is quiet. Calm. Not getting in the way, not telling him all the ways that he could fuck this up, just… quiet and still, all his worries swept away by the steady tide of Connor’s mouth, his hands, all of it. 

All of him. 

This might not be real, but Evan's not going to question it, because if he does then it might stop. And that’s the last thing he wants. 

* * *

Connor doesn’t really believe this is happening. 

Like. He’s pretty sure he’s dreaming. 

When they break apart, both out of breath, Connor blinks a few times like he’s just woken up. 

He waits for the “just kidding!” 

The “ha you fucking fag, can’t believe you fell for that.”

None of that happens. 

Evan’s just looking at him. And Connor’s looking back. 

But just to be sure, he pulls his hand away from the back of Evan’s neck and snaps the hair tie on his wrist hard. 

It stings. 

Evan looks at him, questioning, confused. 

“Just… making sure I’m not dreaming,” Connor says quietly. “You have no idea, Evan. No idea how long I’ve wanted to…”

Evan’s face softens and he kisses Connor again. More intensely. He presses himself against Connor and then he’s totally losing himself in this. He’s lost in the best sort of way, like he meant to get lost, like he and Evan are navigating their way back but they’re taking their time. 

The back of his knees hit the mattress of the pool house bed before Connor realizes they’ve been heading that way. 

“Is that…?”

Connor nods frantically and then they’re on the bed together. Closer than ever. Chest to chest, hips to hips and Connor doesn’t know how this happened but he doesn’t really _care._ Evan’s on top of him, his weight warm and solid and perfect. 

They’re still kissing. Getting a little bolder with their moves. Connor pulls away to kiss Evan where his jaw meets his neck and Evan lets out a soft sigh. 

“You good? Is it okay that I’m…?”

Evan nods. Rests his head against Connor’s chest for a bit. 

They could totally stop now and it would still be perfect. 

But then Evan’s hands are moving to the bottom of Connor’s shirt. “Can I?”

Connor nods. 

Evan sits up and so does Connor and then Connor’s shirt is coming off. And Evan’s hands settle on Connor’s chest. Touching him softly. He leans forward and presses a kiss to Connor’s shoulder and Connor shivers. 

“Are you cold?” Evan asks. He sounds concerned. “We don’t have to-”

“I’m good,” Connor says with a smile. “Just. I liked that.”

Evan’s cheeks blush and he kisses Connor again, their noses bumping gently and Connor lets his hands trace down Evan’s back. 

To the edge of his shirt. 

His fingers barely brush the skin there. 

“Is it okay if I…?”

“Yes,” Evan consents, and then Connor pulls his shirt off slowly. 

Evan’s chest is broad. He’s got bruises up and down his sides, dark and angry, marring the skin. Fuck. 

“Jesus, Evan, are you _okay_?” Connor whispers. 

“I’m fine.” 

“I should have been there,” Connor says quietly. “I shouldn’t have mouthed off in trig - I - I left you alone, this is my fault -”

Evan kisses him again. Shutting him up. “I’m fine. I’m fine.” He kisses Connor again, kisses him soft and sweet and slow. 

There’s a small scar right over Evan’s collarbone. Connor leans in and kisses it softly. Evan sighs. “That’s… okay.”

“We can stop,” Connor says. He means it. This doesn’t have to go anywhere. He just wants to… make sure Evan’s okay. He’s never really done anything before and he just wants him to be okay. 

“Don’t wanna stop,” Evan says and he kisses Connor again, pushing him back down to the bed and Connor doesn’t protest because okay. 

Okay. 

They’re actually doing this. 

They take their time. There’s a lot of kissing. A lot of touching. Evan smiles and his face is the most beautiful face in history. 

He has freckles on his shoulders. Connor kisses as many of them as he can before Evan kisses his mouth again. 

He shifts their positions so Connor’s on top of him. Connor tries to shift to the side, so he’s not pressing against Evan’s bruises, so he doesn’t hurt him. 

But Evan doesn’t let him get away. He holds him in place, holds him steady, kissing him harder.

Connor is overwhelmed. Utterly overwhelmed. He kisses Evan’s neck and he can feel his pulse against his lips. Rapid and steady and Connor asks if he’s doing okay. 

“Yes,” Evan says. His voice is lower. Darker. Like he wants something. 

Feeling bolder, Connor drags his hands down. To Evan’s legs. His hips. 

Evan sighs and his hips move and. 

Connor knows what could come next but. He’s nervous. Evan’s never done this before. He doesn’t want to push too far. Doesn’t want to mess this up. 

“Do you want me to…?” Connor asks, his hands hovering just above the buckle of Evan’s pants. Evan considers his words and Connor’s grateful because the last thing he wants, the _last thing_ he wants is to take this too far. “I’d like to touch you but if that’s not okay…”

Evan’s hands appear at his waist. 

He unbuckles his own belt. “Please,” he says quietly. 

Okay. 

Okay. 

“Yeah?” He looks up at Evan’s face. 

“Yeah.”

Connor smiles. Kisses him again and again. His fingers explore and Evan sighs and his hips shift and Connor pulls away and says, “You might be… more comfortable. Without your pants? You don’t have to just….I’m not trying to be gross, but-”

“Oh,” Evan says. “Okay.”

“Not that you have to just…” Connor fumbles. “I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable, or-”

But then Evan’s lifting his hips and pulling off his jeans. 

His boxers are blue. 

He looks really good in blue. 

“Fuck,” Connor whispers. “You’re gorgeous.” He really is. He looks so good. “You’re so beautiful. So fucking beautiful.”

“I’m not,” Evan mumbles. “I’m not.”

“You are,” Connor says softly. He kisses Evan’s cheek. His temple. His neck. His lips. “You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.”

Evan’s cheeks blush. He turns his head and kisses Connor again. 

“Are you okay?” He asks again. 

“Yes,” Evan says. He’s breathless. “Yes. I’m better than good. I’m great.”

“Can I touch you?”

“Yes. _Yes_.”

Connor smiles. Kisses him again. 

Reaches down to touch him. 

Evan sighs. His head leans against Connor. 

“That okay?” Connor says. 

Evan nods. 

He’s sighing. Whimpering a little. Biting his lip. Connor keeps kissing him. Telling him how gorgeous he is. How good he looks. He just wants him to feel good. He deserves to feel good. He’s Connor’s favorite person. The best person he knows. He’s so kind. So beautiful. So wonderful. He’s the best and he deserves to feel amazing. 

“Wait,” Evan rasps suddenly. 

Connor pulls his hand away. “You okay?” 

Evan’s cheeks are deep pink. His pupils are dilated. “I’m. If you don’t stop, I’ll…I’m going to...” he trails off. Looks embarrassed. 

“Oh,” Connor says with a slight smile. “I kind of… that’s sort of the point?” He kisses Evan’s cheek gently. “I want you to feel good, Evan. I want to make you feel good.”

Evan swallows hard. He kisses Connor’s neck. “You’re sure?”

“If you don’t want to…”

“No, no, no that’s not. I’m not. I just…” He swallows again. Connor watches the way his Adam’s Apple bobs. “I’ve never d-done this. With anyone else. What if… what if I mess it up?”

“Okay,” Connor says. “You’re okay. You’re doing totally fine? You can’t mess up, okay? I just want you to feel good and… I wanna take care of you. But if you want to stop-”

“No,” Evan says. His face settles. Connor recognizes it. Resolve. Determination. “You can. You can k-keep going. Please?” 

“Okay,” Connor says. He kisses Evan deeply. Touches him again. Likes the way Evan’s breathing hitches. How he bites his lips. First the top. Then the bottom, how he’s struggling to keep quiet. How his brows knit together. The soft “fuck, _Connor_ ,” he lets out and Connor feels warm all over seeing him so relaxed, so blissed out when it’s done. 

Damn. Evan’s beautiful. So fucking beautiful. 

Seriously so beautiful. 

Connor loves him. 

Fuck he really. Really loves Evan.

Connor cleans Evan up. They both sort of giggle helplessly as it happens. “Tickles,” Evan says, still laughing giddily. Connor pokes his side gently and Evan yelps and laughs and smiles at him so damn wide. Connor settles down beside Evan. Pulls him close. “Was that alright?

Evan nods. He cuddles in close to Connor. His hands roam Connor’s chest. He’s shaking. Connor holds him tighter. 

“Should I…?” Evan asks suddenly. “Am I supposed to…?”

Connor shakes his head. “You don’t have to do anything,” he says softly. “Okay? That’s not how this goes. You don’t owe me anything. This is whatever you want it to be okay?”

“Okay,” Evan says shakily. “I’m just… I haven’t…”

“If you’re not ready then you’re not ready,” Connor says. Because it settles it. He doesn’t need anything else. “You don’t have to do anything, Evan. I don’t ever want you to feel that way. Okay? I don’t need anything. I’ve got you here. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

“Yeah?” Evan says shyly. 

“Yeah.” 

Evan pulls Connor in closer. Rests his head on Connor’s chest. Connor runs his fingers up and down the warm, soft skin of his back. Evan sighs. 

“You looked. Really good. By the way,” Connor says. “When you were…”

“Oh,” Evan says. “R-really?”

“Yeah,” Connor says. He kisses Evan softly. “You are so goddamn beautiful.” 

Evan pulls Connor in even closer. They kiss for a long long time, their hands everywhere, Evan’s tangling in Connor’s hair. Connor shivers after a while because it’s cool tonight and he’s not wearing a shirt and Evan’s warm but Connor gets cold easily. Evan pulls the covers up over them and then he tells Connor he should take off his jeans. “They c-can’t be comfortable.”

Connor consents. He’s not _wrong_ and it’s not like he’s being pervy or weird by asking considering what just happened. Connor removes his jeans. Somehow it’s warmer without them. They tangle together under the covers, warm skin touching, warm breath mixing, and Evan says, “You’ll tell me? If I fuck it up?” 

“You won’t,” Connor promises. “You don’t have to-”

“Want to,” Evan says. He looks like he’s concentrating really hard. It’s the cutest thing in the world. Connor has to kiss him more. Kiss him again and again and again. Fuck air. Fuck oxygen. He’ll live like this. Breathing in Evan and only Evan. 

Evan reaches into his boxers. “I don’t know how to…”

“Just. Whatever you’d do to yourself,” Connor says. He’s breathless. Shivering with anticipation. “You don’t _have_ to-” 

“Shut up,” Evan says softly. “I want to.” He swallows audibly. “Do you want me to?”

Connor nods, “Yes. If you’re sure then _yes.”_

Then he touches Connor. 

Fuck. 

Fuck Evan’s _touching_ him. 

Connor’s a collapsing star. He’s dissolving like a pill in water, like a sugar cube in coffee, he’s melting. “Fuck,” he pants into Evan’s mouth. “You’re amazing.” 

He _is_ amazing. He’s so amazing and so kind and his kisses are the best Connor’s ever had and he thinks his heart might explode with how much he feels for Evan. Right here. Right. Now. He’s never going to be able to express the intensity of what _right now_ feels like. 

Evan grabs a tissue and helps Connor clean up. Wraps himself up in Connor’s arms. They just lie there together for a long time. Quiet except for their breaths. Connor feels himself start to drift. He’s so warm and heavy and tired. He’s so _good_. He could float away. 

“I…” Connor starts. 

But it’s too soon. He knows that it is. And he’s too tired. 

“Hmm?” Evan asks sleepily. 

“‘M glad I met you,” Connor says. He buries his cold nose against Evan’s neck. _I love you._ “You’re my favorite.” He can hear his heart. Evan’s. Beating together, beating in sync. _I love you._ “Should get home. ‘M falling… asleep.”

“Don’t go,” Evan whispers. “Please don’t go.”

Connor holds on tighter. Fighting back the temptation of sleep. “Won’t. Not going anywhere.” He sighs. He’s so comfortable. Evan’s really warm. _I love you._ “Staying. With you. Gonna stay. Never leaving.”

He closes his eyes. Just for a second. 

Being happy is exhausting. 

Just for a second. Then he’ll open them again. 

Evan kisses his chest. His lips are warm. 

Connor loves him. He loves him. 

Just a sec… 

Connor’s eyes slip shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! at the Disco  
> Chapter title from "My Heart" by Paramore


	48. Til Tonight Do Us Part

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bus ride, an alleyway and a farewell.

Evan drifts for a while, in this warm, safe space between awake and asleep, with Connor wrapped around him. Connor’s face is in his neck and he can feel him breathing, even and slow, so Evan drifts in and out of sleep. 

And Connor stays, deep asleep against him. 

It takes a long time for Evan to even think.

To formulate a coherent thought. 

Connor is so wonderful. 

So wonderful. 

He’s here, he’s stayed, he…

He deserves everything. 

Everything. 

And Evan…

Evan has nothing to give him.

The thought hits him like a bucket of cold water, like being thrown into the deep end of a swimming pool, and it cuts through the warmth and the safety, washing away the afterglow and bringing Evan back to the reality of his situation. 

School is already hell for Connor and Evan’s gone and gotten himself suspended. Possibly expelled.

He could go to juvie. For what he did. He doesn’t know what happened to Brian, doesn’t know if he’s even  _ okay _ , he could have…

The guy is a complete asshole, sure, but he doesn’t deserve to die. 

Or be seriously hurt.

Evan is…

Evan’s a monster. He’s a monster, he’s a violent, terrible monster and he hurt someone, he  _ wanted  _ to hurt them, his knuckles are still bruised from the fight, his hands still ache from the impact. 

His hands, which he used to touch Connor. 

_ Touch  _ Connor.

He…

He’s in bed with his best friend, his male best friend, and they just jerked each other off and made out and Evan’s doing a really fucking terrible job of not being gay, fuck. 

And Alana Beck says that sexuality is a spectrum and it’s not just straight or gay, it’s a whole bunch of different things, but Evan can’t really process that right now, the only thing he knows is that based on tonight, he is definitely, 100% not straight, and that’s…

_ “You turn out to be a faggot, I’ll fucking kill you.” _

Oh god. 

Oh god, he…

He and Connor…

Gently, carefully, he pulls himself out of Connor’s grasp. Connor mumbles something sleepily, some form of protest, and Evan finds himself pressing a kiss to his cheek before pulling away properly. 

_ Way to go,  _ the voice in his head taunts him.  _ You’re dead. You know that, right? You’re dead. You always knew this was in the cards, didn’t you? You’ve just been waiting it out. Treading water. But you’re a car crash in a human suit, a collision that has to happen, you knew this would happen. You  _ knew _.  _

He tries to argue. 

He…

He didn’t know it would be like this. 

Didn’t know it would feel… so good, so peaceful, so safe and…

Maybe he could deal with it if it had been weird and awkward and out of place. Maybe he could handle it. But it had been... perfect. 

Connor is perfect. He’s beautiful and passionate and caring and loyal and absolutely, undoubtedly too good for Evan.

Connor’s been through too much pain.

Suffered too much. 

Evan won’t put him through this. Won’t make him stand and watch as Evan’s whole world burns around him. 

Because Evan’s life is over. He’s ruined every single aspect of it. 

Except this. 

This is the only good thing he’s got. 

So he can’t ruin it. 

He can’t stay. 

Connor is beautiful and passionate and caring and loyal, he’s so loyal. He will stand by Evan’s side as it all burns down. 

As Evan burns down. 

He’ll get caught in the fire. He’ll get hurt. 

Evan can’t let that happen. He has to…

He has to go. 

He has to get out of here, he has to go, all the preparation he’s done since he got here will pay off tonight because he has to  _ go _ . 

Not to get away from his world burning down, not to escape, not to run away. 

To protect what he loves from burning down with him. 

Protect Connor. Protect Heidi. 

Heidi. Fuck, he…

He’ll figure something out. A way to thank her, a way to pay her back. 

_ You know how to pay her back, _ the voice in his head tells him.  _ You pay her back by getting the fuck out of her life. By leaving, by sparing her your bullshit. You know exactly what to do, you’ve known for months, you’re just too much of a pussy to do it. _

Evan puts his shirt back on. His jeans. He watches Connor sleep the whole time. 

Connor’s hair is splayed across the pillow. His mouth is slightly open, long limbs thrown everywhere, and he shivers a little, like he’s cold without Evan. 

He can’t stand it. He goes to the linen closet and pulls out another blanket. Drapes it over Connor, who stops shivering almost immediately. Sighs contentedly. 

Connor is so beautiful. 

No one has ever made Evan feel the way Connor did tonight. So out of control, but also safe. Like he’s flying, floating in the air, but the ground is steady beneath him and there’s a way back when he needs it. 

Like a kite, he thinks stupidly. 

He’s so fucking  _ stupid _ . 

Connor is the most wonderful person Evan’s ever met. 

Stubborn and loyal and creative and kind and a  _ little shit  _ sometimes. 

The best person Evan knows. 

The very best. 

There’s a desk in the pool house, Evan remembers, and he heads there now, pulls out a piece of paper and some pen. Sits down and tries to figure out the words. 

Tries to figure out what to say to make it hurt less. 

Connor is stubborn and loyal and he feels so much, Evan doesn’t want to hurt him. 

_ You’re going to fucking have to, _ the voice in his head insists. _ You’re going to hurt him either way. Either you hurt him a little bit now or you destroy him later on. Don’t be selfish for once in your goddamn life and minimize the fucking damage.  _

He puts pen to paper. It’s short and it doesn’t say nearly enough, but hopefully it helps a little. Hopefully it’s… something. 

He puts it on the bedside table next to Connor. Sits on the edge of the bed and just looks at him for a moment. 

He looks young and unworried in his sleep. 

He’s smiling. 

He looks happy. 

Evan stares at that smile for a long time, trying to memorize every detail. 

He leans in and kisses Connor’s cheek. His forehead. 

Brushes Connor’s hair off his face. 

_ You’re doing the right thing,  _ the voice in his head tells him. It’s less mocking now, less vitriolic, just… sad and determined. 

Evan knows that it’s right. 

He slips out of the pool house as silently as he can manage. 

Heads back into the main house. It’s the middle of the night, and the whole world is in greyscale, but he knows his way through this too-big house now. He heads up the stairs and into his room. Gets changed. Throws on the clothes he wore when he first moved here, clothes he’d hid so they wouldn’t get thrown out. 

The jeans are tighter than they were. The hoodie worn and faded. 

It’s like putting on a costume. 

He’s not this person anymore. 

Then again, it’s not like he has any fucking clue  _ who  _ he is. Not really. 

He picks up his backpack. It’s still got everything in it. Still exactly how he packed it. 

He’s got everything. 

It’s time. 

Part of him is screaming to look in on Heidi, to see her one last time before he leaves, but he doesn’t think he can stand it. He’d just crumble. Dissolve. He’d lose it, he’d break, he…

Evan really wanted her to be his mom. 

He really fucking did. 

He puts on his backpack, quietly heads down the stairs and walks out into the night. 

* * *

The first thing Connor notices when he wakes up is that he’s cold. 

Shit. They must have fallen asleep after last night. 

Holy shit  _ last night.  _

Connor opens his eyes slowly. He figures if they’re in trouble for not telling anyone where they were, a few more minutes won’t change anything. 

He blindly reaches for Evan. 

His hand finds only empty space. 

His eyes open properly. 

What? 

Connor sits up. He probably just. Went to the bathroom or something. Went to get some water or…

Connor’s clothes are still on the floor. His shoes. 

Evan’s are gone. 

Just gone. 

Connor feels his heart leap into his throat. 

Maybe he… got dressed. 

“Evan?” he says, desperation coloring his words. Praying to a god he doesn’t believe in that Evan’s just in the other room and he’ll say he’s sorry he just went to do… something. 

There’s no answer. Connor wasn’t expecting one. Not really. 

Fuck, he really fucked up. 

He tried so hard to get it right this time but he still fucked it up. 

Fuck. 

Connor glances around desperately. For any sign of where Evan might have gone. 

He has this sinking feeling in his stomach. 

He knows he knows he knows before he even really knows. He can practically feel it in his bones. 

Evan’s gone. 

Connor’s alone. 

Evan left him alone. 

Connor’s eyes land on a piece of paper sitting on the bedside table. 

He snatches it fast. 

Reads. 

_ Dear Connor, _

_ I’m so sorry. I’m so damn sorry. I never meant to hurt you, never meant to hurt anyone, but I can’t take back what I did. I can’t fix how much I fucked up, how much I ruined everything. So I need to go. I hope you can forgive me. _

_ I’m not naive enough to think I can run away from my problems, because I know that I’m the biggest one. I’m a ticking time bomb with the fuse lit, I’m just trying to control the damage, to save you and Heidi from going down with me.  _

_ Tell Heidi that she is amazing and wonderful and unfailingly kind, more kind than I have ever deserved. Tell her how sorry I am that I let her down. I know I owe her so much more than that, more than I can ever repay, but we all know that the kindest thing I can do right now is leave.  _

_ You are the most amazing person I have ever known. No matter what happens next, I need you to know that none of this is on you. None of this is anyone’s fault but mine. I wish you all the happiness in the world because no one deserves it more.  _

_ I’m sorry.  _

_ I’m just so sorry.  _

_ Evan.  _

_ PS: I don’t regret any of it. Okay? I don’t regret anything.  _

Connor feels like he can’t breathe. His hand holding the paper shakes. 

He doesn’t regret any of it?

What the fuck comfort is that supposed to bring? 

What the fuck. 

It takes a long moment for the rest of the note to settle in his brain. 

He’s leaving. 

He’s already left. The bed beside Connor is cold. He’s already left. 

No. 

No that’s not. 

Connor scrambles out of the bed. Glances at his phone. It’s just after 6:30 in the morning. 

He can’t be gone. No. He can’t let Evan just leave. Not like this. Not now. 

No it’s not. 

He can’t… 

Connor throws on his clothes. His shoes. He grabs the letter and races up to the main house. 

It’s locked. Of course. 

Connor doesn’t have Heidi’s keys. 

In desperation, he circles to the front and rings the doorbell. Frantically, over and over. He pounds on the front door. 

Heidi appears in the doorway, looking tired in her glasses and pajamas. “Connor?” She says, pulling the door open. “What’s going on?”

“Evan’s gone,” he says, his voice cracking. “He’s gone. He left.”

“No,” Heidi says, shaking her head. “He just slept in the pool house… we argued last night, he just needed to cool off…”

“Heidi. Listen. He’s gone.” He thrusts the note into her hands. 

She reads it quickly. Her face goes ashen. 

“What does he mean he doesn’t regret any of it?” She whispers. 

Connor has no fucking idea. “I don’t… he.” His face heats up. “That’s not important okay? We need to find him.”

Heidi nods. She looks close to tears. “I never made him get rid of the bag. With the money, with all of his things…”

Connor wants to scream at her. What the fuck? Why would she let him keep it?

“Maybe he didn’t take it?” Connor says stupidly, desperation coloring his words. He already knows he’s wrong but he tears up to Evan’s bedroom anyway. Throws open the closet. 

The bag is gone. Predictably. 

Evan only recently started to decorate this room. Like it was actually his. There’s a Panic! poster that Connor gave him hung in the corner of the room. A stupid print out of a picture Sabrina Patel took of their lunch table a few weeks ago. Connor’s the one holding the camera out. He has the longest arms. 

They kept joking that the group was three-quarters gay. 

Maybe four quarters, after last night. 

Stupid. 

Connor did this. He’s what made Evan leave. 

Heidi paces the floor in Evan’s room. “He has bus schedules printed out. There was a 6am Greyhound heading to Boise in there.”

“Boise?” Connor says stupidly. “Why the hell would he go to Idaho?”

Heidi’s not listening. She’s making a phone call. 

“I don’t think he’d leave the state,” Connor says. He doesn’t know why it just. Doesn’t seem right. “His mom’s buried here, he wouldn’t just-”

Heidi’s not listening. She’s calling information, calling the Greyhound station. 

Fuck this. 

“I’ll be back,” he says shortly. 

Connor heads to his own house. Rockets up the stairs. Bursts into his parents’ room, not even knocking. His mom is in there. Alone. 

“What?” She says sleepily. 

Connor leaves without a word. He goes to the guest room where he finds his dad, sitting on the bed and looking tired. 

“Dad,” Connor says. His voice breaks. 

“What’s the matter?”

“Evan’s missing. He’s. He’s gone, I think he ran away I think he left and it’s-it’s my fault.”

It is, it’s his fault all Connor’s fault he doesn’t care what Evan’s note says he knows he’s the one who did this he’s the one who caused this because he ruins everything. Everything he touches turns bad everything he wants backfires  _ he _ did this. 

His dad stands quickly. He puts his hands on Connor’s shoulders and Connor realizes how fast he’s breathing. How hard he’s shaking. 

“Slow down. Tell me what happened.”

Connor tries to breathe. It’s a struggle. His throat is closing. “Evan’s missing. It’s my-my fault.”

“Why do you say that? Did something happen?”

Connor tries to catch his breath but he can’t he can’t Evan’s gone and nobody is  _ listening _ Evan could be hurt or in trouble he could be  _ dead.  _

Oh god. 

Oh god oh god. 

“He- he l-left and there was a note and it’s  _ my  _ fault. It’s my fault. We have to go find him we have to stop him we have to fix this-”

“This isn’t your fault.”

“You’re not fucking listening to me!” Connor practically screams. 

His dad gathers Connor in a tight hug. Doesn’t let go, even as Connor struggles and fights and screams and cries. 

His dad doesn’t let go. 

“He left because of me.”

“No,” his dad says. “No. He got into trouble yesterday, Connor. He’s in a lot of trouble. I talked to Heidi. He knocked Brian Harris out, Brian’s got a nasty concussion. Evan could be going to juvie, he knew he was on probation. You didn’t do this.”

“We hooked up,” Connor cries. “Last night. We hooked up and I think it freaked him out and-and he. He’s gone and Heidi thinks he got on a b-bus and-and… We  _ have  _ to find him. We have to go  _ now.  _ Please please we can’t let him leave we can’t…”

His dad just lets Connor cry himself out. 

When he finally quiets, his dad lets Connor go. “We will sort this out,” his dad says firmly. “He’s a kid. Doesn’t even have his license yet. He can’t have gone far.” 

He stands up. 

“Where are you going?”

“To talk to Heidi. You stay here. Call him. Keep calling until he answers okay?”

“I’m going with you,” Connor protests. 

“No,” his dad says firmly. “No. You will stay right here. Do you understand?”

Connor nods mutely. Watches as his dad leaves. 

And breaks. 

Totally breaks. 

Evan’s gone. He’s gone he left he left Connor alone and Connor has no idea where he could even be. 

He’s so stupid. Selfish. Why would he do this? Why would he..?

Connor remembers suddenly what Evan told him. About his dad. How he said he would kill Evan if he ever turned out to be gay. 

Connor feels sick. So sick. 

He barely makes it to the bathroom before he’s throwing up everything in the toilet. 

Zoe pokes her head into the bathroom while he’s still puking. 

“Ugh. Could you please be bulimic a little quieter?”

“Fuck you,” Connor mutters, spitting angrily into the toilet bowl. 

“Seriously you’re gonna wake up mom with all this noise you’re making,” she says caustically. 

“Evan’s missing,” Connor shouts at her. He flushes the toilet shakily. Gets up to rinse out his mouth. “So just shut the fuck up. For once in your life just shut your fucking  _ mouth. _ ”

* * *

Evan buys a ticket for the 6am Greyhound heading for Boise. 

Makes sure to be memorable. To be seen. Obvious. This weird, stuttering, nervous kid, buying a ticket. 

It’s not hard. He doesn’t have to fake it. 

He’s such a disaster. 

He pays in cash, obviously, pulling money out of a ziplock bag, to make it even more noticeable. The guy at the counter who looked bored at first is clearly paying attention now. 

Good. 

That’s good, that’s what he wants. To be noticed. 

For now. 

He walks around so that the guy at the counter sees him heading toward the bus, then sneaks behind the bus and waits for a while. 

He puts the ziplock bag safely away after taking out $20. Goes to a nearby convenience store and breaks the bills, buying gum and a bottle of water.

Hides out for a while somewhere no one can see him. Watches as the Greyhound leaves with a tight chest. 

Evan’s not stupid. He and Heidi talked about his escape plan, he can’t just go to fucking Idaho when she knows he’s got a bus timetable to get there, fuck. 

He hates the idea of her worrying, of sending her on a wild goose chase, but he knows that she’s sensible and logical. That the first thing she’ll do is call the Greyhound station. 

Who will tell him that a kid matching his description who seemed nervous and paid in cash bought a ticket for the 6am bus to Boise. 

It takes a little while to walk to the next local bus stop, but he’s got time. Hopefully, he’s bought himself enough time. 

Enough time to get on a local bus at seven. A bus that’s headed back to Chino. 

He can’t quite bring himself to call it home.

The bus ride to Chino is longer than the drive. Over twice as long, as it stops and starts. Things don’t start to look familiar until two hours later when he finally arrives where he grew up. 

It’s the same as it was last time he was here, when he visited with Connor in February. A little warmer, maybe, but it hasn’t changed. Not in any way that matters. 

Now that he’s here, Evan’s not sure he’s brave enough to go through with it. 

Brave enough to do what has to be done. 

There’s a florist near the bus stop, and he goes in. Talks to the woman behind the counter, asks what she can put together for him in a hurry. 

“It’s for m-my mom,” he tells her quietly. “For… for her grave? I… c-can it be something that’ll last a while? I h-have money.”

The florist looks a little skeptical. Asks about his budget. 

He gives her two hundred dollars, and her eyes widen. 

She looks horribly sad for a moment, then steadies herself and starts talking him through options. 

It takes nearly an hour, but he ends up with a beautiful wreath that the florist assures him will last at least a week. She asks him what cemetery he’s going to, and then when he answers her eyes widen a little. 

“It’s not really customary to leave flowers at a Jewish grave,” she says, a little hesitantly. “It’s not against the rules or anything, it’s just not… really a thing?” 

Evan feels his eyes sting. 

He didn’t know. 

He’s so fucking useless, he didn’t  _ know _ . 

There are so many things he just doesn’t know, he’s so stupid. 

The florist looks even more alarmed when it’s clear that he’s about to lose it. “Hey, it’s okay, it’s definitely the thought that counts here.” She frowns, looking genuinely sorry for him. “Give me a second.”

She disappears into the back, then comes back with a smooth gray rock. Places it on the counter. He stares at it for a moment. 

“In Judaism, they leave stones at graves,” she says, looking at him. 

Evan blinks. “Okay,” he says. He goes for his bag. “How much do I owe you-”

“Nothing extra,” says the woman quietly. “I’m sorry about your mom, kid.” She looks so sad. “Was it recent?”

Evan thinks about Heidi screaming at him last night. 

He wanted her to be his mom so badly. 

“Yeah,” he manages to choke out. 

He gets a cab to the cemetery. Asks the cab driver if he can wait, telling him he won’t be long. The cab driver raises his eyebrows, like he’s about to ask if Evan can afford to keep the meter running. Evan gives him a hundred dollars so he won’t ask questions. Promises more once he’s done. 

It seems to do the trick. The driver says he’ll stay.

This must be what it’s like to be rich, he thinks idly as he takes the wreath and the stone and walks toward his mom’s grave.

People just do shit for you if you give them enough money. 

He makes his way to his mom’s grave. As he passes the other graves, he notices the occasional flower arrangement, sure, but mostly there are stones, like the florist said. Piles of stones, scattered along graves, almost haphazardly. 

There’s a man in a hat placing a stone maybe three feet from Evan’s mother’s grave. From the way he’s dressed, Evan thinks he’s an Orthodox Jew. 

It’s suddenly important that he understands. 

There’s so fucking much he doesn’t know. He wants to know this. 

“Excuse me,” he says quietly. The man turns and looks at him. He looks surprised, but his face is kind. “I w-w-was wondering if y-you could help me?”

“Of course,” says the man, standing up and looking at Evan. He’s about Evan’s height. Older than Heidi, but not, like, super old. “Are you alright?”

Evan steadies himself. “My m-mom is buried just over there,” he says quietly. “And I-I went to the florist to get these for her grave b-but she told me that it’s not… sh-she told me there were stones? So I-I have a stone, I just don’t… I don’t know, is there something I’m supposed to d-do with it?”

The man blinks. He’s wearing that same sad expression that the florist was wearing earlier, and fuck, Evan’s just bringing the mood down for the whole fucking town. “There are different schools of thought,” he says, his voice kind and smooth. “Some say it’s to keep the soul in the grave, to keep the dead where they belong so their spirits can rest. So they can’t escape and haunt the living.” 

Evan looks to his mom’s grave. There aren’t any stones on it. 

He feels a shiver run through him. 

Maybe that’s why he thinks about her all the time. He didn’t put a stone on her grave like he was supposed to and now she’s haunting him. 

She must be so fucking disappointed in him.

The man seems to notice he’s upset. He takes another step toward Evan. “Which one’s your mother?” he asks. 

Seconds later, he’s standing at his mother’s grave with a stranger. 

“I’ve only visited her a few times,” Evan admits, his voice quiet. “I… she d-died when I was seven. I’m sixteen, I… I kn-know that mourning is important in Jewish culture and I d-don’t think I did it right.” His shoulders slump. “I didn’t do any of it right.”

The man nods. “Do you know the anniversary of her death?” he asks quietly. “Her yahrzeit?”

Evan flinches. “It’s not… it’s not now, it was a few weeks ago, I…” He takes a breath. “I w-was in foster care for a bit? And m-my dad isn’t Jewish. I… I’ve on-only just started to understand, I was s-so little when she died and no one… no one told me and I’m d-doing it  _ wrong _ .”

“We’re all stumbling,” the man says with a sad smile. “All of us stumble around blindly, trying to figure out what God requires of us.” He puts a hand on Evan’s shoulder. Squeezes it lightly. “Would it be alright if I said the Kaddish? It’s a prayer for the dead.”

“I’d like that,” Evan says, feeling his eyes sting. 

The man takes a steadying breath, then begins to recite a prayer, familiar-sounding despite the unfamiliar language, and Evan feels… almost peaceful. 

He puts the wreath in front of the tombstone. 

Puts the stone on top. 

The man just stands there with Evan for a long time. 

“Would you like to hear why I believe we put stones on graves?” the man asks after a while. Evan nods, and the man clears his throat. “Flowers are a symbol of life, but life is fleeting. Fragile. Flowers die, just like our bodies do. But stones are a symbol of the soul. And souls are eternal.” He pauses. “So are our memories of the people we love. They stay. Like the stones.”

Evan thinks he likes that. 

He wonders if anyone will put stones on his grave when he dies. 

He hopes so. 

Evan sits at his mom’s grave for a while after the man leaves. Just sits with her. He doesn’t have the words to explain what's happening. Doesn’t want to admit it. Not really. 

He remembers telling her that he’d be back after visiting after he got sick this winter. 

Remembers how he was going to bring Heidi here to meet her. 

He didn’t do that. They didn’t get a chance. 

Evan opens his backpack and finds the little bag full of his mom’s things. It’s suddenly important that he doesn’t take these with him to where he’s going next. 

He makes sure the bag is sealed tightly, closed with the drawstrings. Then he puts it behind the flower wreath. Hopefully it’ll be safe here. Hopefully no one will take it. 

“I love you,” he tells his mom.

Then he stands up and he leaves the cemetery for what will be the last time. 

* * *

Heidi isn’t going to fall apart. 

She is not going to fucking fall apart, she has a job to do. 

She has to find Evan. She has to, she can’t…

She can’t let him leave. Can’t let him make things worse for himself by leaving the state, by running off, can’t let him try to make it on his own. 

He’s a kid. 

He’s just a kid. 

Why didn’t she take his bag? Why did she let him keep it, what the fuck was she thinking? 

She’d wanted him to feel safe. Wanted him to feel like he had options. He said he wouldn’t go anywhere, he…

The fucking Greyhound bus is still trying to put her through to the right people and it’s driving her crazy. She puts the phone on speaker while they have her on hold and throws on some clothes. 

If he’s on his way to Boise on a 6 am bus, the bus will stop somewhere mid-morning for a snack break. If they can just fucking tell her where that stop is, she can get there before the bus if she’s smart about it. 

She’s fully dressed when she hears the front door open. 

“Heidi?”

She throws open the door of her room and grabs the phone. Larry’s coming up the stairs in jeans and a t-shirt, his face tight with fear. 

“I’m on hold with the bus,” she explains quickly. “I think he’s gone to-”

There’s a voice on the end of the line. She reacts instantly.

The guy at the local station is helpful. Tells her that yes, he did sell a teenage boy with dark blond hair a ticket to Boise this morning. That he’d seemed distressed and paid in cash. Tells her where the best place to intercept the bus is.

Heidi feels like she could cry with gratitude. “Thank you,” she tells him. “Just… thank you so much.” She ends the call and looks at Larry. “He’s on a Greyhound to Idaho. They’ll stop in Calligonum Valley just after 10. It’s about two, two and a half hours drive from here.”

Larry looks at his watch. “It’s not even seven yet,” he says, sounding relieved. “We can make it.”

“You don’t have to-”

“You’re not doing this alone,” Larry says fiercely. 

Heidi nods. “Let’s go.”

She grabs her purse and her keys, then throws on some shoes. Larry’s talking on the phone when she heads down the stairs. 

“... about a two-hour drive from here, the bus will arrive just after ten, so we’ve got plenty of time,” he says, his voice calm and soothing. “We’re leaving now… no, just stay put, okay? We know where he’s going, we know where he is, we will get him home, I promise… he bought a ticket, Connor, Heidi talked to the station, we know where he is. I’ll call you as soon as we have him safe, okay? It’s going to be okay. I love you.”

“Is Connor okay?” Heidi asks as they head to the garage. Larry, to his credit, doesn’t try to pull any bullshit and dutifully gets in the passenger side. 

“He’s scared,” Larry says, his voice tight. He shifts his jaw. “He… he thinks it’s his fault. He told me that he and Evan hooked up last night.”

Heidi blinks. “They did?”

Larry shrugs helplessly. “That’s what he said. Connor’s afraid Evan freaked out about it and that’s why he left.”

Heidi feels her heart pounding too fast. “No,” she says sadly. “This one’s on me, I yelled at him, chewed him out for being stupid.” She grips the steering wheel tighter as they head down the driveway and out of their gated community. “I was too hard on him, I know I was, I was just… terrified.” She blinks heavily, willing herself not to cry. “I could lose him over this, Larry.” 

“You won’t,” Larry replies, the fierceness back in his voice. “I’ll talk to Tony Harris. Get him to drop the charges.” 

“Tony’s not going to-”

“He knows Brian’s a fucking idiot,” Larry interrupts firmly. “He’s just scared. He’ll calm down once it’s clear Brian’s out of the woods.” 

“I wouldn’t,” Heidi says, frowning. “No matter how stupid Evan was being if someone had hurt him… I’d want my pound of flesh.”

Larry leans his head back on the seat. Heidi can see he’s frowning in the mirror. “We’ll figure something out,” he says stubbornly. “We will figure something out.”

“Child Services are visiting on Monday,” Heidi admits, her voice small. She swallows hard. “Larry, what if the bus is early, or makes a different stop, or he’s not on the bus at all? What do I do then?”

“We will find him,” Larry says determinedly. “We will  _ find  _ him, Heidi.”

It’s a long drive. Tense. 

They’re quiet for most of it, with the occasional conversation. 

“I thought Evan was straight,” Larry says about half an hour in. Like he’s been sitting on it for the drive so far. “But Connor says they hooked up?”

Heidi laughs a little helplessly. “I have no idea,” she says. 

Larry looks at her, a little impatiently. “What does hooking up even mean? Like, did they…” He clears his throat. “Did they make out or have sex or-”

“I don’t know,” Heidi replies, trying not to sound as irritated as she is by the question. “I have no idea, come on Larry, you’re the one with multiple teenagers, why the fuck are you asking me?”

Larry kind of sags in his seat for a bit. 

Heidi sighs. “I couldn’t care less whether Evan likes girls or boys or both or neither, I…” She swallows hard. “I didn’t think he knew.”

Larry looks confused. “Knew what?”

“How he felt about Connor,” Heidi says simply.

“How do you not  _ know  _ how you feel?” Larry asks, clearly confused. “How do you not know that?”

Heidi laughs properly at that. “We’re not all hopeless romantics like you,” she says, a little teasingly. “Some of us need a bit of time to figure things out.”

It’s quiet for a little while. 

“Is that what happened with you and David?” Larry asks quietly. 

Heidi smiles. “I mean,” she says, shrugging a little, “I met David in my first year of practicing law. I didn’t exactly plan on falling in love.”

Larry looks a little taken aback. “You don’t  _ plan  _ on falling in love, you just… do. The heart wants what it wants.”

Heidi feels a pang in her chest. “That’s true,” she says diplomatically. “But not everyone can let their heart take charge like that.”

Larry looks like he wants to argue, but doesn’t. 

Heidi appreciates it. 

They get to Calligonum Valley just after 9 am.

Larry buys them both coffee and texts Connor. 

And then they wait.

A few minutes past ten, the Greyhound bus pulls in. Heidi rushes over immediately and waits for the bus to empty out. Stands by the door so there’s no choice but for Evan to see her. 

The passengers stream out, bleary-eyed and exhausted. 

Then they stop. 

No Evan. 

She calls out to the bus driver. “Excuse me, I’m looking for my kid? He’s sixteen, he’s got dark blond hair… they told me he got on this bus in Orange County.”

The bus driver frowns. Shakes his head. “No, I didn’t see him. Sorry.”

“Are you sure?” she pleads. 

The bus driver looks genuinely apologetic. “It wasn’t packed,” he says. “If he’d gotten on the bus, I would have seen him.”

Heidi thinks she might black out. 

Like, genuinely just… lose consciousness, shut down completely. 

Larry’s at her side, his hand on her shoulder. “What’s going on?” 

“He didn’t get on the bus,” Heidi says faintly. She thinks she’s going to be sick. “I have no idea where he is.”

* * *

Connor’s dad sounds genuinely freaked when he calls Connor a couple of hours later. 

“Evan wasn’t on the bus,” he says. “We know he bought a ticket but the driver never saw him.”

“Damn it,” Connor says to himself, his heart racing. “Damn it, I knew he wouldn’t have gotten on the bus, he’d already told Heidi that was his plan-”

“Connor.”

“I think he might have gone back to Chino,” Connor goes on. “I’m like ninety nine percent positive he-”

“Connor, why would he go there?” His dad says, like Connor is being foolish. “He’s afraid of his dad, he wouldn't purposely put himself in danger like that.”

Except he would, Connor realizes. 

His note. 

He said how he’d ruined everything. 

He said no matter what happens next… 

He isn’t running away, Connor realizes, going cold. He’s not running away. The note was saying  _ goodbye.  _

Connor stands up. Grabs his keys. 

“He’s in Chino,” Connor says firmly. “I have a feeling, I need to get going before he does something stupid-”

“You’re not going anywhere,” his dad says, his voice commanding. A voice Connor’s always known meant business. Wasn’t to be trifled with. “You are going to stay put and keep calling him, okay? Heidi and I will be back soon-”

Not soon enough, Connor thinks. 

His dad said he would kill him if Evan turned out to be gay and Connor suddenly knows that Evan is  _ counting  _ on that. 

He needs to go. 

He hangs up on his dad. Grabs his keys and rushes out of the house on weak knees, heading for his car. He’s only been to see Evan’s old place once he hopes he remembers how the fuck to get there he hopes he’s not too late. 

His hands shake as he tries to get his car started. They’re shaking too badly to manage it.

No. 

No damn it he needs to get his  _ shit  _ together he cannot fail Evan not now not now. 

There’s a knock on his window. 

It’s Zoe. She looks annoyed. 

He’s parking her car in, Connor realizes. 

“You gonna move?” She says irritably. 

“Evan went to his dad’s,” Connor tells her desperately. 

Zoe makes a face. “So? He’s had a shitty week. Maybe he just wants to see his dad. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

“Zo,” Connor pleads. “His dad’s… he’s not a good guy, okay?” 

“Sounds like he’s kind of a deadbeat but I still don’t see the big deal-”

“His dad might hurt him, Zo, he might actually kill him.”

Zoe doesn’t look impressed. “Oh stop being so dramatic, I’m sure he’s fine. It’s his  _ dad.  _ Dad’s don’t do that shit. They’ll talk and Evan’ll get his head out of his ass and come back once all this Brian shit blows over.”

“Zo. Please,” Connor hears himself begging. “I need to go get him before it’s too late.”

She rolls her eyes. “Will you chill out, Jesus-?”

Connor stumbles out of the car. “Zo. I wouldn’t ask if I had any other option. His dad is a bad guy. He’s dangerous. Please. I can’t  _ drive,  _ I can’t think… Please I’m scared he’s going to  _ die. _ ”

Her face loosens. “You’re not fucking with me?”

He shakes his head frantically. “Please.”

“Fine. Give me your keys,” she says. 

“What?”

“I’m driving, moron. You said yourself you can’t drive.”

Connor hands them over. Zoe slides into the driver’s seat. Connor hurries to the other side of the car and Zoe reverses like a maniac before he’s even buckled in, speeding out of their gated community and toward the highway. 

“Thank you,” he tells her. 

She shrugs. “Tell me where I’m going.”

* * *

The cab ride comes out to around $150. 

Evan gives the guy $200 and tells him to keep the change, then gets out of the cab. Looks up at the apartment building he lived in from the age of eleven until Mark and Elaine kicked him out last August. 

It feels like a lifetime ago. 

He had no idea who he was back then, and he still doesn’t, but at least he’s tried some things out. Found out what doesn’t work. 

What works. 

What could work. 

He’s got enough money to get back to Orange County. He could just… go back. 

Evan pictures it. Sneaking back into the pool house, crawling back into bed with a still sleeping Connor, who’d cuddle up to him immediately, his skinny arms holding him and keeping him safe. 

It’s stupid, obviously. Connor will have woken up by now. 

Heidi, too. 

They’ll have figured out he’s gone. They’ll be so fucking mad. 

Evan opens the front pocket of his bag. Pulls out his cellphone. 

Hundreds of calls and texts. 

From Heidi. 

From Connor. 

A few from Alana Beck, even, though from what he can see, they’re more about him having been expelled.

Suspended. 

It doesn’t matter now, it’s all semantics. 

He can’t go back. 

Not now. Not ever. 

He shouldn’t have been there in the first place. Shouldn’t have ruined these people’s lives. 

They’ll be better off without him. He knows that. 

All of fucking Orange County knows that. 

His phone rings in his hand, playing that damn personalized ringtone Connor insisted on putting on. It’s about twenty seconds of a Panic! At The Disco song that just loops and loops, the longer the call goes on. 

He puts the phone in his bag, buried under some clothes. 

He knows he should just turn it off, but he can’t bring himself to do it. 

He’s a coward. A fucking coward, he can’t even…

He’s not even doing this himself. Not taking any fucking responsibility for himself, just… 

His mom took pills. Connor took pills. 

Evan’s doing things differently. 

_ You’re doing it how it needs to be done, _ the voice in his head tells him.  _ It’s kinder to Connor and Heidi if you do it this way. They can let themselves believe it wasn’t on purpose like this.  _

It’s bullshit, he knows. Connor’s not fucking stupid. 

But maybe he’ll be kind enough to himself to believe the lie. 

If he can believe in a liar like Evan, then maybe he can swallow this lie, too. 

He lets himself into the apartment building with the key he still has. The door still sticks the way it always did, works if he turns it just so. 

He makes his way up the stairs. 

Stands in front of the door of Mark and Elaine’s apartment for a moment. 

Puts his key in the lock and lets himself in. 

The first thing he notices is the smell of beer. The place reeks of it. He makes his way through a kitchen piled with dishes, to the living room, where the windows are shut, the curtains are closed and the TV is on. 

Elaine wasn’t, like, a domestic goddess or anything, but she’d never let the place get like this. 

That means she’s gone. 

Wonder how long it’s been. 

Mark’s sitting in his armchair in sweats and a t-shirt, snoring even though it’s nearly eleven by now. Maybe he was on night shifts. 

Evan doesn’t know. Doesn’t much care. 

He sits on the sofa across from the armchair and looks at his dad for a long moment. 

He looks the same as he did back in February. 

Maybe a little heavier. 

He reeks of alcohol.

Evan needs to stop being a fucking pussy about this. He leans over and shakes Mark awake. 

Mark’s eyes shoot open. For a moment he looks confused, almost scared, but it passes quickly. He looks at Evan and scowls. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Didn’t work out in Orange County,” he says, sitting back down on the sofa.

He spent years figuring out how not to piss off his dad, which means he knows exactly how to piss him off. 

He can do this. 

“That lawyer bitch made me sign something,” Mark sneers. “Said I wouldn’t have to deal with you again.”

“Yeah, well, you’re still my dad, and I’m not eighteen yet, so guess you’re shit out of luck.” 

He’s surprised at how his voice doesn’t shake. 

It’s smooth and strong and confident. 

That’s how he knows this is the right move. 

That’s how he knows he’s doing the right thing. 

Mark stands up. Towers over him. 

Evan stands up, too, and Mark looks pissed. He knew he would. 

Knows that looking Mark in the eye is like a red rag to a bull. 

But that’s what he’s counting on, isn’t it?

“So,” Evan says, looking around. “Elaine left you. Saw that one coming a mile away.”

Mark clenches his fists. “Shut the fuck up.”

“You always said I was the problem,” he continues with a smirk, “but it looks like you’ve got no one to blame but yourself.”

“You shut your fucking mouth,” Mark growls, “or I’ll shut it for you. Get the fuck out of here.”

“Want to know what I’ve been up to in Orange County, Mark?” Evan asks. 

Mark’s face is red with anger, and there’s a part of Evan that’s screaming to just run, to get the fuck out of here, that this is the worst possible idea. 

_ Danger danger danger.  _

_ You’re going to get yourself killed, you fucking idiot.  _

But that’s what he’s counting on, isn’t it?

“I’ll tell you,” Evan continues, almost cheerfully. It’s funny how confident he is in signing his own death warrant. “I’ve been kissing boys. Well, one boy, if you want to get technical, but… congratulations, your son’s a fag. I just thought you should know since you always wanted to tell me how much you hated them, how you thought they deserved to be dead-”

The first blow lands in the center of his chest, where he’s already bruised from Brian and Chad. 

It lands hard. 

_ Fucking finally,  _ sneers the voice in his head.  _ Get this shit fucking over with.  _

Evan doesn’t fall. Not yet. He steadies himself, and keeps talking, despite the burning in his chest. “I let him touch me. Touched him back. And I liked it.”

A knee to the stomach. 

A punch in the head.

“You know,” says Evan conversationally, “there’s a lot to be said for letting a guy touch your dick. Guys definitely know their way around. Maybe you should try it sometime, Mark.”

Evan’s too out of breath to continue, but he doesn’t have to. Mark’s swearing and yelling, and he throws another punch and Evan goes down. 

Any other time he’d get back up. 

There’s a part of him screaming to punch Mark right back. 

But that isn’t what this is about. 

Mark starts to kick him. In the stomach, the ribs, then finally the head. 

Fucking finally. 

It all gets hazy after that. Fragments, really. Blood and pain and gasping for breath. Being kicked down a flight of stairs, then dragged out the back to the alley behind the apartment building where Mark would always try to do his real damage. 

If Mark was really angry, really wanted to hurt Evan, he’d do it in the alleyway, because no one ever comes here. 

Seems as good a place as any to die. 

Everything sways. Alternates between short sharp bursts of pain and a dull fucking ache. Mark’s swearing and yelling and calling him a fag, telling him he’ll kill him, and then all of a sudden, it’s quiet. 

“Fuck,” Mark mutters. “Shit, fuck.”

Guess he’s figured out that beating someone to death is a felony or whatever, Evan thinks before everything fades to black. 

It goes like this. 

A slow fade out, a quick fade in. 

The smell of hot garbage and cat piss. 

Sharp pain and dull aches. 

Flashes of… something. 

He’s cold. 

His mom puts a blanket around his shoulders. Lets him climb into her lap. 

Strokes his hair as he falls asleep. 

It’s nice. 

Peaceful. 

There are worse ways to die. 

* * *

It’s a tense drive. No music. Very little talking. 

“I don’t know why he’d leave,” Zoe says after maybe twenty minutes. She’s managed to navigate them around a crash and is now doing 90 down the highway. “It was just a fight.”

“He’s on probation,” Connor says softly. “He stole a car. That’s how he met Heidi. She’s his lawyer.”

Zoe’s shoulders tense. “And you let me go on a  _ date  _ with him?” She grinds out. “What kind of shitty older brother are you?”

“It wasn’t  _ his  _ idea to steal the car!” Connor shouts. “His dad’s girlfriend has a shitty kid, okay? He’s not violent. I knew he wouldn’t fuck with you.”

Zoe sighs. “But…  _ you  _ like him.”

Connor shrugs. “I wasn’t trying out this whole thing where I’m  _ not  _ an asshole to you just for fun. Nice of you to notice.” He looks at his nails for lack of anything better to do. “Besides you haven’t exactly got the moral high ground here. You were fucking Sabrina Patel the whole time, weren’t you?”

Zoe says nothing. 

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” she asks suddenly. “I’ve been… kind of shitty to you. You could have told people. Got back at me. Ruined my life.”

Connor sighs. “Outing someone is a really fucking shitty thing to do,” he says a little pointedly.

She shifts uncomfortably from the driver’s seat. He watches her push the car to 95. 

“Why did you tell Evan I was gay?” Connor asks suddenly. His heart squeezes painfully at Evan’s name.

“I was stupidly jealous,” she says. “Seems pretty fucking stupid now.”

Yeah. It does. 

“I heard you yelling at dad this morning,” Zoe says finally. 

Connor doesn’t follow. 

“You and Evan hooked up?” she says, her voice determinedly casual. 

“We’re not talking about this,” Connor says. 

“We’re not gonna be there for at least twenty more minutes,” Zoe says awkwardly. 

“We don’t. Do this kind of shit,” Connor says. “Me and you. We don’t do this.”

“Yeah well look how well that’s worked out for us,” Zoe mutters. 

She’s got a point. 

He sighs. “Yeah. We hooked up last night.”

“So he  _ is  _ gay then.”

“I dunno, Zo, I didn’t exactly  _ ask  _ him when we were in the middle of it,” Connor says hotly. His face is burning. 

“Did you have sex?”

“What? Zoe, Jesus  _ fuck _ , just focus on the damn road,” Connor says. 

“I’m just curious!” she says. “Like, I don’t know anything about any of this stuff, okay?”

She’s asking because. She doesn’t know what being gay means. She’s asking him because he knows. Fuck. 

He’s being an asshole. 

“We didn’t have like…” he doesn’t know how to phrase it. “We just. Hand stuff okay? I don’t… he’s never been with anyone before I didn’t think it would be like. Right. To push for that.”

She nods. “Okay.” 

She sighs. 

Connor tells her to take the next exit. 

She does. Slows down considerably once they get into more residential areas. 

Her eyes are huge. 

“ _ This  _ is where he’s from?” Zoe asks. 

Connor nods. “Yeah, it’s not exactly  _ Seattle. _ ” 

He directs her from memory past the library. To Evan’s dad’s apartment building. 

It looks even more bleak and pathetic today. 

Connor hates it. 

“Right here,” he tells Zoe. She pulls into the parking lot. She parks. Looks at him. 

“Okay,” Connor says. He takes a deep breath and unbuckles his seatbelt. “You’ve got your phone, right?”

“What? No, I’m going with you.”

“No, you’re not,” Connor says angrily. She opens her mouth to protest. “His dad’s a violent drunk okay? So you are gonna lock the car and fucking wait right here.”

“But-”

“You wanna tell me how I’m a shitty brother, fine, but you are not going in there with me. I’m not letting you get hurt.”

She sighs. “Fine.”

“Keep your phone on you,” Connor says as calmly as he can. “If I don’t come back in… fifteen minutes, call 911.”

“What?” She yelps. “How dangerous is this guy?”

“Fifteen minutes Zoe,” he says harshly. Gets out of the car. Shuts the door and waits for her to lock it. She looks pale and scared. 

Connor takes a shaky breath. 

He pulls his hood over his head. He’s hoping to gain even the slightest amount of intimidation here. 

Finds himself thinking stupidly that he’s glad he’s wearing his boots. 

The door to the building is propped open. Like someone didn’t want to bother unlocking it to let someone else in. 

Lucky for Connor, he guesses. 

He steps inside. Stares for a second at the mailboxes to figure out which one is Evan’s dad’s place. 

2B. 

Connor tries Evan’s phone again. Maybe he’s just upstairs. Maybe Connor can convince him to come  _ home.  _ It goes to voicemail. 

Connor takes a breath. Heads up the stairs. Wills himself to stop fucking shaking. 

He draws himself up to his full height (he’s six feet, three inches at last check) and pounds on Mark’s door. 

Pounds and pounds until his fist hurts and then the door finally yanks open. 

Marks opens it. His eyes are glazed over. “The fuck you want?”

Connor shoves past him. “Evan?” He calls out. 

“Kid’s not fucking here,” Mark slurs. The apartment is disgusting. Beer cans everywhere. Connor watches a roach skitter across the floor. There’s old food piled on plates in places. “Haven’t seen him since that lawyer bitch-”

Connor loses it. He grabs this weak, pathetic man by the collar and slams him against the wall. “I know he came here. Where the fuck is he?”

Mark looks scared. His eyes are the same color as Evan’s, but they hold none of their warmth. “I haven’t seen him!”

Connor shoves him again. Harder. Mark’s head slaps against the wall hard. A picture frame slips off its nail and clatters to the ground. Mark swings out drunkenly but Connor is bigger and angrier and sober. He punches the man and watches him go down hard. Spit blood. Wheeze pathetically “... the fuck off me haven’t seen the little faggot-”

Connor’s dangerously close to just losing it altogether. He kicks Mark hard in the ribs. He lets out a noise like a deflating balloon. “Listen to me, you piece of shit,” Connor shouts. “I  _ know  _ he came here. Tell me where he is or I’ll fucking kill you.”

Mark shakes his head. “Didn’t want him here.”

Connor stares. He’s disgusted. 

“Never shoulda come back,” he goes on. “Told him, I fucking  _ told  _ him if he ended up a fag…”

Connor kicks him again. Mark cries out. His nose is bleeding. Connor hauls this fucker to his feet and slams him against the wall a third time. 

“Where is he?” Connor shouts. 

“I d-don’t  _ know! _ ” Mark shakes his head. “Told him to-to leave, told him to get his faggot ass out of my  _ sight,  _ he’s  _ gone. _ ”

_ He’s gone.  _

Connor feels sick. 

Mark hurt him. He definitely hurt him. Mark’s fists are bruised and busted. He  _ definitely  _ hurt Evan. 

He shoves Mark to the ground. He searches the bedrooms. Nothing. Tears apart the closet. The other room. 

Nothing. 

Connor could scream. 

Mark’s struggling to his feet, cursing Connor out, saying he knows who Connor is, “you’re his little pansy fucking friend, with the makeup, you’re the one who-”

Connor doesn’t find out who he is. He kicks Mark down. Stomps angrily on his hand. Hears bone crunch and Mark scream and then Connor’s running, his heart is racing, Evan’s  _ gone.  _

He gropes for his phone. Calls Evan again. 

_ “I chime in with a, ‘haven’t you people ever heard of closing the goddamn door?’” _

That’s Evan’s ringtone. 

Fuck. 

Connor keeps letting it ring. 

He’s here he’s here he’s here. 

Connor follows the sound until it stops. Down a hall. Toward a staircase. 

He calls again. 

_ “I chime in with a, ‘haven’t you people ever heard of closing the goddamn door?’” _

Connor follows the noise. 

Evan’s sad getaway bag is sagging on the back steps. 

Connor rips it open. Clothes. Phone. 

Money. 

Not Evan. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

Damn it damn it  _ damn it.  _

Connor might cry. He’s fucked everything up he’s fucked up  _ everything  _ and Evan’s not here. He’s gone. 

He wouldn’t go anywhere without that fucking bag he’s dead he’s dead he’s dead and Connor’s gonna go upstairs and fucking  _ murder  _ Mark. 

He notices there’s a back door suddenly. At the bottom of the stairs. 

Connor stumbles toward the door. Shoves it open. It leads out into a cramped and damp alleyway, dark even though it’s still daylight. 

Fuck. 

Connor goes to head back into the apartment building when he spots it. 

A crumpled figure. 

Hidden from view by garbage bags. 

Connor throws himself down the alley. Shoves the garbage aside. 

It’s Evan. 

His body. 

He’s not moving and there’s so much blood. So much fucking blood. His face is all bruised up, he doesn’t look  _ human.  _ There’s blood in his hair. 

Connor lets out a sob. 

“No no don’t be dead please don’t be dead,” he says as he gropes for Evan’s wrist. 

There’s a pulse. 

Evan’s got a fucking  _ pulse.  _

Connor shakes his shoulder as gently as his shaking hands can manage. His knuckles are busted and bruised. 

Evan’s eye opens. The other is swollen shut. 

“You’re not my mom,” he slurs. 

“Evan thank god. We’re gonna get help, okay, I’m gonna get you out of here,” Connor says desperately. 

He doesn’t know where he gathers the strength but he hauls Evan up. To his feet. He can’t support himself and Connor worries about neck injuries and head trauma but he can’t think about that he needs to get them out of here  _ now.  _

He starts dragging Evan toward the parking lot. 

Evan mumbles “wait,” and then he throws up violently. 

He always pukes when he has a concussion. He told Connor that once. 

Connor lets him finish puking but then he keeps half-carrying Evan toward the car. 

Zoe looks white as a ghost when she sees them. “I was just about to call 911,” she says, and she sounds close to tears. “What happened?”

“His dad,” Connor says, and Zoe hurries to help pull Evan into the car. “We need to go. Now Zoe. He needs to go to a hospital  _ right now. _ ”

“His dad did this?”

“I fucking told you now  _ drive. _ ”

She’s driving off in seconds. Screaming she doesn’t know where the fuck the hospital around here is. 

Evan mumbles something. “Walnut… street. ‘M fine.”

“No you’re not,” Connor says desperately. He moves Evan so his head is in his lap. So the bumps in the road don’t make things worse. 

Evan closes his eyes. 

“Don’t you fucking dare die on me,” Connor says desperately. He shakes his shoulder. “You have to stay awake. You have to stay with me.”

“Tired,” Evan says. His eyes close again. 

“No.  _ No.  _ Do you hear me? You’re not allowed to die on me, okay? I love you I love you you can’t fucking die.”

Evan blinks slowly. “You love me?”

“Yes,” Connor sobs. “I love you, so you can’t die okay? I love you and you're not allowed to die. I  _ love _ you.”

“That’s…. probably a bad idea,” Evan says. And then he’s out. Unconscious and he won’t wake up again. 

And Connor is screaming and shaking him and the car stops. Someone is opening the door and gently pulling Connor out. Pulling Evan out. 

Putting him on a gurney. 

Connor’s knees give out. 

Zoe wraps her arms around him and they watch the doctors rush Evan inside. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! at the Disco  
> Chapter title from "Hum Hallelujah" by Fall Out Boy


	49. And When It All Goes to Hell, Will You Be Able to Tell Me Sorry With a Straight Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Evan's seventeenth birthday, and the waiting is the worst part.

Connor’s wrong about Evan going back to Chino, Heidi tells herself for the hundredth time. Obviously. He’s obviously wrong. 

Larry had offered to drive but she knew she’d go crazy if she was just sitting in the passenger seat, so here she is, her hands gripping the steering wheel, driving back to Orange County with no fucking clue where her kid is. 

Chino’s her only lead. 

The only lead. 

But he’s not… he’s not…

He knows that Mark’s violent. Evan knows. 

Evan’s afraid of him. 

He wouldn’t…

He just wouldn’t. He’s not…

He wouldn’t. 

_He refused to go to therapy,_ something in the back of Heidi’s mind reminds her. _His mom killed herself. There’s a family history of mental illness, not to mention everything he’s been through._

_You don’t know for sure that he didn’t go back to Chino._

_Back to his dad._

_He might_ want _to get hurt._

_He…_

Larry’s phone rings. He answers it without even looking to see who’s calling. “Hello?” His eyes go wide. He doesn’t say anything for a long time, then he grabs Heidi’s arm. “Pull over.”

Heidi blinks. “What?”

“Pull over,” Larry insists, and Heidi does as she’s told. 

Larry puts his phone on speaker and Heidi hears Zoe’s voice, young and scared. 

“... it’s bad, it’s really bad, he doesn’t even look like a person there’s so much blood and we got him to the hospital but they won’t tell us anything and Mom’s not answering her phone.”

“I need you to start from the beginning,” Larry says, clearly fighting to keep his voice calm. “I’ve got you on speaker, I’m with Heidi, tell us what happened.”

“We’re in Chino,” Zoe says desperately. “Connor was sure Evan would be here and he was right. He went back to his dad’s and his dad beat the _shit_ out of him. He’s… it’s really bad, it’s really, really bad.”

“You and Connor both went to Chino?” Larry asks, clearly surprised. 

“He was sure he’d be here,” Zoe says again. “And he was right.”

Heidi can’t breathe right. Her chest aches, her head is spinning, she’s not getting enough oxygen oh god oh god oh god he’s hurt Evan’s hurt and she’s hours away she can’t get to him she let him down-

“What’s the address of the hospital?” Larry demands. “Text me the address of the hospital.” He pauses. “Is Connor there? Is he okay?”

“He found him,” Zoe says, clearly crying. “He… he went to Evan’s dad’s apartment, he told me to stay in the car and call 911 if he wasn’t out in 15 minutes, he… I can’t do this by myself, Dad, Connor’s… he’s not good, he… it’s like he’s not here, he’s completely spaced out, I don’t know what to do, I can’t _do_ this.”

“We’ll be there as soon as we can,” Larry promises. “From where we are it’s… an hour and a half max, we will be there as soon as we can.”

“I can’t do this,” Zoe sobs quietly. “I don’t know what I’m doing, I don’t know how to help-”

“You’re there,” Heidi interrupts, her voice shaking. “You’re there, Connor’s not alone.” 

There’s silence on the end of the line for a moment. 

Zoe’s voice is broken and ragged when she finally speaks. “I’m so sorry, Heidi. I am so, so sorry.”

Heidi’s heart drops. 

Stops. 

Crumbles. 

Even through the phone speakers, she can tell what Zoe’s not saying from the tone of her voice. 

She doesn’t think Evan’s going to make it. 

She’s seen him, seen how bad it is, and she doesn’t think he’ll survive. 

This is Heidi’s fault. This is her fault, there’s no denying it. She yelled at Evan, blamed him for what happened, didn’t check on him before bed because she was so damn angry and…

She might have gotten him killed. 

Might have gotten her kid killed. 

Child Services won’t let her keep him. Not when she’s failed him so badly. They’ll take him away from her, she’s an unfit guardian, she’s failed him she’s failed him she’s failed. 

She’s failed. 

She’s failed Evan. 

He could die he could die he could already be dead she doesn’t know she doesn’t know she can’t get to him she can’t do anything she’s failed she’s failed she’s failed-

The driver’s side door opens. 

She’s vaguely aware that she’s been pulled into a hug, pulled out of the car, put into the passenger seat and she should be embarrassed, fucking humiliated by this, but all she can feel as Larry gets into the driver’s seat and starts the car is relief.

There’s no time to waste here. 

Heidi sobs in the passenger seat, sobs until she runs out of tears, but there’s comfort in knowing that they’re on their way to Evan. 

Larry’s got her back. 

* * *

Zoe doesn’t know what the fuck to do. 

She and Connor are in the waiting area. Waiting for an update. 

Connor is staring into space. Not talking or moving or doing anything. He’s just staring. 

There’s blood on his shirt. Evan’s blood. 

He doesn’t seem to notice. Or care. Or be doing _anything_ really. He's just sitting there staring.

“Connor,” she tries. 

He doesn’t respond or blink or anything. 

His knuckles are bruising. One hand has swollen up a lot. 

“What the fuck happened?” she whispers desperately. Her dad and Heidi are at least an hour and a half away. Her mom isn’t answering her phone. 

Zoe’s lost. She’s scared. Evan looked. Bad. Really fucking bad. He didn’t look like a person, he looked like.. meat. Beaten up and bloodied meat. 

Connor doesn’t react. He’s just. Staring into space. 

Evan might die. He could fucking die. The doctors who brought him in said something about internal bleeding. Asked them if either of them knew Evan’s blood type. 

They didn’t know. 

He could die. 

Connor’s staring into space like a fucking zombie. He’s not there. 

Zoe doesn’t know how to fix this. She doesn’t know how to fix anything. She doesn’t fix things. Things get fixed _for_ her. She’s grown up in a house where when things break, you call someone to repair it. She fought with her dad when she was in driver’s ed because he made her learn to change a tire. 

She looked at him like he was stupid and told him they had AAA. Why the hell would she ever need to do this herself? She just got her nails done. 

She can’t fix things. She never learned how. If she had a flat tire now she wouldn’t be able to change it. She’d call AAA. 

There’s no fucking AAA for _this._

In her panic, Zoe calls Sabrina. She’s desperate. She can’t do this by herself. She’s shocked when Sabrina answers. Even more shocked when she offers to send Sabrina the address and she doesn’t tell Zoe to fuck off. 

They’re friends. Sabrina and Evan. They’re friends. 

She gets up. Asks the nice lady behind the desk to ask the doctors to give them an update whenever they can. Asks if her brother could have an ice pack. He hurt his hand. 

“Does he need it looked at?”

Zoe shakes her head. Shrugs. “I dunno… he’s not talking.”

The nice lady gets up and follows Zoe back to see Connor. 

“You’re Connor right?” she says. 

He blinks without responding. 

“He’s probably in shock,” she tells Zoe. “I’ll be right back.”

A few minutes pass. She returns with an ice pack. Two juice boxes and some animal crackers. Two blankets. 

“Here you go sweetheart,” this nice woman says. She wraps a blanket around Connor’s shoulders. Gives Zoe her own blanket. A juice box. 

“Can I look at your hand, baby?” she asks Connor. 

He blinks again. 

His eyes focus a little. “I’m fine.”

“Well let me double-check, just in case hmm?”

He nods robotically. Hands over his busted hand. The lady looks at it. Bends the fingers experimentally. “Does that hurt, honey?”

Connor shakes his head. 

“Probably just bruised,” she surmises. Hands Connor an ice pack. “You two should drink the juice. It’ll help. And put the ice on your hand, baby, that’s right.” She nods at Zoe. “He’ll be alright.”

Connor’s staring off into space again. Zoe’s not so confident. 

“The police will want to talk to you both,” the lady says. She sits beside Zoe. “I’ll just wait with you, alright?”

Zoe nods gratefully. 

They sit. Wait. Connor stares into space. Drinks his juice when prompted. Otherwise he doesn’t move. 

Two uniformed officers appear at the door. 

The nice lady waves them over. Zoe wonders if she’s a nurse or something. 

The officers’ arrival seems to wake Connor back up. The cops aren’t especially kind. They keep asking Connor how he knew Evan would be at his dad’s. 

“I just. Had a feeling,” Connor answers time and again. 

He tells them more than he’s told Zoe. He went up to Evan’s dad’s apartment. Confronted him. Punched him, apparently. Looked through the place for Evan and left. Found Evan’s bag. Then found Evan. He was hidden behind some garbage. 

“I’m pretty sure it was his dad,” Connor whispers. “I’m positive. He put the trash there to… to make sure nobody would find him.”

The officers nod. Make notes. Call in something on their walkie talkies. They call Evan’s dad a suspect. 

Give a description. 

They thank Connor for his cooperation. 

Then they go. 

And Connor’s gone again. That vacant look in his eyes. 

“You _punched_ Evan’s dad?” Zoe whispers. 

He doesn’t respond. 

“You s-said he was v-violent. Dangerous. Why would you try to _fight_ him?”

Connor blinks and blinks again. Doesn’t answer. Just stares ahead. 

Zoe starts to cry again. “That was so stupid Connor. What if he’d hurt _you?_ ”

He doesn’t answer. Just stares and stares ahead.

* * *

Sabrina almost doesn’t answer the phone when she sees Zoe calling. 

She lets it ring for a while, trying to figure out what the fuck is going on. 

It’s the middle of the day on a Saturday. Chances are she’s not drunk or high.

Then again, who the fuck knows. 

Maybe it’s a booty call. 

That is absolutely not why she answers the call. Not even a little bit. 

“Zoe, hi.”

“Oh thank god,” Zoe says, and Sabrina’s immediately aware she’s been crying, that she’s freaking out. “You answered.”

“What do you want?” Sabrina asks. She wants it to come out tough or bored or something but mostly she thinks it just sounds… concerned. 

She doesn’t know what’s happening but something tells her it’s not good. 

“Evan’s in the hospital in Chino, and Connor’s not talking, and I don’t know what to do, I don’t know how to help, my mom isn’t answering her phone and my dad is at least an hour and a half away and I’m freaking out, can you get here?”

Sabrina blinks. 

That’s…

“What?”

“Evan’s in the hospital,” Zoe repeats tearfully, “because he went back to Chino and his dad beat the shit out of him, nearly killed him, he could still die, Connor found him, please Sabrina. Please?”

“You’re in Chino?” Sabrina asks, putting on some shoes, picking up her keys and her purse. “The hospital in Chino?”

“Yes,” Zoe says, sounding relieved. “I’ll text you the address.” 

With that, she ends the call, and Sabrina stares at her phone. 

She hadn’t even…

She hadn’t even agreed to come and Zoe just…

That’s fucking typical. She’s a spoiled princess who just expects people to drop everything and come running when she calls. 

Sabrina runs down the stairs, heads to the garage and gets into her car. 

Because of-fucking-course she does. 

She’ll drop everything and come running when Zoe calls, because she’s still in _fucking_ love with her. 

Once she’s on the highway, she starts having second thoughts. Considers getting off at the next exit and going the fuck home. 

Zoe called her a dyke in front of everyone. Refuses to acknowledge her in public. Has been ignoring her ever since she came out - no texts, no calls, no MySpace messages. Nothing. Total radio silence, acting like she doesn’t even fucking exist. 

And now she calls Sabrina for help? 

It’s bullshit. It’s fucking bullshit, and Sabrina deserves better than this. 

But she said that Evan could die. 

And she sounded so scared. 

And why else would she be in Chino? What the hell is going on?

Evan and Connor are _her_ friends. Zoe barely talks to her brother. Openly hates Evan. What is she even doing here?

When Sabrina gets to the hospital, she texts Zoe to let her know, and gets texted directions to where they’re waiting. She steadies herself as she’s walking there. 

She’s going to be calm, and collected, and she’s going to be fucking professional about this. She’ll check on Connor first, because if Evan’s hurt he must be freaking out, and then she’ll be polite to Zoe and not too fucking familiar because Zoe broke her heart and called her a dyke in front of the whole school and hasn’t talked to her in fucking weeks. 

All her resolve crumbles the minute she sees Zoe. She’s got a blanket around her shoulders. She looks pale and young and scared and Sabrina’s heart clenches painfully. 

She doesn’t know who moves first, her or Zoe, but she’s holding her in a tight hug before she even realizes what’s happening, and Zoe’s crying on her shoulder, sobbing hysterically. 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“What happened?” Sabrina asks helplessly.

“Evan ran off this morning,” Zoe says miserably. “He… he bought a bus ticket to Idaho so my dad and Heidi went off on a wild goose chase to catch up with the bus but he never got _on_ it. He came here instead and he…”

“He wanted to die,” says Connor from the waiting room seats. His face is dull and pale and Zoe seems surprised to hear him even speaking. “He knew his dad would hurt him. Could kill him. He did it on purpose.”

“No,” Zoe says, her eyes wide. “No, he didn’t, he wouldn’t…”

“His dad said he’d kill him if he turned out to be gay,” Connor continues, still staring into space. “We hooked up last night. And now he’s here.” He swallows hard. “If we hadn’t found him, he’d be dead. It still might be too late.”

“Oh god,” Sabrina whispers. She lets go of Zoe and sits next to Connor. “Connor, this is not your fault, okay? You are not responsible for Evan’s choices-”

Zoe’s shaking her head. “He wouldn’t just... No.”

“You barely know him,” Sabrina shoots back, and Zoe’s cheeks flush a deep pink. She turns back to Connor. “Connor. Connor, hey, look at me. It’s going to be okay.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I don’t,” Sabrina agrees. “But Evan needs us to stay hopeful, okay? We need to have hope and be strong for him. You can do this. You can be strong. Okay, Connor?”

Connor blinks a few times. Looks at her. “Yeah,” he manages to choke out. “Yeah, I can be strong.”

Sabrina pulls him into a hug. He smells… kind of terrible, honestly, like sweat and garbage, but that’s not important right now. He clings to her tightly. He’s shaking, bony shoulders trembling. 

Over his shoulder, Sabrina can see Zoe looking at them. She looks… hurt. 

Part of Sabrina is pleased at that, but it’s a small part. 

She hates seeing Zoe upset. Always has. 

Probably always will. 

She lets Connor go after a while and he sits back. Stares into space. He’s just… gone, like there’s nothing there, like he’s disappeared somewhere. 

Sabrina doesn’t blame him. Reality is not a fun place to be right now. 

Zoe sinks down in the seat on the other side of Sabrina. Looks at her a little desperately. “Connor talked to the police,” she says quietly. “He… he went after Evan’s dad, even though he _knew_ he was violent, he…”

“Connor loves Evan,” Sabrina says, equally quietly. “Anyone with eyes can see that. When someone you love is hurting, common sense flies out the window.”

Zoe’s face flashes with something Sabrina wishes she could understand. “You speaking from experience?” she asks, not unkindly. 

Sabrina blinks. “How can you ask me that?” 

Zoe seems to shrink in front of her. Wraps her arms around herself. The blanket’s fallen off her shoulders. 

Sabrina picks it up. Puts it over Zoe’s shoulders again. Wraps it around her tightly. 

She’s got no fucking common sense. 

None at all. 

Zoe blinks, her eyelashes wet. If she was wearing makeup, it’s long gone, but her face is clean, so clearly she’s washed it at some point. 

“I need to call my mom,” she says after a moment. “She wasn’t answering, but maybe… maybe she was sleeping or something.”

“It’s after midday,” Sabrina points out. 

Zoe blinks. “She’s been sleeping late a lot.”

Sabrina’s mom does the same when she’s been drinking. She decides not to mention that, seeing as Cynthia Murphy was very publicly in rehab this winter. 

“Have you had an update?” Sabrina asks. “About how Evan’s doing?”

Zoe shakes her head miserably. “Still no news.”

Sabrina stands up. “I’ll talk to them.”

While Zoe calls her mom again, Sabrina talks to the lady at the desk. She’s lovely and apologetic, but doesn’t have any news. Sabrina’s heart sinks. 

That’s… that’s not good. 

It’s really not good. 

She goes to the vending machine. They have Reese’s peanut butter cups, which are Zoe’s favorite. She gets three. 

Hands one to Zoe. Another one to Connor, even though she’s not sure he’ll eat it. Opens the last one herself, because some chocolate would help right now. 

Zoe stares at the peanut butter cups for a long moment, then back at Sabrina. 

“Don’t tell me you’re on a fucking diet,” Sabrina says, sharper than she intends to. 

Zoe just blinks. “Thank you,” she says, her voice quiet. “I… thank you for being here.”

Sabrina bites her lip. Juts her chin out defiantly. “Evan is my friend. So is Connor.”

Zoe looks hurt. “I know. I know that’s why you’re here, that’s the only reason you’re-”

“You asked me to,” Sabrina interrupts. “I came because _you_ asked me to. Because I’m a fucking idiot when it comes to you. And you called me because you know that. You know that I love you.”

It’s the first time she’s said it out loud to Zoe. 

Zoe’s eyes widen. “You love me?”

Sabrina sighs. “Yeah. It’s really _fucking_ inconvenient.”

* * *

Sabrina loves her. 

She loves Zoe. 

_Loves_ her. 

Zoe feels her heart speed up. She wants to throw her arms around Sabrina, cry and cry and tell her how much she loves her. 

It feels wrong right now. Very wrong. 

Like getting engaged at a funeral. Fucking in a church. 

Instead Zoe just looks at her feet. She wore flip flops here. 

There’s a small amount of something reddish-brown flecked on her toes. 

Oh god, it’s blood. 

It’s _blood._

Zoe can’t she can’t she _can’t_. She takes off for the bathroom. Wads up a paper towel and gets it wet and adds soap and scrubs her foot. 

She’s crying. 

This is wrong and she can’t fix it she hates hospitals hates them. 

Sabrina appears in the door. 

“You shouldn’t leave _Connor,_ ” Zoe snaps. 

“He told me to go,” Sabrina says. Her eyes are big. 

Zoe feels pissed that he’ll talk to Sabrina but not to her. 

“I hate hospitals,” Zoe says suddenly. “It reminds me of… of when Connor… when I was in eighth grade.”

Sabrina nods. 

Comes closer. Takes the paper towel out of Zoe’s hands. Throws it out and gives her a dry one to dry off her foot. 

Zoe looks at her hard. When she stands up, she stares Sabrina down, “I love you too.”

Sabrina’s mouth drops open. “You do?”

“I do,” Zoe says. “I look at you and it’s like… like I know everything will be okay. You make me… you make me feel like the world isn’t falling apart.”

Sabrina grabs her. Kisses her hard. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear that,” she says softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Zoe whispers. Kisses her again. “I’m so sorry I’ve been so…”

Sabrina holds her close. Kisses her cheek. “It’s okay,” Sabrina says. “It’s okay. You were scared. You were-”

“I _am_ scared,” Zoe corrects her. “I’ve seen how bad things have been for you, for my stupid brother… I love you but. That doesn’t change… everything,” Zoe says. 

Sabrina lets her go. She looks so sad. Her beautiful face crumbles. “What are you saying?”

Zoe shakes her head. “I can’t… I can’t just. Throw everything away. I love you but…”

“But you won’t be with me,” Sabrina says, her voice cold. 

“I _can’t_ ,” Zoe says. “Look what happened to Evan!”

“Evan’s dad is-”

“Evan’s dad is just like all of the assholes at school. All the moms in Newport. You heard what my mom called Connor at cotillion. I can’t just… I can’t risk that.”

She thinks about Jared calling her a dyke the night they slept together. Thinks about his cocky “prove it.” Thinks about all of the ways that she _couldn’t._

“Then how can you say you _love_ me?” Sabrina sounds disgusted. 

“I do! I love you, but Sabrina, come on… be realistic.”

“I am,” Sabrina says. Her voice is hard. Angry. “I should have known better. You’re as bad as the people at school. You’re a coward.”

“I’m not!” Zoe insists. “We can… if we don’t tell people…”

“I’m not interested in being your dirty little secret so you can still play a homophobe at school,” Sabrina says, sounding so defeated. 

She wipes her eyes. 

“Sabrina, please. Don’t go…”

“I’m going to check on Connor,” she says, angrier still. “At least he doesn’t hide who he really is just so that some Neanderthals at school will still want to fuck him.”

She storms off. 

Zoe keeps crying. 

She doesn’t understand. Sabrina doesn’t understand. She can’t just… opt-out of society. She can’t just decide to give it all up. And most of that she knows her… perceived fuckability. 

It’s the only reason Jared will still sell to her. 

It’s the only reason Madison still talks to her. Zoe is legacy, sure, but she’s also accessible. She’s an option to the boys who make all of the damn rules. 

If she opts out of that….

Then nobody would look at her anymore. 

_Jared wouldn’t ever try to touch you again,_ her brain tells her but Zoe can’t go down that line of thinking. 

Zoe stays in the bathroom until she stops crying. She goes and sits on Connor’s other side when she gets back. Sabrina is holding his hand limply. 

Zoe stares at the television. It’s playing the news. 

She waits and watches and finally, at long last, Zoe sees her dad and Heidi come bursting through the doors. They both look scared and frantic and pale. 

But Zoe feels relieved. They will take care of this. She doesn’t have to fix it. 

* * *

Heidi heads straight for the front desk the minute she arrives at the hospital.

“Evan Hansen,” she chokes out. “Is he okay? He’s my… I’m his legal guardian, I…”

She cannot lose it again now. She absolutely cannot. 

The woman behind the front desk looks so sad when she hears his name. “We still don’t have an update, I am so sorry,” she says, and she looks genuinely apologetic. “The police have been here. Taken a statement from his friend who found him.” 

“Is there anything you can tell me?” Heidi pleads. “Anything?”

The woman goes pale. Opens her mouth to speak when there’s a doctor coming out in blood-covered scrubs. He looks exhausted. He comes over to the front desk. “Can I speak with the people who came in with Evan Hansen?”

“I’m his legal guardian,” Heidi says immediately. “Is he okay?”

The doctor hesitates. “We need to transfer him,” he says, his voice tight. “We’ve stabilized him the best we can but he needs a craniotomy and that’s not something we can do here.” He looks at Heidi, his face horribly sad. “There’s a helicopter on the way. The kids who brought him in said he lives in Newport Beach, we can get him to the hospital there. They have some of the best surgeons in the state.”

Heidi’s brain catches on the unfamiliar word. “Craniotomy?”

“Brain surgery,” the doctor says. 

Oh god. 

Oh god oh god oh god. 

The doctor’s pager goes off, and he looks at it. “The chopper is here, we’re moving him now. It won’t take long to get him there and they’ll start operating straight away. We’re doing everything we can for your son, I promise.”

With that, he’s sprinting back through the doors, and Heidi has to hang on to the desk so she doesn’t faint. Her knees are shaking. She feels like she’s going to be sick. 

“What’s going on?” Connor demands. He’s at her side, pale as a sheet. “What’s happening?”

“They’re transferring him to Memorial Hospital in Newport,” says the woman behind the counter, clearly reading something off her screen. “Loading him into the helicopter now.”

“Helicopter?” Connor asks, his voice thin.

“Brain surgery,” Heidi says weakly. “He needs _brain surgery_ , he…”

She can’t. 

She can’t even think, she can’t make sense of any of this, it’s all wrong this is wrong this can’t be happening how did she let this happen?

Larry seems to be jumping into action. He’s barking instructions at Zoe and… someone, Heidi doesn’t even know who, and Connor’s grabbing onto Heidi’s arm and holding tight, and soon they’re back in the car and driving back to Newport. 

No one talks the whole ride.

Larry is definitely speeding. In any other situation, she’d give him hell for it. 

Right now she just wishes he’d drive faster. Wishes they were already there. 

She’s out of the car the minute Larry’s parked, maybe before. Running to the information desk and demanding information. 

They live in fucking Newport Beach. This hospital is used to people wanting answers quickly, used to people demanding information, used to be people being entitled rich assholes and normally Heidi hates that but today she doesn’t fucking care. 

It doesn’t take long for someone to track down a doctor who sits her down and calmly, clinically tells her the extent of Evan’s injuries. 

Broken ribs. Punctured lung. Kidney laceration. 

Swelling in the brain from head trauma. 

They’re in the middle of a craniotomy now. 

The doctor is professional and polite, but she’s not pulling any punches, which Heidi wants to appreciate. Normally would appreciate. But right now it’s just… 

Breaking her heart. 

It breaks her heart to hear them talk about Evan like this. 

“Is he going to be okay?” Heidi hears herself ask desperately. 

The doctor hesitates. “We can’t be certain of anything right now,” she says apologetically. “We have an excellent surgical team here and we’re doing the best that we can, but I’m not going to lie to you. It’s not looking good.”

Connor takes in a sharp breath. 

Heidi didn’t even realize he was here, sitting next to Larry, his face white, his hands shaking. 

“What do you mean?” Connor asks, and his voice is shaking too. 

“Given the injuries he sustained, especially the head trauma, we don’t know what to expect,” the doctor says calmly. “We could be looking at long term injuries. Deficits.”

“Deficits?” Connor repeats, and he’s almost gray now, he’s so pale. 

“Brain damage,” the doctor clarifies. “We won’t know the extent until well after the surgery is completed.” She pauses. “And there is a possibility he won’t survive the surgery. I am so sorry.”

“No,” Connor blurts out, and he’s trembling now, shaking like a leaf, and Larry puts an arm around him. “No, that’s… no, he can’t… he can’t die, I…”

“We are doing everything we can,” the doctor says, and she’s sympathetic but she’s firm. “Absolutely everything. I just want to be honest. Want you to be prepared for the worst-case scenario.”

* * *

Fuck. 

Fuck fuck. 

It’s bad. It’s really fucking bad. 

Connor can’t do this. He can’t just _sit_ here he can’t just… 

Connor has no idea where his car is, he realizes with a start. 

He doesn’t care. He’ll steal one if he has to. He is not fucking sitting here and doing nothing he is going to back to fucking Chino and kill Evan’s dad for laying a hand on him he’s going to go finish the job he’s…

His dad puts his hand on Connor’s shoulder. Nods toward Heidi who has dissolved into tears again. She looks wrecked. Utterly wrecked. 

Connor thinks back to Evan’s note. 

He wouldn’t want Heidi left alone. 

Fuck. 

So Connor shakily climbs to his feet. Moves to sit beside Heidi. Puts his arm around her. 

She cries into his shoulder for a long time. Connor lets her. Doesn’t move or try to shush her to say anything to try to make it better. 

Sabrina said Evan needed him to be hopeful. To be strong. 

He’s trying. He’s really fucking trying but it’s so hard. It’s too hard not to break not to quit not to give up. 

Evan’s going to die. 

Connor tells himself that. Tries to get used to the idea. 

He’s going to die. 

He won’t be in school anymore. Won’t be waiting at the end of the driveway. Won’t tell Connor fun facts about blueberries or tease Connor about his emo tendencies. 

Won’t kiss him again. 

Won’t live to be seventeen. 

He’s going to die. 

The knowledge doesn’t make it easier. 

It just breaks Connor more. Into smaller pieces. 

He didn’t get to say goodbye. Not last night. Not today. Not really. 

If he had… 

It wouldn’t make any fucking difference anyway. Wouldn’t save him. 

Connor can’t save him. 

He can only sit. 

Until his back is stiff and his butt goes numb. Until the sun sets and his dad hands him a bottle of water and tells him to drink it. 

Until a doctor finally appears after five hours to say that Evan survived the surgery. They repaired his lung and kidney. Got the brain swelling to go down significantly. Stabilized his broken ribs. 

They don’t know yet how he’ll be when he wakes up. 

If. 

If he wakes up. 

Deficits. They talk about potential deficits. Brain damage. Loss of speech, cognition. 

Evan’s the smartest person Connor knows. It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair. 

“Can I see him?” Connor manages to ask. 

The doctor explains that he’s still unconscious. Being moved to the ICU. That typically they only allow in immediate family. 

Heidi gathers her things. She’s led back right away. 

She doesn’t fight to say Connor is family. 

Because he isn’t. Not really. 

Connor’s legs give out under him. His dad has to struggle to catch him. Stop him from hurting himself by falling. He can’t stay standing. He can’t stay up. He can’t breathe. 

It’s not fair. 

It’s not fucking _fair._

“I know,” his dad says. “I know. It’s okay. Let’s get you home. You have to be exhausted.”

“No, no, I need to stay… I have to stay I can’t leave him I can’t leave him I can’t….”

His dad has to call a cab. He says he wants to make sure Heidi has her car when she’s ready to come home. He also practically has to carry Connor out of the hospital waiting room because he’s a fucking wreck. He refuses to leave. He won’t go, he won’t, but his dad makes him anyway. 

When they get home, his dad orders Connor to go to bed. 

Connor falls asleep but doesn’t know how. He remembers tossing and turning, remembers crying and crying more. Remembers feeling sick and exhausted but being terrified to shut his eyes. 

Connor wakes up in the middle of the night. 

He’s going to go to the hospital and sneak in. He has to see Evan. He has to see him, he needs to make sure he’s not alone, he needs to see Evan immediately. He’ll steal his dad’s car if he has to. He’s going to-

His dad is asleep in a sleeping bag by Connor’s door. Connor sees him the moment he opens the door. 

Damn it. 

Knows him too well. 

Knew Connor would try to escape to go back the second he woke up again. 

He still wants to see Evan but he has no way of getting there without waking his dad. And his dad will never let him go. 

Out of ideas, Connor gives up. Grabs a blanket and lays down on the floor next to Larry, on the other side of the door. Surrenders to the fact that he can’t do anything. 

It reminds him a little bit of Boy Scout camp when he was small. Laying on the ground beside his dad. 

His dad snores. His one nostril whistles because he broke his nose in college. 

His dad opens his eyes suddenly. “Jesus, Connor, you scared the shit out of me,” his dad says. 

“Did he make it through the night?” Connor asks, turning toward him. 

“He did,” his dad answers. 

“Okay.”

Connor closes his eyes. 

Lets himself sleep. 

* * *

It’s a nice room, for a hospital room. 

This is a good hospital. Lots of funding. Top of the line equipment, trained surgeons. 

It’s the best place for Evan to be right now. 

The doctors tell Heidi he’s heavily sedated, that he’s not likely to wake up for a while. Possibly not even for another twenty-four hours. 

That they’ll bring the sedation down slowly to allow him a chance to wake up. To see if he can. But what’s most important right now is just time to heal after everything he’s been through. 

Brain surgery. 

He had brain surgery. 

They warn her that seeing him is going to be a shock. To prepare herself.

And she tries, she really does, but there’s only so much she can do. 

When she sees him, she’s not prepared at all. 

There’s so much bruising that he barely looks human. The skin that isn’t bruised is pale, too pale, and he looks so young. 

So small. 

He’s just a kid he’s just a kid this isn’t fair. 

This isn’t fair. 

The doctors try to tell her she should go home and get some rest but she refuses to go anywhere. Refuses to move. She pulls an armchair close to his bed and curls up in it. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” she tells him fiercely. “Okay, sweetheart? I’m staying right here. I’m not leaving. I love you.”

The words slip out naturally. 

She’s never said them out loud before. Not to Evan. 

She hadn’t wanted to scare him. Hadn’t wanted him to think it was weird or embarrassing. 

Now she doesn’t care. 

She is going to tell this kid that she loves him at every chance she gets the minute he wakes up. 

It might not be long, she knows. It kills her, but they might not let her keep him. Not after this. 

Not after this. 

Evan’s social worker arrives mid-afternoon. She’s not allowed in to see Evan, so Heidi has to leave him to speak with her once she’s finished speaking with the doctor about his injuries. 

Heidi’s never felt so ashamed in her life. 

“He left a note,” she tells the social worker quietly. “Saying that he was leaving, he…” She swallows hard. “He had a getaway bag packed to run away. His best friend found it and told me about it, so we’d… talked about it. Evan didn’t… he didn’t want to go into foster care again. If anything went wrong and he couldn’t stay with me anymore, he didn’t want that.” Heidi’s trying desperately not to cry. “I didn’t take the bag away from him, I… we talked about it and I told him he didn’t have to get rid of it, but that running off would be stupid. And that I never… I would never tell him to leave. I’d never change my mind, I would do everything I could to keep him…”

She can’t continue. 

She desperately doesn’t want to lose it in front of this social worker but she’s so tired and she’s so, so, so scared. 

The social worker’s face is pale. She looks genuinely upset by the photos she’s seeing of Evan’s injuries, the paperwork in front of her. She sighs. 

“After what happened at school on Friday,” she begins carefully, “and the conversation we had about his probation, I can understand why he might take off. I can absolutely understand why he’d be scared.” She nods. “Did you know he was going back to his dad?”

Heidi shakes her head. “That wasn’t his plan,” she says helplessly. “He told me he had enough money, that he’d get out of state. Said something about Idaho.”

“Why Idaho?” the social worker asks. 

Heidi thinks back to what Evan said. “Why not?” she offers weakly. She runs her hand through her hair. “He bought a ticket. He just never got on the bus.” She laughs a little. “Evan’s too smart for his own good sometimes, he…” 

“It was a diversion,” the social worker sums up. “He didn’t want you to know where he was really going.”

“Yeah,” Heidi manages to choke out. “He didn’t.”

The social worker looks devastated. Puts down her clipboard. Looks Heidi in the eye. 

“I’m going to be frank with you,” she says quietly. “This isn’t good. Evan being hurt this badly under your care? It doesn’t look good.”

Heidi’s heart stops. “Are you saying you’re taking him away from me?”

“Not this very second,” she continues hesitantly. “Not until we know the extent of the damage.” She looks so sad. “There’ll be an investigation, at the very least. We’ll need to take a range of things into consideration.”

“Things like what?” Heidi asks. 

“If there’s permanent damage,” the social worker says quietly, “the level of care required will change drastically. Even if there’s not, he’s going to be in pretty bad shape for a while. This won’t be a quick recovery.” She pauses. “We’ll need to be sure that you can give him the care he needs. Need to be sure that being with you is what’s best for him.”

“I’ll take care of him,” Heidi says firmly. “No matter how bad the damage is, no matter what happens, I’m not willingly letting him go. I am in this for the long haul.”

“I know you are,” says the social worker. “But we need to be sure that Evan’s being properly cared for.”

“The way you did when you left him with his dad for five years?” 

The social worker flinches. “When it’s a biological parent, things are done differently.”

“His biological parent nearly killed him,” Heidi spits out. She feels like she could scream. “Evan could still die, because his biological dad beat him so badly he needed brain surgery.”

“Evan’s father is in police custody-”

“You need to promise me,” Heidi interrupts, her voice hard. “You need to promise me that if you take Evan away from me, he does not go back to Mark. He doesn’t go anywhere near Mark, Mark never comes near him ever again.”

“Ms. Herzberg-”

“You say that you care about what’s best for Evan,” Heidi spits out. “That you might take him away from me to keep him safe, but that things are _done differently_ for biological parents. You need to promise me that Mark will never go near him again.”

“He won’t,” the social worker says, her voice strong. “He won’t. I promise.”

Heidi feels her eyes fill with tears.

“I don’t want to lose him,” she confesses quietly. “I love that kid more than anything. More than I ever thought I would. If I could switch places with him right now, take all of that pain onto myself to spare him, I would. Without even thinking twice.”

“Nothing’s set in stone,” says the social worker, not unkindly. “I just think it’s important to be transparent with you. About what might happen next.”

* * *

On Sunday afternoon, while Connor is in the shower, Larry searches his bedroom for drugs. 

He is probably being paranoid, but he searches anyway. Connor has been staring ahead vacantly all day. He flinches every time the phone rings. But mostly he just stares ahead with this vacant, dead-eyed expression. 

The only times he seems animated are during his hourly pleas to go and see Evan. 

Larry feels for him. He really does. Connor’s clearly head over heels for Evan. He’s scared out of his mind for the kid. So is Larry. And Connor behaved stupidly and recklessly and deliberately disobeyed Larry’s order that he stay home and let the adults handle it. 

And he probably saved Evan’s life. 

He wants to see him. He wants to see his friend. 

But Larry can’t let him. The hospital’s only letting Heidi in right now, and Larry can’t be convinced that seeing Evan in a hospital bed will be good for his son. 

His son who has chronic and documented emotional problems. 

Which is why Larry searches his room for drugs while Connor showers. He’s relieved when he finds nothing. 

Connor emerges from the bathroom with wet hair. He’s fully dressed. 

Larry can’t remember when he suddenly stopped wandering around in towels. Not that Larry encouraged that, but the kids spent a lot of time in swimsuits when they were little and it took Connor some convincing around the time he hit puberty to put a damn shirt on. 

Now Larry hasn’t seen him without a shirt in. Years possibly. It hurts him to know his kid is that uncomfortable in his body. In his own home. 

“Did I pass inspection?” Connor mumbles. 

Larry sighs and looks at him. 

His face seems especially sunken today. With his hair wet and hanging around his face, he looks pale and fragile and very breakable. Connor has a smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks and they stand out in sharp contrast against the paleness of his skin. 

He looks like a ghost. 

Larry hates it. 

He’s got on this blue hoodie that has to be two sizes too big. The sleeves hang over his hands. Larry notices a Hollister logo on the chest. 

Connor has never willingly worn anything from that store. Lord knows Larry has heard enough arguments about it between Connor and Cynthia. Connor has been very vocal about his hatred of the place. 

Connor crosses his arms over his middle. “He left it in my car last week,” Connor says defensively. “I just. I’ll wash it and give it back.”

Larry nods. “Okay.”

Connor hunches his shoulders awkwardly. He moves to sit down on his bed. Shivers a little. 

“You know it’s okay that you’re upset,” Larry says stupidly. He doesn’t have anything better planned. “You’re allowed to be as… angry or sad or… if you need to scream or cry or…”

“No thanks,” Connor says dully. He lays down on his bed. Curls on his side. 

“I can get your mom,” Larry offers desperately. When he was little, Connor always wanted Cynthia. For everything. Booboos and tummy aches and hurt feelings? All of that could only be solved by mom. And he knows that things have been tense between Connor and Cynthia but… if his kid needs his mom, Larry will get her for him. He will do whatever Connor needs. 

Connor sighs. “Don’t. I’m okay. Just… just want to sleep.” 

“Okay bud.” 

But Larry can’t actually bring himself to leave. He settles himself in the chair beside Connor’s desk and just watches. 

Watches the way Connor breathes. How his sharp shoulder blades move slightly as he does. 

Larry can tell he isn’t sleeping. 

He gets up. Sits on the edge of the bed again. Rests his hand on Connor’s arm. 

It finally happens then. 

First a soft sniffle. 

Then his shoulders shake. 

Larry just stays put. Stays right there, so Connor knows where he is if he needs him. Connor cries for a long long time. Cries so hard he gives himself the hiccups. 

Larry gets up to get him a glass of water. 

Connor sits up. Stares at him through red eyes. 

“Aren’t you going to t-tell me to go wash my face?”

His voice sounds so damn young. It breaks Larry’s heart. 

“It’s just us, bud. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He settles his hands briefly on his kid’s shoulders. “There’s no shame in feeling the way you’re feeling. Okay? No shame in it at all.”

* * *

Zoe texts her updates on Evan. 

They’re short. Not exactly in-depth. 

Evan’s not awake yet. He survived the surgery. They don’t know yet if he has any brain damage. 

She doesn’t mention Connor. 

Doesn’t mention their conversation yesterday. 

It’s just… facts. 

Sabrina can’t tell if she appreciates it or hates it. 

She thinks it’s both. 

She hasn't slept well, not since yesterday’s insanity. It all doesn’t seem real, doesn’t seem fair. Sabrina thinks about the look on Connor’s face. How he’d just been dead behind the eyes. 

Thinks about how Evan could have died. 

Could still die. 

It makes her feel sick to her stomach. Terrifies her. 

It’s not fair. 

Alana’s texting a lot. Saying she hasn’t heard from Connor or Evan, that she’s been trying to get the full story on the fight with Brian and Chad. 

It seems so long ago. 

A whole lifetime ago. 

Who the fuck cares about assholes like Brian when Evan could die?

Could be dead. 

He could be dead and Sabrina wouldn’t know yet. One of her closest friends could already be dead, she just hasn’t been told yet because when it comes down to it, she’s not high on the list of important people to tell. 

That…

It breaks her heart. 

Around four, the doorbell rings. Sabrina’s parents are out so she ignores it.

It keeps ringing and ringing and ringing until finally, she drags herself downstairs and answers it. 

It’s Alana. 

“Answer your phone,” she says immediately, her eyes wide and terrified. “Evan and Connor aren’t answering my texts and now you? What’s going on? Has everyone collectively decided that they hate me-”

“Evan’s in the hospital.”

Alana’s face falls. “What?”

“He went back to Chino,” Sabrina says, her voice almost unrecognizable to her own ears. “To his dad’s. And he… his dad hurt him really badly. He had to have brain surgery.”

Alana flinches. Shakes her head. “That’s not funny.”

“It’s not a joke-”

“If you guys don’t want to hang out with me anymore, you don’t have to make up some story-”

“It’s not a joke,” Sabrina says firmly. “Connor and Zoe found him. Zoe called me, I drove to Chino and…” She swallows hard. “I didn’t see Evan but I saw Connor and he was covered in blood. Evan’s blood. He… it’s bad. It’s really fucking bad, he might not make it.”

Alana’s shaking a little. 

“Are you serious? He… he might not make it?” 

Sabrina shakes her head. “Zoe’s keeping me updated, but… it’s bad.”

“Oh god,” Alana whispers. She sounds horrified. “Is Connor okay?”

“Of course he’s not,” Sabrina says helplessly. “He’s a fucking mess. Yesterday when it happened he was just… it was like he wasn’t there, it was like he’d stopped existing, he…” She feels her eyes sting. “This is really fucking bad and I don’t know what to do, his dad said I should give him some space but I just…” She sniffs. “Normally I’d just go over anyway but I can’t because if I see Zoe I’m going to lose my mind.”

Alana’s eyes widen. “What happened?”

“She said she loved me,” Sabrina admits, wiping her face. “She said she loved me but she couldn’t be with me because she’s too afraid of what people would say and I hate it, I fucking hate it, but Evan’s dad beat the shit out of him because he’s a homophobic asshole, he… Connor told me Evan’s dad told Evan he’d kill him if he ended up gay and that’s why he… he…”

Alana looks utterly horrified. “Wait, Evan… what? I thought he was-”

“He and Connor hooked up on Friday night,” Sabrina tells her miserably. “And Evan freaked out the next morning and went back to Chino to see his dad and his dad beat him so badly he needed _brain surgery_. And Connor blames himself.”

“Evan and Connor hooked up?”

“This has been a really fucking dramatic weekend,” Sabrina almost laughs. “It’s… it is the most fucking stupidly dramatic weekend and I don’t even know how to handle it.”

Alana does something unexpected. 

She pulls Sabrina into a bone-crushing hug and holds her for a long time. 

Alana isn’t a touchy-feely person. She never has been. Sabrina’s known her for a long time and physical affection is not one of Alana’s go-tos. She’s just not a huge fan. 

But Sabrina needs this right now, and Alana seems to know. 

It’s comforting to know that after all that time, after everything that’s happened, her childhood best friend still knows what she needs. 

Alana takes charge, like Alana tends to do. “We need gelato,” she says decisively. “Come on, I’ll drive.”

Sabrina blinks. “Driving freaks you out.”

Alana rolls her eyes. Gestures to her car from where they’re still standing in the doorway. “How do you think I got here, Sabrina?”

Sabrina frowns. “I can drive if you want. I know you got your license finally, but you said-”

“I can put away my concerns about the environment temporarily,” she interrupts. “To get you some gelato. Come on.”

Alana is a very nervous driver. 

It does not come naturally to her, and she focuses very strongly on the rules. 

Namely, on the people around her breaking them. 

She’s worked herself into a near panic by the time they get to the gelateria, but she’s wearing this look of grim determination. 

It’s nice to know she’ll do this for Sabrina. She’ll go out of her comfort zone to help her. 

Fuck. Why couldn’t it have been _Alana_ Sabrina fell in love with?

Once they get their gelato, Alana suggests they go to her parents’ beach house. “I have the first season of The L Word on DVD.”

“The what?”

Alana grins. “Okay, now we _have_ to go.”

It’s a nice afternoon, and while it doesn’t fix anything, it at least helps take her mind off things. The show’s pretty good, actually, and they both agree that Shane is extremely attractive. 

It doesn’t fix anything, but it’s a good distraction. 

“Be gentle with Connor tomorrow, okay?” Sabrina tells Alana as she’s driving her home later. 

“He’s going to be at school?”

“Zoe just texted me to say their dad insisted on a normal routine,” Sabrina explains. “So… that means school, I guess.” She frowns. “God. I hope he’s okay.”

“We’ll protect him,” Alana says fiercely. “From the vultures. We’ll protect him.”

Sabrina helplessly thinks that that’s all they can really do.

* * *

Connor’s not coping. 

That’s what his fucking therapist says. 

That he’s not _coping._

Connor doesn’t want to be going to see his fucking therapist. He doesn’t want to be going to school or going anywhere but the hospital. 

His dad says he needs to. Needs to stick to a routine. Try to keep things as normal as possible. 

Heidi and the doctors say Evan’s as good as can be expected. He’s woken up, but they’re keeping him pretty sedated so he can rest and heal. He had _brain surgery._

Brain surgery. Because his brain swelled. Because his dad almost _killed_ him. 

He woke up for a little while this afternoon and Connor wasn’t there. He wasn’t there. He was at fucking _school._

Which is a nightmare. 

Everyone is talking. Everyone is carrying on about how Evan’s been expelled… how Brian and Chad and Jared and Tommy and Madison are all suspended. 

To make matters worse. Or at least stupider. 

It’s Evan’s fucking birthday today. 

He’s seventeen now. Seventeen. 

And he’s unconscious in a hospital bed. 

He’s hurt. He nearly died. They still don’t know how bad it’ll be. If he’ll have deficits.

That’s how the doctors phrased it. 

“Deficits.” 

Connor can’t cope with that. That’s what he told his fucking therapist. He can’t cope. There is no such thing as coping. No such thing as dealing with this, no such thing as normal. 

There’s no normal. 

Evan’s hurt. 

He went to his dad’s. 

He went there on _purpose_. 

Connor knows why. He knows he knows he knows he knows. 

Evan went there to die. 

And Connor can’t cope with that. He can’t. 

He cannot deal with that, he can’t cope with that. 

He’s thrown up more times than he’s willing to admit the last few days. Can’t eat. 

Can’t sleep. Can’t cope. 

He can’t. 

He can’t. 

Zoe’s been… weird. 

She stuck by his side at school today. Sat with him at lunch, even though Alana and Sabrina sit with him now. 

She’s being so weird and Connor can’t even bring himself to yell at her to knock it off. If she hadn’t come with… if they hadn’t been able to get Evan to the hospital…

Connor can’t let himself go down that road. 

He can’t do fucking anything. 

He bought Evan a fucking stupid birthday present. A new skateboard, a book, and this dumb stuffed animal monkey with long arms you can velcro. Connor saw it in the window of a toy store at the mall and bought it immediately, thinking about Evan's toy Alexander... He was going to take Evan to Starbucks and buy him a drink and a cinnamon roll and give him the dumb stupid present he got him and make a big show of eating something because it’s been hard to do since his note came out…

It’s all ruined. 

_Connor_ ruined it. 

Evan could have died. 

Might not be okay. 

Might never… 

Connor can’t take it.

He never should have kissed him. Or gotten detention at school. Or fallen asleep in the pool house. This is his fault.

That night, Zoe invites him into her room to watch _Mean Girls_ because it is stupidly Connor’s favorite movie. He can’t focus on it. He wants to go to the fucking hospital but he’s not fucking family. 

Heidi is still beside herself. Even if he recovers, custody might not be easy. He ran away on her watch. He got hurt under her care. She’s been freaking out a lot on the phone to Connor’s dad that they might take Evan away from her. Connor’s not sure if he wants her to lose Evan. 

Connor tries not to hate her. He knows none of this is Heidi’s fault. Not really. 

But maybe if she had just _believed_ him. If she had just listened to Evan and not accused him of being stupid and reckless… 

But then again, Connor scared the shit out of him by kissing him and everything, so it’s still his fault more than hers. 

Connor sits next to Zoe on her bed, both of them leaned back against the headboard. There are no fucking rules anymore, so they share a joint with the door closed and the window cracked. Connor gets stoned because he has nothing better to do. 

“So you’re the one who’s been stealing my weed?” Connor says, exhaling. 

“Yeah.” 

Connor shakes his head. “I fucking. Blamed the pool boy.” 

Zoe lets out a short laugh. 

“You and Sabrina work your shit out?” Connor asks as Cady Heron tells Aaron Samuels that it is October third. 

Zoe shrugs. “She wants us to be… like. A thing. Publicly.” 

Connor nods. He can’t blame her for not wanting that after all of the shit that’s been happening lately. 

Zoe takes a hit off of the joint. Holds the smoke in for a long time. Exhales. “You want something to eat?” She says. “You didn’t eat anything at dinner.”

Connor shrugs. He’s pretty stoned but even now he can’t imagine actually eating. 

“I’m getting ice cream from downstairs,” She says firmly. “You can let it melt and like. Slurp it.” 

Fuck. 

She’s being so fucking nice. 

Zoe gets up. 

Sprays herself down with some fucking smelly ass Aero perfume to cover the weed scent. Heads out into the hall. 

Connor stretches slightly. His head is sort of pleasantly fuzzy but it doesn’t change the fact that he almost got his best friend killed because he couldn’t keep his fucking hands to himself. 

It’s not acceptable. 

Connor spies the corner of a plastic baggie sticking out of Zoe’s jewelry box in front of her mirror. 

He’s known for a while that his sister has a stash. Tried to talk to her about it, even. She taunted him with it, but at the time she’d had the stash physically on her. And he worried she had more hidden at home.

But Connor hadn’t really looked. 

He gets to his feet. 

Opens up the jewelry box. Inside is one of Jared’s signature baggies. He always puts his shit in those compostable zipper bags that are made out of, like, seaweed or some shit. Connor knows it's because that is what his mom buys at Whole Foods or whatever. 

There’s a small assortment of pills. Connor stares at them for a long moment. 

Oxy usually has an OC on it. For oxycodone. The back’s normally the dosage. She’s got a few twenties, a few forties. One eighty. 

Even Connor rarely fucked around with anything over forty. At least not at once. 

There’s a few other things. Xanax. What might be a Klonopin. Adderall. 

The fuck is Zoe taking Adderall for? She doesn’t even try at school. What does she need to focus on?

Connor hears Zoe on the stairs. 

He doesn’t hesitate, just slips the pills into his pocket. Goes back to sit on the bed. Zoe’s returned with an entire half-gallon of ice cream and two spoons. She’s obviously stoned. Has this dumb fucking lopsided smile, her eyes all red and glassy. 

She turns the movie back on and offers Connor a spoon. 

When the ice cream melts a little around the sides of the container, he spoons some of it up like soup. Slurps it. It’s cool on his throat, which is dry and sore still from all the screaming and crying he’s been doing. From all the weed he just smoked. 

Zoe doesn’t try to make him talk. Connor appreciates this. 

They finish the ice cream. 

Well. Zoe does. Connor just… drinks a little of it. 

It’s sort of the only thing he’s eaten properly in… a while. Days. Several days. Nobody’s paying attention to him eating right now. Who wants to eat?

The movie ends. The Plastics break up and everyone just exists in a happy, fake ass version of high school where nobody has any real fucking problems. 

Connor thinks stupidly that he shouldn’t have deleted M’s number. He has real fucking problems now. 

Zoe yawns. It’s late. She asks if he wants to ride to school together the next day, and Connor says it’s fine because his dad took his car to have it detailed. 

Because there are bloodstains on the seats in the back. 

Evan’s blood. 

He’s not coping. 

He can’t fucking cope with this. 

Connor goes to the kitchen for water. 

He carries the glass to his bedroom. Closes the door. 

Everything is his fault. He knows it is even though nobody else will listen. 

He knows. 

He just wants it to stop. He wants a break. A break from the guilt and the shame and the horrible backbreaking sadness. It hurts it hurts it hurts so damn much. 

It takes a moment to work up the courage to get the first pill down his throat. 

So long, eighteen months clean. 

He hasn’t got the foggiest idea what his tolerance looks like these days. He doesn’t want to overdo it, but if he’s getting high then he’s fucking getting _high_. He wants to forget he fucking exists. 

He crushes up one of the twenties and snorts it off of his desk. 

It’s not gonna be enough, he thinks, frowning. 

It’s gonna take a lot more to numb this. He _can’t_ feel this. 

He shakes out the eighty miligram. Another forty. Another twenty. The maybe Klonopin. 

Tries to do math even as the pill he snorted hits his bloodstream and lights his brain up like a slot machine hitting a jackpot, demanding more more more more. 

It’s probably too much. 

It’s probably not enough. 

He tips the pills into his mouth. Two swallows. Nothing exciting. 

Everything starts to slow and blur nicely. Why’d he give up drugs again? Drugs are fantastic. He loves drugs. Why has he bothered being sober?

Seriously what good has being clean ever fucking done him?

He blinks. 

It’s getting harder to open his eyes back up. 

He blinks again. 

He wishes Evan was here. Falling asleep with him was so nice the other night. He’s so warm. He makes Connor feel so safe. Wanted. He smells good. Connor blindly reaches for the hoodie of Evan’s that he found in his car. Pulls it on. He’s shivering. 

He misses Evan. 

Evan tried to get his dad to kill him. Tried to kill himself. Almost managed it. 

Connor’s cold.

He can still feel this. He thinks he’s taken too much. 

He needs to tell someone, call out for help but… He’s too tired. 

So damn tired. 

His eyelids are too heavy, he’s too heavy, and he’s cold and it all still hurts. 

His eyes close. 

He can’t open them. 

He took too much… 

It’s too late now. 

It’s too -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! at the Disco  
> Chapter title from "The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes" by Fall Out Boy


	50. This Was No Accident, This was a Therapeutic Chain of Events

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets come to light in the wake of another tragedy. Heidi and Cynthia go head to head.

Zoe wakes up the sounds of screaming. Blood-curdling screams. 

She opens her eyes, her heart pounding. She realizes as she stumbles stupidly out of bed that she’s still fucking stoned. She tunes in better to the screaming. Someone is calling for her dad. 

Zoe rushes out of her room and into the too-bright lights of the hall. Her feet seem to know immediately what to do because she rushes to Connor’s bedroom. Stands in the doorway. He’s on the floor. His eyes are shut. His lips are bluish. Their mom is saying something, nonsense, she’s talking in this frantic tone saying, “No no. You’re okay baby. You’re okay. Connor sweetheart you’re okay just open your eyes baby, it’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.”

Oh god. Oh god there’s a bag of pills, half empty, on his desk. His lips are blue. He makes this gargling awful noise. His eyes are closed and their mom is gathering his limp form to her chest, still talking, “Baby, you’re okay. Mom’s here. I got you you’re okay you’re okay-”

Zoe doesn’t even notice her dad until he’s already in the room. He barks “call 911” and Zoe takes off. Grabs the cordless from her parents’ room. Dials and spits out what she knows. Her brother’s not breathing. He’s not breathing. 

She thinks he took pills but she doesn’t know  _ what.  _

He took too many, too much, she’s crying to the operator on the phone who says an ambulance is on the way. 

Back in Connor’s bedroom, his dad is aggressively rubbing his fist against Connor’s chest. He makes another sickening, gasping sound, and his body is shaking and shaking and his dad is slapping his face slightly saying, “Wake up, damn it, wake up-”

“Is he breathing on his own?” the 911 operator asks. 

“N-no,” Zoe sobs. She watches her dad pry Connor’s mouth open. Pinch his nose. “My dad’s giving him mouth to mouth is that right should he be-?”

“Yes, yes, that’s good.”

Zoe can’t breathe he’s not breathing and neither is she he took pills he took her pills he’s turning blue and grayish he’s so skinny when did he get so fucking skinny? 

His eyes flutter open for the briefest second. 

His eyes close. 

Their mom screams. This horrible, feral sound and she’s shrieking and sobbing and then Zoe hears sirens. She rushes down the stairs so fast she trips halfway down and tumbles to the bottom. She gets up immediately to open the door and tell the paramedics that Connor is upstairs in the first bedroom on the left. 

He took too much… he’s not breathing. Her legs are shaking and sore. She hangs up the phone. Lets it fall to the floor. 

Zoe hears the paramedic say something about a drug she’s never heard of as Connor comes down the stairs on a stretcher. He’s not making the choking noise anymore. They load him onto a gurney and their dad climbs into the ambulance after him. He calls out the name of the hospital as the doors close. 

Zoe goes back up the stairs. Her mom is mopping up her face. She’s trying to compose herself. “They gave him narcan,” she says to Zoe. She’s holding Zoe’s mostly empty stash bag. Zoe feels herself flood with absolute terror and shame. 

She might have just killed her brother. 

“We need to go to the hospital,” her mom says. Her tone is all business. 

Zoe nods. “Okay. Let me just. I’ll put on jeans.”

She changes out of her pajamas fast. Her mom meets her at the bottom of the stairs. She’s in jeans too. Zoe doesn’t remember the last time she saw her in  _ jeans.  _

“You’ll need to drive,” her mom says as they head out to the garage. 

“Why? I don’t-”

“I’ve been drinking,” her mother says. “You’ll have to drive.”

* * *

It’s Evan’s seventeenth birthday today, and he’s unconscious in a hospital bed.

He woke up for a brief moment this afternoon, completely high on painkillers, asked for his mom, and then fell back to sleep. 

Heidi hasn’t slept since Saturday. Not really. She’s dozed in this armchair next to his hospital bed, but she hasn’t left. 

She can’t leave. 

She refuses to leave. 

Even if he never wakes up, even if they take him away from her because this happened under her care, she won’t leave  _ now _ . 

She can’t. 

She’s called work and told them she’s not coming in until further notice. Her boss wasn’t thrilled, but she doesn’t care. 

She’ll quit her fucking job if she has to. 

She’s not leaving Evan alone. Not now, not ever. 

They’ll have to tear her away kicking and screaming.

A doctor comes in after dinner and tells her that they’re upping the sedatives, that they want to keep him comfortable and healing throughout the night. 

“He’s on a pretty high dose,” she says kindly. “He won’t be waking up again until morning at the earliest. This is a good time for you to go home and get some sleep.”

“I’m not leaving,” she tells the doctor immediately. “I am not leaving him.”

The doctor looks like she wants to argue, but she doesn’t. 

Which is a wise move. If she tried, Heidi’s not above reminding her that this fucking hospital has a Henderson Memorial wing that her late husband paid for when his parents passed. 

She’s done it once and she’ll do it again, no matter how tacky she thinks it is to throw money around in normal circumstances. 

These are not normal fucking circumstances. 

Heidi moves her chair closer to Evan’s bed when the doctor goes. Reaches out and carefully holds his hand. 

There are bruises on his knuckles, but not many. Not enough. 

They’re the same bruises he had after he punched Brian. 

Who is fucking  _ fine _ , by the way, not to mention suspended and facing expulsion. 

The school found the security tape and it’s obvious that Evan didn’t start anything. It’s obvious that it was a deliberate attack, that Brian, Chad and Jared had teamed up to hurt Evan. 

Greg had dug a little deeper and once Brian, Chad, and Jared knew they were found out, they’d thrown Madison and Tommy under the bus, too. 

Five of them. 

Fucking  _ five  _ of them, all teaming up to get rid of Evan. 

Heidi hopes they’re fucking happy now. 

They’re all suspended, Greg tells her, and while the school board won’t reverse Evan’s suspension, he’s not expelled. He can come back to school on Wednesday. 

He might not be  _ alive  _ on Wednesday. 

Heidi’s crying again. All she’s done for the past few days is cry. It’s a never-ending tidal wave of sadness and pain that just keeps going, keeps coming out. She’s so fucking disgusted with herself. 

She should have told Evan she believed him, not that it didn’t matter whether she did. 

She’d been so afraid of losing him and now she might lose him forever. 

She wipes her face. Squeezes Evan’s hand lightly. 

“I love you,” she tells his unconscious body. “I love you so much, kid, you have no idea how much I love you. Get better so I can tell you properly, okay? So I can…”

So she can do what she’d been planning to do for his seventeenth birthday. 

So she can ask him if he’d let her adopt him. 

Even if he recovers, if he gets better, they might not let her now. Not after this. 

She squeezes his hand again. 

Her cell phone rings. She sees it’s Larry calling and answers it. 

“Hi,” she says wearily. 

Larry sounds terrified. “Connor’s in the hospital,” he says, his voice trembling. “We just got here in the ambulance, they’ve rushed him off, Cynthia and Zoe are on their way-”

“What happened?” Heidi asks, her heart sinking because she knows. 

She fucking knows. 

“Overdose,” Larry says, his voice tight with fear and grief. “I need Zoe to tell me what was in her stash, I should have-”

“ _ Zoe’s _ stash?” Heidi asks, her eyes widening. 

“It has to be,” Larry says, sounding ashamed. “I searched his room for drugs yesterday, I was worried he’d… he’d do something stupid, fuck.”

“Where are you?” Heidi asks, standing up. “I’m coming.”

Larry tells her and she hangs up the phone. Looks at Evan, still out for the count. 

Hits the button for the orderly. Explains the situation. Tells him that if anything happens, she’s still on hospital grounds, she’s not leaving. 

Evan would want her to check on Connor. On his family. 

Evan would want that. 

“I love you,” she tells Evan quietly. “I love you, I will be back soon, okay? It’s going to be okay. It’s all going to be okay.”

She wishes she knew for sure she wasn't lying. 

It’s not far, the waiting room where the Murphys are. Cynthia’s in jeans, which Heidi literally cannot remember ever seeing her in, and Zoe’s eyes are bloodshot and her face is pale. 

On closer inspection, she smells like a very strong floral body spray.

There’s only one fucking reason for that strong a body spray, fuck. 

_ She’s  _ high. 

Her brother just fucking overdosed on her stash and she’s  _ high _ . 

Heidi could wring her neck right now, fucking hell. 

Larry stands up. Pulls Heidi into a tight hug. 

He’s shaking. He looks completely lost. 

“I have to talk to Zoe,” he says. “Can you stay with Cynthia? I know it’s a lot to ask-”

“Of course,” Heidi interrupts, because she can put aside her dislike of Cynthia for five fucking minutes in a crisis. “Of course, go.”

Larry lets go. Looks at Zoe. “We’re going for a walk,” he says, in a voice that even Heidi wouldn’t dare argue with, and Zoe goes even paler and nods. Stands up. 

She’s gotten tall, Heidi notices suddenly. She has long legs. 

With her hair pulled back and her face devoid of makeup, she looks a lot like Connor. 

Fuck. 

_ Connor _ . 

Stupid, idiot boy. Evan is going to be crushed, he’s going to be heartbroken, he…

He might not ever know. 

When he wakes up properly, he might not even know Connor. Might not know himself, might not…

The doctors had told her to prepare herself. That it could be a long recovery, that he might never be the same, that there was no way to tell what kind of damage had been done. 

That there was no way to tell if he’d wake up properly at all. 

Who knows what damage Connor’s done to himself, who knows…

Larry and Zoe go and it’s just Heidi and Cynthia, for the first time in months. 

Years, even. 

They haven’t been alone like this in a very long time. 

Heidi sits down next to her, hands shaking. 

She hates her. 

She hates this woman. And this woman hates her. 

Why is she here? Why is she even here, she should be upstairs by her kid’s bedside, should be taking every second of time she has watching him breathe because he might not…

He might not keep breathing. 

Cynthia lets out this shaky sigh. Her eyes are glassy. 

“Zoe had to drive us,” Cynthia says, her voice dripping with shame, “because I’ve been drinking. Every day, since I got home from rehab.” She lets out this choking sob. “Larry didn’t know, but Connor… he did. He knew about it. And I told him… I told him I’d get him sent away if he told his father. If he told anyone.”

Heidi’s stomach churns in revulsion. 

She could genuinely slap her right now. Hit her in the face. 

Heidi still wears her wedding ring, her engagement ring, but the stone’s nowhere near as huge as the one on Cynthia’s hand. 

David had proposed with something huge. Something as big and fancy and ostentatious like the one Cynthia wears. Heidi had said yes, then took one look at the ring and told him it was overkill. 

He’d grinned at her, still down on one knee, then pulled another box from his pocket and opened to reveal something simple, elegant and practical. Much more her style. She’d laughed and rolled her eyes and kissed him and told him he was a fucking idiot, who buys two rings? 

David had smiled even harder and told her she was worth a hundred rings. A thousand. A million. A billion. 

She’d told him to knock it off or they’d be there all night. 

She misses him so much. 

“So I’m guessing rehab worked out super well for you,” Heidi says caustically. 

Cynthia sniffs. Shakes her head. Looks at Heidi, frowning a little. “Larry called you,” she says quietly, “and you came straight away. Even though you hate me.”

“Larry’s family,” Heidi says immediately. “In every way but blood, Larry is a brother to me, and I would never let him down when he needed help.”

Cynthia chews on her bottom lip. Clears her throat. Wipes her face. “I’ve always been so jealous of you,” she says after a while. “You and David and Larry were like the three musketeers, all hot-shot lawyers. You’re smarter, you’re younger, you’re prettier…” She lets out a laugh. “You’re a natural blonde and you’re not even from California, it’s completely unfair.”

“Plenty of gray in it now,” Heidi says wearily. She sighs. “You were right about your hairstylist, by the way. Definitely better than the one I was seeing.” 

“I never fit,” Cynthia says, her voice small. “With you three. I never fit. You saw each other every day, you had all these jokes, all these shared experiences and I was just… a dumb housewife.” She sighs. “You always made me feel so  _ stupid _ .”

“Well,  _ you  _ accused me of murdering my husband,” Heidi can’t help but shoot back. “That was pretty fucking stupid.”

Cynthia lets out this strangled sob. “David was always there,” she says shakily. “Always. Like… like a lighthouse in a storm, he was always there, and I couldn’t… I wasn’t ready. For him to be gone.”

Heidi’s crying again. Dammit. “Do you think I was? It just… happened. One minute he was fine, the next he dropped dead in front of me. I wasn’t even a little bit ready. I’m still not fucking ready, I’ll  _ never  _ be ready.”

Cynthia’s crying, too. Not even bothering to hide it. 

“I’m not ready to lose my son,” Cynthia confesses. “I’m not… I’m not ready, I can’t do this, I won’t… I won’t survive this.”

“Yes you will,” Heidi says stubbornly. “You  _ have  _ to. You have Zoe.”

Cynthia cries harder. “You’re supposed to tell me he won’t die,” she says, a little pathetically. “Supposed to tell me that Connor will be fine, that he won’t…”

“I don’t  _ know  _ if he’ll be fine,” Heidi manages to choke out. “I don’t know if Evan will be fine, I don’t… I’m not ready either.”

Cynthia’s shoulders shake. “You’ve been a parent for less than a year,” she says quietly. “And you’re better at  _ that  _ than I am, too.”

“Not everything’s a fucking competition.”

Cynthia looks at her like she’s particularly stupid. “You’re a lawyer,” she points out. “Of course everything’s a competition.” 

Heidi shakes her head. “Not everything,” she says, her heart aching. “Losing them? That’s not… no one wins here. No one wins.”

* * *

Connor is where he needs to be, Larry thinks. With doctors. They’re working on him. Working to get him breathing on his own again. 

Larry hates this. 

He checked his room. Checked it yesterday. Checked all of the possible hiding places. 

The pills had to be Zoe’s. 

Larry’s had suspicions about what she’s been up to. Getting home at all hours. Whatever has been happening with Zoe and Sabrina Patel. Her grades have been slipping. 

He should have known. Should have talked to her sooner. Stupid. He knows better. But Zoe has never been the trouble maker, Zoe’s never been the one he  _ has  _ to worry about. 

He got soft. Relaxed. Cynthia’s been sober. Connor’s been clean. Even after the shit with Connor’s note at school, nothing serious followed. 

He got comfortable and look where it got them. 

Zoe looks pale and scared. 

They walk toward the vending machines. Larry feels his jaw clenching. He’s angry. Scared. Doesn’t know which of those will win out. 

“Where did he get the pills, Zoe?” 

Her eyes flood with tears. She shakes her head. “I didn’t know-”

“What was in there?” Larry asks. “The doctors need to know.”

Zoe sniffles. “I don’t… I don’t know what he took. There was. Oxy and Xanax in there. Klonopin. Adderall. I don’t. I don’t know what he took… we smoked some weed together earlier.”

Larry feels himself get angrier still. 

“How could you be so stupid?” He asks Zoe. “Your brother has a  _ drug  _ problem, Zoe. Your mother is an alcoholic. Why would you take such a stupid risk?”

“I don’t know,” she cries. Her lip wobbles and her face crumbles and she lets out a tiny little sob. She won’t look at him. She stares at the floor. Cries more. 

“How long have you been taking them, Zoe?” Larry demands. 

She sniffles. Wipes her eyes. “A while.” She shakes her head. “It’s stupid… I’m… I’m stupid.” 

Larry pulls Zoe into a tight tight hug. 

“He could  _ die, _ ” she cries into Larry’s chest. He strokes her hair. Lets her cry. “What if I k-killed him?”

Larry swallows hard. 

Part of him wants to just scream at her, shake her, demand to know what the hell she could have been thinking, why she would be making the same stupid mistakes her mother and brother have already made, but… 

Now isn’t the time. 

And he needs to check on Connor. Zoe’s hurting and scared, but she’s not the one in 

the hospital bed. 

Larry leads Zoe back to the waiting room. Cynthia gathers her into her arms, holds onto her while they both cry. 

Heidi looks at Larry, frowning. 

He walks away to find the doctors, confirms to them what they’d already suspected. Likely a mix of opioids and benzos. They thank him and tell him they will update him when they can. 

Larry returns to the waiting room. 

Zoe’s apologizing to Cynthia, saying she got the pills from Jared Kleinman. 

Larry’s going to kill that kid. 

He’s going to kill him. He’s sold both of his children drugs, nearly killed Connor once already… He’s going to kill that kid. 

Larry swallows hard. 

Heidi offers to get all of them coffee. 

Larry thanks her. She heads off. 

He wraps his arm around Zoe. She cries on his shoulder, and Cynthia holds Zoe’s hand. Nobody speaks. Nobody moves. They just sit. 

And they wait. 

They wait and wait. 

It’s agony. 

Utter agony. 

When this happened two years ago… 

Larry found him. Two years ago. 

Cold. 

Vomit leaking out of his mouth. 

Choking on it. 

Not breathing. Not waking up. 

He opened his eyes this time. For a second. Larry’s clinging to that second. He opened his eyes when Larry tried to wake him up. 

He’s clinging onto it with both hands. 

They keep waiting. 

They watch the clock. 

Zoe’s quiet now. The silence is terrible. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Murphy?” One of the doctors says. He looks serious but not grave. 

_ Please god let him be okay.  _

The doctor's voice is smooth and even. Connor’s going to be okay. They treated him with naloxone and activated charcoal. He’s receiving IV fluids. He’s conscious but disoriented. The doctors want to keep him here. “It’s the law, I’m afraid. We’ve got to 5150 him.”

Larry nods. They’ve been here before. Involuntary psychiatric hold. 

They’ve been here before. 

Heidi returns with their coffee and Cynthia gives her the update. Connor is okay, but he’ll be staying in the hospital. Cynthia is weeping openly. She practically flings herself at Heidi, thanking her for the coffee and the kindness and… Larry watches with a detached sort of interest. Maybe Cynthia will finally get over her issues with Heidi. It only took nearly twenty years. 

”Mr. Murphy, may I have a word with you?” The doctor says quietly. 

Larry nods. Fears that something worse may be happening. His mouth tastes sour. His heart skips beats. How could this possible that this could be worse?

“When we were treating Connor… it became clear to us that he is extremely thin for a person of his height.” The doctor is frowning. He uses the words “underweight” and “malnourished.” Voices a concern about what appear to be self-inflicted injuries. Mentions thinking about calling Child Services.

Fuck. 

Larry struggles to explain. Connor’s problems with food in the past. How he’s been working hard to get better about them, how he’d even gained back some weight. How he attempted suicide two years ago, almost exactly. He’s been working hard but it’s been a hard few days. A hard few weeks, in fact. His best friend is badly hurt. Connor’s been bullied at school. “But he’s been doing better. He sees a specialist. We’ve been monitoring what he’s eating at home…”

The doctor frowns. Mentions that Connor’s dehydrated. His kidney output isn’t great. His heartbeat is irregular. Asks if anyone has noticed Connor throwing up lately. Larry is devastated. He didn’t know. He didn’t know that was even possible. He didn’t know that this could be worse. “Is it possible that Connor has been hiding his condition from you?”

Larry feels like he could break down. He wasn’t watching closely enough. He wasn’t doing his fucking  _ job.  _ He failed. He’s failed again. He’s failed both of his kids so badly he can hardly even fathom it. 

“We might suggest, while he’s already here, that we introduce nasogastric tube feeding. To help get some calories into him. If he’s going to recover completely, he’s going to need to start putting on weight immediately.”

Larry nods. “Of course. Whatever you think is best.” He signs off on a form and asks if he can see Connor. 

“We’re getting him set up in a room. Because of our concerns about his heart rate, we’re planning to keep him in the ICU. Probably a few days...” 

* * *

Connor isn’t a fan of hospitals. Like generally. 

So when he wakes up in one, he’s immediately unhappy. He doesn’t exactly remember what sequence of events led him to being here. The doctors keep telling him that he overdosed on painkillers and benzos but that’s  _ wrong.  _ He’s eighteen months clean. He wouldn’t start using again. Evan would be so disappointed in him if he did that. It has to be a mistake. He keeps telling the doctors this but nobody is fucking  _ listening.  _ “No, okay, I wouldn’t… I haven’t touched anything stronger than weed in eighteen months. I haven’t.”

A nurse gives him a sympathetic smile. “It’s alright if you’re confused, sweetheart. Just take it easy.” 

Before long he’s being wheeled up to another room. A room. Like he’s staying. “Has anyone called my parents?” Connor asks stupidly. They are going to be so pissed at him. They won’t believe him but he knows, he  _ knows  _ he wouldn’t be so stupid as to get high right now. He wouldn’t. He’s eighteen months clean. He doesn’t want to get kicked out again. “I’m not fucking using, okay?”

But the doctors aren’t listening. They’re adjusting the IV stuck into his arm. They’re talking about activated charcoal and “hmm”ing over his chart. 

“Can I talk to my mom?” Connor asks stupidly. “Or my dad? Please?”

Eventually, they agree to let his dad in. 

When his dad steps into the room, he looks about a thousand years old. He looks  _ old  _ and tired and Connor feels guilty. He feels worse when his dad pulls him into an extremely tight hug and tells Connor he scared them half to death. He doesn’t let go for a long long time. Presses his lips to the top of Connor’s head. Holds on so tight it’s painful almost. Connor doesn’t try to fight it but he knows it’s  _ wrong.  _ None of this is right. 

“Dad, they’re lying. I didn’t take anything. I wouldn’t,” Connor insists when his dad finally lets him go. “I wouldn’t… I know better okay? I know better, I wouldn’t do that to you guys again. I swear. I…”

His dad shakes his head. “It’s okay, buddy. We’re gonna get you through this, okay?”

“I didn’t take anything,” Connor insists. He feels like crying. “I know how much I scared you guys last time… I know how pissed Evan would be if I started that shit again. I  _ wouldn’t _ .”

His dad reaches out and smooths Connor’s hair down. “Bud, how much do you remember about the last couple of days?” Connor tries to think. He can’t really remember what day it is. He opens his mouth. Closes it. It’s… Thursday, isn’t it? Evan’s birthday is next week. He was gonna take him to the beach house after school. Heidi was going to get him a cake. Balloons. 

Wasn’t she?

Connor was trying to psyche himself up for cake because. That’s a lot of sugar. But he’d do it because that would make Evan happy. Figured he could throw it up later if it was too much. 

Connor feels like crying because he suddenly realizes that’s  _ wrong _ . That’s not right. It’s not Thursday. It’s not… 

It comes back in flashes. Kissing Evan. A note. Driving to Chino, screaming at Evan’s dad. The long ride between hospitals. Evan needing brain surgery. Deficits. They talked about deficits. 

Taking a fistful of Zoe’s pills in his bedroom because he just didn’t want to feel it anymore. 

Doesn’t want to feel it. 

“Did he wake up yet?” Connor asks, his eyes spilling over with tears. His dad shakes his head solemnly. “Evan? He’s okay, right? He’s gonna wake up and be okay?”

“Bud, we still don’t know much -”

And then Connor’s yanking the IV out of his arm, he’s screaming, he needs to go he needs to see him he has to see Evan all of this is his fault it’s all his fault his fault-

“Connor you need to calm down-”

But he can’t he  _ can’t _ because he killed Evan. He killed him and he needs to tell him that he’s sorry he’s sorry he’s so fucking sorry he never meant for any of this to happen. He’s climbing out of this hospital bed he’s going to find Evan but his legs won’t fucking work...

Connor sags against his dad. There’s a lot of activity, doctors and nurses and orderlies and they tell him he needs to breathe and to rest but he can’t because he killed Evan he killed his best friend he killed someone he loves more than anything. 

They have to restrain him. Tie his wrists to the bed with Velcro straps and he’s so thin he manages to wriggle one of them free and so they have to strap him down even tighter. Reinsert his IV. Connor stops fighting. He stops. He’s ruined it he’s ruined everything. “I need to see him,” Connor says desperately. “I have to tell him I’m sorry…”

His dad sits on the edge of the bed and holds Connor’s immobilized hand. “None of this is your fault.”

But it is. Nobody’s listening. He did this. He kissed Evan and he took off and he didn’t get there in time. He waited and he knew better. He knew better. 

* * *

Larry comes back to the waiting room looking completely drained. Exhausted. Like he’s barely keeping himself upright under the weight of it all. 

Zoe launches herself at him the minute she sees him. Just wraps her arms around his middle and holds on tight, the way she used to do all the time when she was a little girl. 

Heidi thinks Zoe looks especially young tonight. 

“Is he okay?” Zoe asks immediately. “Is he gonna be okay? You saw him, right? He’s okay?”

“He’s gonna be okay,” Larry says immediately, stroking her hair. “He just needs time to heal and recover and…” He swallows hard. Looks at Heidi. “He blames himself. About what happened to Evan. He…”

“It’s not his fault,” Heidi says, her heart sinking. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine, I-”

“What happened to Evan is his  _ dad’s  _ fault,” Zoe insists, her voice young and small. “He should have… he was scared, he went to see his dad, his dad should have kept him safe, dads are supposed to keep you safe.”

Larry just holds onto Zoe tighter, his face ashen. 

Looks at Heidi with glassy eyes. 

“You’re right, sweetheart,” Larry says. “Dads are supposed to keep you safe.”

Cynthia stands up. Walks over to Larry and Zoe. “It’s late,” she says softly. “If he’s out of the woods, if he’s going to be okay, then we should all go home and rest.”

Larry looks at Heidi again. Swallows. Bites his lip. “Connor had to be restrained,” he says, his voice breaking a little as he speaks. “He ripped out his IV, he wanted to see Evan, to… to tell him he’s sorry.”

Heidi’s chest hurts, aches, and it’s just more pain, more and more pain that’s piling on top of itself, and she doesn’t know how much more she can take. “Evan’s not awake,” she says quietly. “Not really. He’s still…” A thought occurs to her. “Is Connor still in the ICU?”

Larry nods. “Yeah,” he says. Quietly. Like it hurts to admit. “He… he could be there a while, they’re worried about his kidneys. His heart. They… they’ve put him on a feeding tube because he needs to gain some more weight if he’s going to recover.”

“If they’re both in intensive care,” Heidi says, equally quietly, “then maybe they can be in the same room?” Larry’s eyes widen. “It might… it might calm Connor down. If he can see him.”

“It might,” Larry agrees. He kisses Zoe on the head, then lets her go reluctantly. “I’m going to ask the doctors.”

“I’ll come with you,” Heidi says immediately. “If they say no, I’ll remind them how much money my late husband donated to this place.”

Larry gives her a pale imitation of a smile. “Throwing your money and influence around in true Newport Beach style. Only took you twenty years.”

The doctors don’t need much convincing to move Connor into Evan’s room. 

They do, however, want Heidi to go home. 

And don’t seem to be budging on that. 

“You haven’t left since he was admitted,” says the head doctor firmly. “Barely slept. We understand this is a terrifying situation for you, we really do, but you’re not doing Evan any favors by not taking a break. You need to go home and get some sleep. Shower. Change. Take some space for your own mental health.”

“I can’t leave him alone-”

“He won’t be alone,” the doctor says firmly. “He won’t. You know that.”

She does. 

Fuck. 

She…

She’s exhausted. Completely drained. 

“I can stay with them,” Larry says quietly. “For tonight. If they’re both in the same room, it makes it easier.” The doctor looks at him like he’s about to argue, but Larry just shoots him a look right back and he seems to realize it’s a lost cause. 

They’ve sedated Connor, the doctors tell them, so they’ll move him while he’s out. Larry and Heidi return to where Zoe and Cynthia are waiting and let them know what’s happening. 

Cynthia looks… tired. Old. 

She looks at Larry, then Zoe, then back to Larry. 

“Tomorrow morning, I’m checking myself back into rehab.”

Larry’s already pale face drains of all color. He flinches like she’s hit him. “What?”

“I didn’t stop,” she says quietly. “I didn’t stop drinking. I just hid it better.”

Larry’s jaw drops. He looks devastated. “You… it’s been months.”

Cynthia’s face is tight with fear, but her chin is set determinedly. “I’m checking myself in tomorrow,” she says again. “First thing. I need to get this under control.”

Larry’s eyes go glassy. Heidi’s never seen him look so hurt. “Connor nearly died tonight,” he says quietly. “Connor nearly died, and you’re leaving? He… he needs you, Cynthia, can’t you just hold it together for-”

“He knows I’ve been drinking,” Cynthia interrupts. “He’s known ever since the first day I got back. I told him that if he told you, I’d send him away again.”

Larry recoils again. He’s staggering under the weight of what Cynthia’s telling him. Heidi almost feels like she should be trying to hold him steady, reaching out to keep him upright, but she doesn’t dare. 

She shouldn’t be here. 

She shouldn’t be witnessing this. 

She-

Cynthia turns to her. She’s wearing this determined expression. “You said Larry was your brother,” she says. “In every way that matters. You’ll be here while I’m not. While I… figure out how to be.”

Larry looks so lost. “Does it have to be tomorrow?” he asks, his voice tight with grief and anger. 

Cynthia hesitates, then nods. “Right now,” she says quietly, “I could do more damage. I could hurt him more. I don’t… he doesn’t deserve that. He deserves a mother who’s brave enough to face her demons.”

Part of Heidi wants to slap Cynthia hard across the face. 

The other part thinks she might be right. 

Heidi ends up driving Zoe’s car back to the Murphys. Cynthia’s hands are shaking too much and Zoe won’t stop crying. Cries the whole ride home, these awful sobs that make her sound so young. So fucking young. 

It feels wrong to be going home. 

Feels wrong to be out of the hospital, to be driving home at 3am. 

Cynthia doesn’t say anything. 

Neither does Heidi. 

When they get to the Murphys and get out of the car, Zoe pulls Heidi into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry,” she weeps. “I’m so sorry, Aunt Heidi, I let you down and I was such a huge bitch to Evan and I did everything wrong and I-”

“Shhh,” Heidi says gently, rubbing her back. “Sweetheart, you’re okay.”

Cynthia hangs back, but she’s there, looking solemn and guilty. 

“In the morning, maybe you should call Sabrina,” Heidi suggests gently. “I know she’s been a good friend to you. She was there when Evan…”

She can’t say it. 

She can’t fucking say it. 

Zoe’s whole face crumbles. “I can’t do that,” she says miserably. “I can’t… she hates me.”

“She does not hate you, sweetheart,” Heidi says firmly. “And even if you did have a fight, I’m sure she’ll be able to look past that after everything-”

“I’m in love with her.”

Cynthia’s eyes go wide. 

Heidi… was not expecting that. 

“You are?”

Zoe nods. Wipes her face. 

Doesn’t look at her mom. 

“I’m in love with her, and she’s in love with me, but I can’t be with her,” says Zoe. Something in the way her chin is set makes her look almost exactly like her mother. “I can’t be her girlfriend like she wants me to, because I’m too scared. Because when she came out, people were awful to her, _ I  _ was awful to her.” She bites her lip. “Because Mom called Connor a faggot at cotillion and if she said the same thing to me I’d never get over it.”

Cynthia flinches visibly. Her shoulders sag. 

“Your mother loves you,” Heidi says fiercely. “And she loves Connor. And she’s going to do the work this time and deal with her issues.” She looks Cynthia dead in the eye. “Isn’t that right?”

Cynthia nods. 

She looks confused and ashamed and so, so tired. 

Heidi turns to Zoe. Hugs her again. “You are brave and strong,” she says firmly. “You are brave and you are strong and everything is going to be okay.” 

When Zoe finally lets go, she’s paler than Heidi’s ever seen her, but she looks… lighter, somehow. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

This is…

Heidi says a quick goodnight, then heads down the driveway. Up her own. Into her house. 

Her too-big, empty house. 

Mechanically, automatically, she goes through the motions of making a smoothie. Drinking it. Having a shower. Getting into her pajamas. Climbing into bed. 

She’s exhausted. 

Completely exhausted. 

But sleep doesn’t come. 

She doesn’t know what possesses her, but she gets up. Picks up her phone charger and her phone then heads to Evan’s room. 

It’s weird and creepy, sure, but she just wants to feel close to him for a little while. 

She plugs in her phone. Gets into bed. 

Closes her eyes. 

Finally sleeps. 

* * *

Connor wakes up extremely groggy and achey. There’s this awful feeling in this throat, like something’s been shoved down it and Connor coughs experimentally. 

Scrunches his nose. Something’s in his nose. 

He blinks a few times. Tries to touch his nose but he can’t move his arms. 

“Connor,” a voice says. 

Connor doesn’t understand he can’t move his arms he can’t move and someone has stuck something in his throat how is he not choking how-?

“Connor. Calm down. You’re okay,” the voice says. 

His dad. It’s his dad. 

He’s coming to sit beside Connor. 

Taking his hand which is… strapped to the bed. 

Hospital. He’s in the hospital. 

Connor wants to freak out. But he doesn’t have it in him. 

“What’s happening?” Connor tries to say. His voice is scratchy and his throat hurts. 

“You… bud, you overdosed last night.”

That can’t be right… he hasn’t taken anything in eighteen months. He’s clean. He’s…

It all comes crashing down. 

The pills from Zoe’s room. 

Evan looking half-dead in a pile of garbage. 

“Where’s Evan? I have to see Evan.” Connor tries to wrench his hand away but the straps are so tight and he’s so tired. 

“He’s… bud. Look at me. He’s right here.”

Connor stops struggling. 

Looks. 

There’s another hospital bed. 

Someone covered in bandages. In tubes and wires. 

It hardly looks like a person. 

“That’s… that’s Evan?” 

“Yes. We… we wanted you to be able to see him. You’re in the same room.”

Connor keeps looking. Evan’s not moving. Not talking. Just breathing. 

“Has he woken up?” Connor demands. “Is he okay?”

His dad rests his hand on Connor’s shoulder. “He was awake for a few minutes yesterday. But we don’t know anything yet.”

Connor feels his tired eyes sting. “This is my fault.”

“No, buddy,  _ no.  _ None of this is your fault.”

“But-”

Connor can’t argue because his throat hurts. 

His dad seems to understand. Brings a pink plastic cup with a straw to his lips. 

Connor drinks. 

He kind of hates that his dad is babying him right now. He hates that he’s so helpless and stuck here. 

“Where’s Heidi?”

“Home,” his dad says. “She’s been here without a break since Saturday. She needed to get some sleep.”

Connor nods. 

Swallows painfully. 

“Mom? Zoe? Are they… are they mad at me?”

It’s a stupid question. Makes him sound like a little kid. 

“They’re both really worried about you,” his dad says. He sets the water on a tray beside Connor’s bed. He sighs. “Your mom… told me what she said to you. When you caught her drinking again.”

Connor looks away, lets his hair fall in his face. He can’t look at his dad. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. His throat is killing him. “I should have told you, I should have-”

“It’s okay,” his dad says. “I know why you didn’t. It’s okay.”

“I didn’t want her to send me away again…”

“Buddy. I know. It’s okay. I understand.” He reaches out. Pushes some of the hair out of Connor’s face. “You’re not going anywhere, okay? You’re staying here…”

Connor nods. 

He drops his shoulders. 

“We need to talk about what happened last night Connor.”

He really doesn’t want to. 

“And the fact that you haven’t been eating.”

Connor stares at his feet, under the thin and papery hospital blanket. He shivers. 

“But I… I  _ have _ …”

His dad looks sad. “And how much have you been throwing up?”

Connor opens his mouth to lie but he knows he can’t talk his way out of this one. 

“Bud… you’re not in great shape right now.” His dad scrubs a hand over his face. 

“I know. I know I… I fucked up. I’ve been fucking up again.” He feels his face burning with shame. He can’t look at his dad. He tries to focus his attention on the rise and fall of Evan’s chest. He doesn’t even know if Evan’s breathing on his own or not. He doesn’t know anything. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice,” his dad says softly. “How much you were hurting.”

Connor shakes his head a little. It jostles the thing in his nose and he coughs. “What… can I take whatever the thing in my face is off? It’s uncomfortable.”

His dad’s face looks so old. 

“No. You can’t.”

“What is it? I feel fine, I don’t-”

“It’s a feeding tube,” his dad says softly. 

“What?” Connor says. His heart sinks, then starts pounding. “No.  _ No _ ! I don’t need that.”

“I don’t like it either,” his dad says, “but your doctors are concerned-” 

“I’ll just. I’ll eat more or whatever but I don’t need this. I’m fine! I don’t want this!”

“It’s not up to you,” his dad says. His voice is hard. He’s not messing around. 

“You can’t-  _ you  _ did this?  _ You _ had them-?”

“Connor, your kidneys are shutting down. Your heart is… you need more help than I can give you right now.”

“I’m fine!” Connor insists. “I know I messed up but I swear I’ll be better. I swear I’m-”

“This isn’t up for discussion,” his dad says. “I’m sorry.”

Connor wants to scream or cry or rip the damn tube out of his throat. “I don’t want this…”

“I know bud.”

“I wasn’t trying to… I  _ wasn’t.  _ It was an accident. I didn’t realize… things have just been kind of crappy and I… I’ll be better.”

His dad just looks sadder. 

“And-and. It w-was an accident. I messed up, last night, I didn’t think my tolerance would be so different. I didn’t… I  _ wasn’t _ trying to-”

His dad doesn’t look impressed. 

Connor glances over at Evan. Thinks about how disappointed he will be to learn that Connor couldn’t even go two days without him without totally falling apart. 

“When can I go home?” Connor asks finally. 

His dad sighs. “I’m not sure. Legally, they have to hold you for seventy-two hours.”

“You let them 5150 me?” Connor whispers. 

“I had no choice, Connor,” his dad says. It seems to have finally broken whatever remained of his facade of strength. His dad’s eyes go dangerously glassy. “You overdosed. Again. You’re so underweight that it’s a miracle we don’t have Child Services showing up to remove you from the house. And given your history… This is  _ bad _ , Connor. I had no choice. I need you here where you can get better.”

“But I…”

He doesn’t have an argument to offer. Doesn’t have a way to talk his way out of this one. 

“... Are you mad at me?” Connor whispers. 

His dad sighs. “No.”

He’s lying. 

Connor can tell. 

“I’m scared for you. I’m scared of what you might do if you were allowed to go home.”

Connor feels his face heat up. 

He hasn’t got any cards left to play. He’s shown his hand and he’s got nothing. Nothing to show for himself. 

“I love you,” his dad says quietly. “So I’m going to do whatever it takes to help you get healthy. And I would appreciate it if you’d at least try to work with me.”

* * *

Zoe wakes up early on Tuesday. 

She’s barely slept. 

She texts her dad right away. He tells her Connor is stable and she should get some more sleep. 

But Zoe can’t. 

She  _ can’t.  _

Connor almost died. Again. 

And this time it’s her fault. 

Her parents wanted to send her to therapy last time but she said she was fine. 

She almost killed her brother. They don’t get along but… Jesus. 

She doesn’t want him  _ dead.  _

They used to be friends. When they were younger. Before Connor got… 

Sick? 

Zoe thinks her brother might be seriously sick. 

She can’t get the image of his bluish lips out of her head. He wasn’t  _ breathing.  _

He wasn’t breathing. 

She almost killed him. 

Zoe gets out of bed. Goes downstairs and… eats a bowl of cereal. It tastes like dust in her mouth. She ends up dumping most of it down the garbage disposal. She feels sick. Almost feverish. Nauseated. Her nose is running. 

She goes upstairs. 

The light in her parents’ room is on. 

Zoe knocks. Her mom’s voice says, “Come in.”

Her mom is still in her pajamas, but she’s awake and drinking coffee and there’s a suitcase open on the bed. 

“You’re really going to go today?” Zoe asks, her voice coming out dull. 

“I have to,” her mom says. “I can’t keep putting it off.”

She starts packing up clothes. 

Zoe sits on the big bed. Waits for her mom to notice her. 

“I should have known,” her mom says to herself. “That boy’s been bad news since he arrived.”

Zoe doesn’t understand. “What?”

“That… criminal that Heidi’s been housing,” she says, and she’s frowning. “He’s a bad influence on your brother. It was only a matter of time before something like this happened.”

Zoe wants to defend Evan. 

Evan didn’t do this to Connor. Evan’s hurt, he’s in the hospital, he doesn’t even know that this happened. 

“I see the way he looks at him,” her mom goes on. Disgusted. “Connor’s… there’s something wrong with him.” She sniffs, and goes on. “I hope he’ll take therapy seriously so that they work it all out.”

Zoe suspects her mom’s not talking about Connor’s giant self destruct button. The one he keeps slapping and how he has scared the shit out of all of them more times than Zoe can count. She gets the feeling she’s not focusing on that at all. 

And Zoe feels her insides burning with shame. 

Because last night she told her mom and Heidi about Sabrina. How Zoe loves her. How she’s  _ in love with  _ her. 

“Do you think something’s wrong with me?” Zoe asks quietly. 

Her mom looks at her. Her expression is sad. “I think you’ve been around so much trouble… it’s not surprising you’re struggling too.”

Zoe feels her breath catch. “Mom,” she says softly. 

“You’ll get over it,” her mom goes on. She’s packing up socks and underwear. “It’ll pass sweetheart. I promise. Feelings when you’re sixteen are confusing and overwhelming, but they pass. You get over them.”

“You mean like you got over Uncle David?” Zoe says, a little angry. 

Her mom looks at her sharply. “David… that wasn’t a fleeting thing Zoe.”

“I don’t think Sabrina is either,” Zoe says, her head held up defiantly. 

“You’ll grow out of it. Lord knows everyone else does.”

Zoe doesn’t understand. 

“Lisa certainly outgrew her little phase.”

Zoe shakes her head. Not sure what to make of that. 

“You knew Sabrina’s mom growing up?”

Her mother nods. “Oh yes. She was a desperate social climber then too. First Heather, then she tried to cozy up to me. When I wasn’t interested, she moved on to Aaron.”

Zoe stares. “Sabrina’s mom  _ came onto _ you?”

Her mother gives her a pale smile. “She was more discreet than you’re imagining.” She looks at Zoe. “That’s a lesson you could stand to learn.”

Zoe feels herself shaking. “I’m in love with her.”

“No you’re not,” her mom snaps. “You’re confused. Like your brother.”

Zoe shakes her head. Thinks about Connor telling Evan he loves him when they were on the way to the hospital in Chino. 

She doesn’t think Connor is confused. She certainly doesn’t feel confused. Not about how she feels. 

Her mom said last night that she was going to do the work this time but Zoe sees now it was… just for show. For Heidi. Her mom is a liar. She’s always been a fucking  _ liar.  _

Zoe shakes her head again. “I don’t think you’re right,” she says quietly. 

Zoe gets up before her mom can reply. Leaves the room without saying goodbye. 

She showers and gets dressed. Doesn’t put a lot of effort into her outfit, opting for a pair of jeans that have grown a little loose over the last month or so and a blue t-shirt with a matching hoodie. Her flip flops. She pulls her hair into a damp ponytail and grabs her keys. 

Sits in the driveway for a long time. 

When it becomes clear her mom isn’t going to run after her, Zoe drives off toward school. 

* * *

As much as she wants to, Heidi manages to force herself not to just go straight to the hospital the minute she wakes up.

Instead, she takes a bath. She hasn’t done it in months but it’s always made her feel a little better. Her entire body aches from sleeping in the armchair next to Evan’s bed and she’s got to make sure she’s in fighting form. 

Because Evan is going to wake up. 

And she is going to convince Child Services to let him keep her. 

Regardless of any “deficits.” No matter what happens, no matter how bad things get, Heidi is not giving up. 

She’s not. 

She’ll quit her job if she has to. Look after him full time. She’s got more than enough money to keep them afloat for as long as it takes with the amount of money she inherited when David died. 

She’s going to make this work. 

And Evan is going to wake up properly. 

That’s just… it’s just how it’s going to be. She won’t accept anything else. 

When she gets out of the bath, she puts on the most comfortable underwear she owns. The most comfortable jeans and t-shirt. A soft cardigan she hasn’t worn since D.C. where there was actually weather to justify it. 

It’s kind of cold in the hospital sometimes. 

Or maybe it’s just her. 

It’s not even 9am by the time she’s ready. She hadn’t slept a lot at all, not really, but she feels… better than she has. Not good, exactly, not even positive or optimistic, just… determined. 

Determined that things are going to work out. 

Because she is going to  _ make  _ them. 

Heidi drives her car to the Murphys’ front door. Lets herself in with her spare key and finds Cynthia sitting at the bottom of the staircase. She’s in jeans and a t-shirt, much like yesterday, and her hair is wet like she’s just washed it.

It is completely unnerving to see her like this. She hasn’t even blow-dried her hair. She’s not wearing makeup. 

She looks exhausted. 

There are suitcases sitting beside the stairs. 

Her eyes go wide when she sees Heidi. 

“What are you doing here?” she asks bluntly. 

Heidi looks pointedly at the suitcase. “So it’s straight to rehab, then.”

Cynthia looks away. “I thought it would be best.”

“Are you going to say goodbye to Connor?” she asks.

Cynthia shakes her head. “It’s better if I don’t. After the way I've treated him… it would be kinder if I didn’t.”

Heidi sits next to her on the staircase. 

Tries to pick her next words carefully. 

“That’s fucking bullshit and you know it.”

Okay, maybe she’s not that careful.

Cynthia’s shoulders sag. “I can’t face him,” she says quietly. “I can’t even look at him, I’m so ashamed.”

“You should be,” Heidi says bluntly. “The way you’ve been acting is disgusting.”

Cynthia blinks. Looks at Heidi. “Please,” she says dryly, “tell me how you really feel, Heidi.”

“He’s your son,” Heidi says firmly. “It doesn’t matter if he’s gay.” She’s so fucking sick of this. “If all of your bullshit boils down to  _ homophobia _ -”

“I just don’t understand why he’d choose this,” Cynthia interrupts, a little desperately. “Why Zoe would choose this. It’s going to make everything so much harder for them, people don’t understand.”

“You mean you don’t understand,” Heidi shoots back. 

Cynthia sniffs. Nods. “I don’t.”

“Because if you did,” Heidi says firmly, “then you’d know it wasn’t something either of them chose. It’s not the kind of thing that  _ anyone  _ chooses. It’s who they are.”

Cynthia frowns. Bites her lip. “Do you think it’s because I let Connor help me with the floral arrangements when he was little?” she asks, her voice thin. “I did a lot of the floral arrangements for events myself. Connor liked to help. He had a good eye for what flowers look best together.” She sniffs again. “His arrangements were classy for a six-year-old.”

Heidi feels like slapping her. “Floral arrangements did not make Connor gay, Cynthia, get a hold of yourself.”

Cynthia shrugs, kind of helplessly. “I just don’t know what I did to-”

“Do you remember David’s college roommate Steve?” Heidi interrupts. 

Cynthia looks at Heidi immediately, her eyes narrowing. “Yes,” she replies. “You and David went to his gay wedding. Well, it wasn’t a wedding, it was… something else, but it was basically a wedding.”

“A commitment ceremony,” Heidi confirms. “We did. Steve and Dean are very happy.” She smiles a little. “Steve emails me pretty regularly since David passed. He likes to check in on how I’m doing.” 

“That’s very kind of him,” Cynthia says, in this tone that makes Heidi think she doesn’t really believe that. 

“Steve wasn’t just David’s roommate.”

Cynthia’s eyes narrow further. She shakes her head. “No. You don’t get to say that.”

“David told me,” Heidi continues firmly. “After we got engaged, he told me that he and Steve dated in college. For about two years.” 

Cynthia shakes her head even more violently. “No.  _ No _ , David wasn’t  _ like that, _ David was-”

“David was someone who loved fiercely,” Heidi interrupts. “You were his first love, and you meant the world to him. So much that he insisted we live next door to you, so he’d have you right there.” She looks at Cynthia pointedly. “Do you think that was  _ my  _ idea? Living next door to my husband’s high school girlfriend? I fought him on it, but I caved in the end because I knew that he loved you.”

“You can’t say that,” Cynthia snaps. “You can’t tell me that he loved me and then immediately went on to fuck men, that’s... that is  _ cruel _ , how can you  _ say  _ that?” She glares at Heidi. “And why would you marry him if you knew he liked fucking men?”

“Because I love him,” Heidi says simply. “And he loved me. And we were planning to spend our lives together, so he wanted me to know who he was. All of it, not just the parts he thought I’d like to see.”

Cynthia is glaring but she looks heartbroken. Completely crushed. “How do you know he didn’t keep fucking men while you were married?” she demands. “How do you know that stopped, how do you know he was faithful?”

“I know him. I know he loved me.”

“But he fucked Steve-”

“He loved Steve,” Heidi counters. “He didn’t just fuck Steve, he  _ loved  _ Steve. Thought the world of him. They were still close, up until the day he died. Like he was close with you.” She laughs a little. “When it comes to David’s exes, I like Steve  _ so much better _ than you.”

“I can’t believe you’re so calm about this,” Cynthia snaps. “And I can’t believe you would tell me this the morning I’m going to fucking  _ rehab _ .” She rubs her face. “Christ, I need a drink.”

“I’m not telling you this to be cruel.”

“Could have fooled me,” Cynthia mutters. 

“I’m  _ telling  _ you,” Heidi continues, trying to keep calm in the midst of her irritation, “because your children love people you didn’t expect. And you need to find a way to deal with that. To accept that and be okay with that.” She sighs. “Ever since David died, you’ve been a fucking mess. And we don’t talk about him a lot, you and I, but when you mention him, you talk about him like he was… a saint. Like he was your perfect high school fantasy boyfriend and everything was perfect. You act like I stole him away from you, even though you were  _ married  _ when David and I met. You told me he was yours first, at cotillion. He was yours first, and I stole him.” Cynthia’s face is red now, and she won’t look at Heidi. “I didn’t steal him, Cynthia. And sure, he might have been yours first, but he was Steve’s second, years before I arrived on the scene.”

“Why would you marry a man who-”

“I married a man who I loved,” Heidi interrupts firmly. “I married the kindest, smartest, most passionate and amazing man on the planet. David loved hard, and he knew how to keep it, even if it wasn’t the same. Lord knows I’ve got exes who I never want to see again, but David could… he understood that love can change, and he cared about people so much that he refused to let the fact that their love had changed stop it from disappearing altogether.” She looks at Cynthia challengingly. “I didn’t always like it, but I respected it. Respected that he loved you. Even if it wasn’t in a romantic way anymore.”

Cynthia’s face is burning. “I tried to get David to have an affair with me,” she says, almost matter-of-factly. “When Zoe was a baby. I’d had two babies a year apart and I felt… ugly and fat and I wanted to feel wanted. And I knew that he loved me, so…” She hangs her head. “He wouldn’t. He swore he wouldn’t mention it to Larry, but he told me that he wouldn’t. That there was no way in hell he’d do that to either of you.” She crosses her arms. Looks irritated. “I let people think we’d had an affair. Because I wanted people to think he still wanted me. I  _ hated  _ that he didn’t want me.” She rolls her eyes. “And now I know it’s because he’d rather be fucking  _ men _ .”

“Fuck you,” Heidi says irritably, standing up. “Fuck you, I didn’t tell you this so you could be a cunt about it.” She can’t believe this. “David wasn’t straight. Neither are your kids. You loved David. You love your children. So you need to do some fucking soul searching, Cynthia, and get your head out of your ass.”

Cynthia stands up. “You don’t get to speak to me like that.”

“I’ll speak to you however I damn please,” Heidi replies icily. “David would be disgusted with the way you’ve treated Connor. You know that, right? He would be fucking  _ disgusted  _ and disappointed as hell.” She stares Cynthia down. “Did you call a cab to take you to rehab?”

“It’ll be here at ten.”

“Cancel it,” Heidi snaps. “You’re coming to the hospital with me. I’ll put your bags in the trunk, you can get a cab from there.”

Cynthia’s face goes white. “I can’t let people see me like this.”

Heidi raises her eyebrows. “I’ll give you ten minutes to do something with your hair,” she concedes. “But after that, you’re getting in the car and we are going to that fucking hospital and you are going to tell your son you love him. Do we understand each other?”

Cynthia’s eyes are big and wide. She looks angry, but there’s something else in there as well, something Heidi thinks might actually be respect. 

“You are such a goddamn bitch, Heidi Herzberg.”

Heidi just raises her eyebrows. “Maybe so,” she concedes. “But bitches get shit done.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic and chapter title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.


	51. You’re A Regular Decorated Emergency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoe has some hard conversations. Heidi makes a promise to Evan.

Larry’s exhausted. 

Connor is sleeping. 

Evan is… unconscious. 

Larry’s exhausted. 

He’s so exhausted he’s sure he’s dropped off and is dreaming when Cynthia and Heidi appear together in the door. Cynthia doesn’t have a stitch of makeup on. 

She’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt. He hasn’t seen her so dressed down in… a long time. 

Even in bed she always is so put together these days. 

Not that he knows. He’s been sleeping in the guest room. 

Larry doesn’t know what to make of her showing up with Heidi. 

Heidi clears her throat. “Come get coffee with me?” she says after she’s taken a moment to look in on Evan. There’s no change. 

He’s still out cold. 

Larry looks at Heidi, confused. 

Cynthia looks… as exhausted as Larry feels. 

But her eyes are clear. She’s sober. 

She hasn’t been sober… 

Larry missed it. Or ignored it. 

He doesn’t know. 

Heidi raises her eyebrows. “Cynthia wants to talk to Connor before she goes.”

Larry isn’t sure he believes that. 

But he gets up. Places a hand on Connor’s shoulder for a moment. Tells him he will be back soon. He’s still asleep. 

“Love you, kiddo,” he tells his son. 

Larry exits the room in the ICU. Follows Heidi into the hall. 

He hears Cynthia sniffling as she takes Larry’s chair. As Connor says, “Mom?”

As Cynthia responds, “Hi baby.”

Part of Larry wants to swoop in. Protect Connor from his mother who has been so cruel to him. 

But their son deserves an honest conversation with Cynthia. 

So he takes off with Heidi. Down the hallway, down the elevator. Out toward the coffee cart just outside of the hospital. The one the doctors all frequent. There’s at least twenty people in scrubs milling about. 

Heidi gets them both coffees and they sit at a picnic table. 

“You talked to her?” he says. 

Heidi sighs. “Told her to get her head out of her ass.”

Larry appreciates that. 

Heidi sighs. “You know I never especially cared for her,” she says, sipping her coffee. 

Larry knows. 

Lord how he knows. 

David used to complain to him sometimes. That it made him so frustrated and angry sometimes that the two most important women in his life didn’t get along. 

Larry never knew what to say back. Of course they didn’t like each other. David was the only thing they had in common. 

Heidi gives Larry a weak smile. “But she was always good with your kids.”

He blinks. 

“I could respect that… that was what she was good at. I thought she was a vapid narcissist most of the time, but she was always good with Connor and Zoe when they were little.”

It’s true. 

Before the kids started school, Cynthia doted on them. Loved being able to stay home with them. Read to them a lot. Played with them. Larry can’t even count the number of times he came home to discover his family in the middle of some intense game of pretend. Zoe and Connor were a prince and princess. Cynthia would wear this plastic tiara and say she was a queen. She would greet him with a big grin and say, “My lord, you’ve finally returned from the war against the ogres. Won’t you join us for tea?”

And the kids would giggle and cheer. 

Connor loved Cynthia fiercely when he was small. He always wanted to be doing what she was doing. He was like her little shadow with a mop of brown curls. It didn’t matter what Cynthia was doing, Connor was there with her. Delivering floral arrangements for events. Brunch with the other Newport Moms. Connor tagged along and everyone always remarked on how well behaved he was. 

Didn’t last once he got to school. 

But from the time he was born until he was about six, Connor was the envy of the Newport Parents. Quiet. Bookish. Stuck to his mother like someone had used super glue. 

Zoe was the rambunctious one. The loud one who was interested in music and generally being loud. The one who would get up during cotillion at four and demand to know when it was her turn to dance. 

He always thought it was weird that Cynthia insisted on bringing the kids to those events. 

Larry blinks himself back into the present. “Yeah. She was. When they were small.”

Heidi sighs. “She should get the chance to tell you herself,” Heidi tells Larry suddenly. “But last night… Zoe told Cynthia and I that she’s in love with Sabrina Patel.”

Larry blinks. “I thought she liked Evan.”

Heidi shrugs. “So did I.”

He scrubs a hand over his face. 

Both his kids are gay. 

He never expected that. 

“Maybe there’s something in the water around here,” he jokes weakly. 

Heidi doesn’t smile. 

“Obviously I’m fine with it,” Larry says. He thinks for a moment. “At least now I probably don’t have to worry about her getting herself pregnant?”

Heidi gives him a look. 

“I didn’t know,” Larry says. “She didn’t come to me.”

“Did Connor?” Heidi asks. 

Larry shakes his head. “No. He just… I just kind of put it together.” He smiles slightly. “Well. I wasn’t sure until after he came back from Hanover and he was trying to call that Miguel every day. But I had my suspicions… he was really obsessed with the white power ranger as a kid. I wasn’t  _ surprised _ .” He sighs. “I didn’t have any idea about Zoe…”

But he doesn’t care. He just doesn’t. He just wants her to be happy. Healthy. 

The rest of it? Doesn’t matter to him at all. 

“I’ll talk to her,” Larry says. Shakes his head. “I’ll make sure she knows that this… doesn’t change anything for me.” He shakes his head. “I still have to figure out what to do about… about the drugs. That’s more important right now…”

Heidi nods. 

Larry sighs. 

“I’m failing them both,” he says softly. “I can’t be in two places at once and they both… need me.” He shakes his head bitterly. “Fine fucking time for Cynthia to just. Check out.”

“I think she’s serious about it this time,” Heidi offers quietly. 

“She should have been serious about it  _ last  _ time. She should have been…”

Heidi puts her hand on Larry’s shoulder. 

“I’m sure you haven’t even thought about this,” she says. “But have you considered… calling your doctor? The one you’ve been seeing?”

Larry shakes his head. “I don’t have  _ time _ .”

“Then make time,” Heidi says. Her voice is hard. “You can’t help them if you lose yourself here.”

She’s right. 

He hates that she’s right. 

Larry makes a few calls after they head back inside. One to work. He’s going to be out indefinitely. A second to his therapist, asking to get in to see her as soon as he can. 

The last call he makes is to his mother. 

She’s always been steady in a crisis. 

She sounds so angry when Larry tells her why Cynthia won’t be able to help. 

“I always told you that you were stupid when it came to her,” his mother says briskly. “Too forgiving.” He hears her banging around in cabinets. “I’ll get the next flight out tomorrow.”

“You know that’s not what I’m asking,” Larry says to her. 

“Of course you’re not asking,” his mother says. “Stupid boy. I’m telling you. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Those are my grandchildren and I’m not letting that…  _ woman _ make things harder on them.”

She hangs up. 

And Larry is… relieved. 

As loath as he is to admit it, he needs another set of hands. He can’t be in two places at once. 

Connor and Zoe deserve to have two adults in their corner. Who can prioritize what they need above anybody else. 

Heidi is great and she’s been more than helpful but. She’s got Evan to worry about. 

Connor and Zoe need people only thinking about them. 

* * *

Connor is surprised to see his mom in his hospital room. 

Even more surprised when she tells him to scoot over and climbs into bed beside him and pulls him to her chest. 

Connor wants to resist this. He’s so fucking mad at her, he’s been fucking mad at her since he was about thirteen, but. 

He’s tired. He’s scared. 

She’s his fucking  _ mom.  _

“I am so sorry baby,” she says quietly. 

Connor can’t… he just can’t. 

“I really messed up,” she tells him. 

_ No shit.  _

“I love you so much,” she says. 

Connor wants to just. Take this. Lose his shit and let her catch him because that’s her fucking job. 

But he can’t. He just can’t. 

“Why’d you even come here?” he asks. He’s grateful for the fact that she can’t see his face. “Dad says you’re going back to rehab.”

“I needed to see you before I went,” his mom says tearfully. 

Connor’s not impressed. 

“Why? You don’t even  _ like  _ me.”

“Oh baby that’s. You know that isn’t true. I  _ love _ you,” she says. 

“Yeah but you don’t like me,” Connor says. “You’re disgusted by me. You think I’m… a disappointment. A freak.”

“I…” she wipes her face. “I don’t understand you,” she says. “The choices you’ve made…”

“Look, I already told dad. It was an accident so…”

But then he realizes. 

She doesn’t mean the pills. 

No, that she probably understands perfectly. The relief. The escape. 

She doesn’t understand why he’s  _ the way _ he is.

“I didn’t decide anything,” he tells her helplessly. “You think I would pick  _ this _ ?”

“You weren’t like this when you were little,” she insists. “You were funny and precocious and… and…”

“Normal?” He spits. 

“Yes! You were just like all of the other boys, you were-”

“Jesus, mom, my favorite thing to do when I was six was hang out with you while you did floral arrangements! You’re really  _ shocked  _ I turned out gay?”

For some reason, his mom looks devastated by this information. 

“I… I wanted to do everything you did when I was little,” Connor goes on. “I thought you were the coolest mom on the planet. I told you everything! I… I don’t get why you’re acting like this is news!”

“I-”

“I told you I wanted Tommy Whittington to be my Valentine in third grade!” It’s an almost shameful memory working its way to the surface, but Connor throws it at her anyway. It’s  _ true.  _ He’s known since he was nine years old that he liked boys in some capacity or another. 

“You did not. You said you wanted him to be your best friend.”

“No, I didn’t.  _ You  _ said that after I told you. I was nine! I didn’t exactly have  _ language  _ for the fact that I wanted to like. Hold hands with him.”

She’s acting like he’s not even talking. “Connor, you’ve always been so smart… I just. Don’t understand. Why would you want to make things so much harder for yourself?”

“I’m not gonna lie about who I am because you’re uncomfortable. Because you don’t understand,” he says angrily. “You’re the parent. It’s your job to  _ make  _ yourself understand. You’re supposed to love me no matter what.”

“I do, I love you,” she pleads. 

“No,” he says. “You love who you want me to be. And I can play the part. I can put on the clothes, wear the costume and the fucking  _ gloves _ , but I’m not gonna be any less gay.”

“Connor.”

“I think you should go,” he tells her harshly. “I don’t want you here. Not if you’re here to try to tell me to be different.”

She pulls away. “Connor…”

“No. You need to go. I don’t want to see you. I don’t have to justify  _ shit  _ to you. I’m not gonna let you tell me that there’s something wrong with me when you’re the one who has made me being gay harder on me. You’re the one who… who makes me feel like shit all the time. Makes me feel like I’m wrong and broken.”

His mom stands up. She looks near tears. “I can’t just leave like this…” she says quietly. “I love you. I want to  _ help _ you…” 

“Help me?” Connor says. He’s so angry it’s a good thing that he has tubes stuck in him because if he didn’t he wouldn’t trust himself not to lose it on her. “You’re the one  _ hurting  _ me.”

His mom shakes her head. “You weren’t always like this. You were better off before that… that boy showed up. I don’t know what ideas he’s been filling your head with, telling you and your sister that the rules don’t apply to you anymore but you were better off before he showed up,” She’s pointing a shaking finger toward Evan. 

Connor shakes his head. “You’re so full of shit. Evan? He’s the only person who has ever made me feel okay about being myself. And I love him so…”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I’m in love with him,” Connor says again stubbornly. 

“Why are you trying to hurt me?” she asks. She’s in tears. 

Connor ignores her and presses his call button. A nurse appears, looking confused. “Can I help you?” he asks, seeming unsure. 

“Yeah, can you get her out of here?”

The nurse looks confused. “Ma’am?”

“Do  _ not  _ touch me,” she says. 

But with one last look at Connor, his mother sweeps from the room. 

And Connor can breathe again. 

* * *

People are staring. 

Zoe can feel their eyes in the hallways. 

People are watching her, staring at her, and Zoe’s not sure what the reason is. Is it because she went out with Evan and they think he tried to kill Brian? Is it because she sat with Connor at lunch yesterday? Has the news already broken? That Zoe Murphy almost killed her brother?

Madison’s been suspended. Tommy too. They were involved with the whole thing with Chad and Jared, and everyone involved has been suspended. Brian too. 

Zoe finds herself grateful that Evan knocked him out. Brian is an asshole. 

They’re all assholes. 

By third hour, Zoe sees that someone has graffitied Connor’s locker. 

It says “YOUR NEXT QUITTER.”

This is supposed to be a good school, but people are fucking morons. 

That’s a fucking threat, Zoe realizes. Someone is threatening her brother. Zoe takes a picture of the graffiti and decides to head to the principal’s office. 

She has to walk past Evan’s locker to get there. 

His has been hit too. 

Grease pencil. People are getting wise to the fact that you can get sharpie off with hand sanitizer. It’s not words this time. Just a crudely drawn picture of a dick. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

Zoe can’t do this she can’t do it. 

She’s not brave enough to go to the principal. She’s not brave enough to protect them. She’s never been brave enough. 

Maybe she can… be a different sort of brave. 

Zoe walks back to her locker. Dumps her books inside. There’s a note shoved in the grate. 

It says, “I hope you’re okay.”

It’s not signed. Zoe can’t place the neat, loopy handwriting. 

She digs the sharpie out of her own bag. 

Slams her locker shut. It echoes in the empty hallway. 

She uncaps the marker. 

She can be a different sort of brave. 

She writes. 

Stands back to consider her work. 

_ “Zoe Murphy is a dyke.” _

She turns down the hall and out one of the side doors. She can’t be here. 

She gets in her car. 

She doesn’t know where to go. 

She can’t go home. She can’t be at school. 

So she goes to the hospital. 

It takes some time to figure out where her brother is when she gets there. First the receptionist says he’s in psych. Then she frowns and says, no, he’s in the ICU. Gives her polite but rambling instructions about how to get there. 

Zoe gets turned around but finally manages to find the right floor. She has to pick up a phone to talk to someone on the other side of the door to be let in. 

“I’m here to see my brother… Connor Murphy?”

“Hold on,” the woman on the other side of the line says. Then a moment later she says he’s with a doctor right now but she can come in shortly. Directs her to have a seat in the waiting area. 

Zoe slumps into a chair. Looks out the huge window. You can see the ocean from up this high. The waves are calm today. Wouldn’t make for good surfing. 

David and their dad tried to teach her and Connor when they were kids. Connor was bad at it. Never really got the hang of it. 

Zoe wasn’t bad. Sometimes her dad and Uncle David would take her out. Give her pointers. 

But she stopped when she got to high school. 

Guys surf. Girls don’t. 

It feels really fucking stupid when she puts it in those terms. Like who made those fucking rules? 

And why is Zoe bending over backward to follow them when they don’t make sense to her? When they don’t make sense at all?

After maybe fifteen minutes, Zoe checks again if she can go in and see Connor. The nurse apologizes. She forgot Zoe was there. 

Zoe’s not surprised. 

When Zoe is allowed to go into the room, she’s horrified to see that they’ve stuck Connor in the same room as Evan. 

Evan barely looks like a person. His head is wrapped in gauze. 

She heard her dad say he needed brain surgery. Brain surgery. 

Zoe feels stupidly like she needs brain surgery. She needs someone to go into her head and cut out the memories of the last few days. They’re too painful. 

Connor is sitting up. He looks unhappy. There is a tube in his nose. 

“Hey,” Zoe says quietly. 

He looks surprised to see her. “Hi?” He says it like a question. Like he doesn’t expect her to be here. 

Zoe doesn’t expect herself to be here so. They have that in common. 

She sinks into a chair by his bed. 

“You just missed mom,” Connor says. 

“She came?” 

Connor nods. “I kicked her out.”

Zoe’s kind of surprised. Connor’s always been good at yelling at their dad but. Not really at their mom. “You did?”

“She was being a bitch,” Connor says. 

“Isn’t she always?” Zoe tries. 

Connor grants her a smile. It’s weak and sad and awkward. 

“I told mom and Heidi that I’m in love with Sabrina,” Zoe finds herself saying. “Last night.”

Connor’s eyes go wide. Huge. “Seriously?”

Zoe nods. 

“Dude, can you seriously not let one fucking day be about me?” Connor says. It’s not mean or caustic. Just like. Resigned. “I don’t even get my own  _ birthday _ , and you couldn’t let me have an overdose without upping the drama?”

Zoe feels so fucking stupid. 

She thought he’d be… happy or whatever. Pleased she burned her life down too. 

“I never asked to have the same birthday, you know.”

Connor laughs. “I know. I was…” he shakes his head. 

“And… and  _ everything  _ is about you,” Zoe goes on. Her face feels hot. Her voice trembles. It’s not fucking fair. How dare he think she’s the one taking things away when it has always, always been the opposite. “All mom and dad care about is you. All people at school ever talk about is you. Sure they don’t like you but they’re still talking about you. I mean, Jesus, Jared Kleinman is so obsessed with  _ you  _ that he’ll do literally anything to get your attention. Do you have any fucking clue how long of a shadow you cast? I can’t escape you even when you’re not around. It’s like… it’s like the only person I know who isn’t always obsessing over you is Sabrina, and you’ve… you took her too. You became friends with her so that I couldn’t have her, and it’s not… it’s not fucking fair!” 

Connor stares at Zoe. “I’m not… I didn’t become friends with Sabrina to, like, spite you. She’s nice and. I thought… she just seemed  _ sad _ . Because you’re so obsessed with how people think of you that you called her a dyke in front of everyone.” 

“I…”

“You say you love her but you’re not even nice to her,” Connor says. “Do you even give a shit about what she wants? Or are you just so concerned about getting what you want that you forgot that other people were involved?”

  
Zoe’s jaw hangs open. 

She doesn’t know what to say. Her whole life… her whole life everything has been about Connor. She’s had to struggle and fight and kick and scream to get noticed and… she got it wrong. 

“How’d mom take it?” Connor asks suddenly. “When you told her about Sabrina?”

“She thinks I’m confused,” Zoe says. 

Connor snorts. Then pulls a face like that hurt. “Welcome to the club,” he says eventually. 

Zoe hangs her head. 

She feels like crying. 

Connor sighs. “Come on Zo, you know I didn’t mean it like…”

“How can you stand it?” she asks. “People looking at you and talking to you like you’re some kind of-of freak?”

Connor shrugs. “I mean. I  _ can’t _ . Why do you think I did all the drugs I did in ninth grade? I couldn’t take it so I… tried to block it out.” 

Zoe lets out a shaky breath. 

That’s. 

A feeling she can relate to. 

“Is that why you’re partying so much?” Connor asks her. 

Zoe shrugs. 

She doesn’t really know. She’s just. Tired of feeling stuff. Tired of fighting everything, of never getting what she wants. 

“I’m so sorry,” she says. 

“For what part?” Connor asks her. 

Zoe shrugs again. “I don’t know. All of it?”

She’s finally crying. 

“I shouldn’t have had that shit in the house. I know you… got really messed up on it. I shouldn’t have…”

Connor frowns. “How much are you taking?” He asks. “Do you feel sick when you don’t take something?”

Zoe shakes her head. “Not… not really? Sometimes, if I don’t take a break…” she shrugs. “I take breaks…”

“If you can take breaks, that’s good,” Connor says softly. His mouth is set in an unhappy line. He looks tired. “If you can still take breaks… That’s really good.” 

Zoe nods. 

“You know,” Connor says suddenly. “I’ve been waiting up for you.”

Zoe stares. “What?”

“On weekends. When you’re out partying and whatever.” He shrugs. “You came home upset a little while back. You were crying.” He bites his lip. “You seemed really upset. Your hair was all messed up. You went and took a shower like the second you got home. I wanted to say something but...”

Zoe knows when he means. He tried to talk to her that night. 

“I slept with Jared Kleinman.”

Connor stares. “Why the fuck would you do that?”

Zoe shakes her head. “I just… wanted to be  _ normal _ . And Sabrina slept with Michael and… I thought if I finally did it with a guy…” She bites her lip. “It was. Awful. I hated it.” She swallows. “It hurt?”

Connor looks really fucking sad. 

“Do I need to kick his ass?” he asks. “Did he… he didn’t force you did he?”

Zoe shakes her head. “No, it was… my idea.” She bites her lip. “He didn’t believe I’d never done it before and… then I started bleeding and…” Zoe trails off. “I told him to stop but he… didn’t.”

Connor looks sick. “Zo. I’m so sorry. I… I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.” He blinks a few times. “Have you told anyone?”

Zoe shakes her head. 

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” Connor says through gritted teeth. 

“It was  _ my  _ idea.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s okay,” Connor says softly. “Are you okay?” He asks her. 

Zoe shrugs. 

“Did you…” Connor scrunches up his nose a little. “Like. Did you use a condom?”

Zoe nods but her eyes flood. “It f-fell off so I drove out of town and b-bought the morning after pill with my fake ID.” 

Connor looks horrified. “I would have driven you,” he says. 

“I know,” Zoe replies. Wipes her face. “I was just so. Embarrassed.” 

Connor nods. “I still think I should kill him.”

“He’s been suspended from school. After what happened with…” Her eyes drift over to Evan. “So I don’t have to see him for a little while. Besides, how are you gonna kick his ass from in here?”

Connor frowns. Sighs. “Can you come here please?”

Zoe stands up. She doesn’t know what he wants. 

“I’m gonna hug you. Is that okay?” 

Zoe nods. Connor grabs her into a hug. It’s tight and his hands are cold but it’s exactly what she needs. 

“Don’t throw yourself away on guys like that,” Connor says quietly. 

Zoe dissolves. 

She’s crying into his shoulder. Just cries and cries and begs him not to throw himself away either. “You can’t just leave, asshole, it’s not fucking f-fair.”

Connor sighs. Pets her hair. Hangs onto her tighter. 

It’s different than last time they were here. He’s not cleaned up and okay. Not yet. He’s so obviously hurting. When she hugs him, Zoe can feel every knob of his spine under her fingers, every bone of his ribs like a freaky kind of xylophone. 

Connor rests his head on top of hers. Tells her he’s gonna be okay. 

“What’s the thing in your nose?” Zoe asks when she pulls away. 

Connor looks embarrassed. “Tube feeding. Did you know that not eating can screw up your kidneys?”

“I didn’t,” Zoe tells him honestly. 

“Me either.” He sighs. “Are you gonna… tell anyone about Jared?”

Zoe shakes her head. 

“If you… like if you need to talk?” He says. “You can talk to me. Okay. If you want.”

“Okay.”

* * *

Zoe’s dad asks to talk to her in the hall. Away from Connor. 

She’s expecting that he’s gonna yell. She deserves it. He’s gonna yell. Kick her out, send  _ her  _ to boarding school. She nearly killed Connor. 

But instead, he sits her down in the waiting room and looks at her sadly. “Sweetheart,” her dad says, his voice hoarse and tired. “I need you to talk to me.”

Zoe stares. She’s confused. 

“How long have you been using drugs?”

Zoe feels her face heat up. Feels her eyes sting. “A while.”

“How long is a while?”

Zoe shrugs. Looks at her feet. “Uh. Off and on this year. M-more since mom got home…”

Her dad sighs. 

“It’s not her fault just… it’s not her fault.”

Her dad waits for her to go on. 

Zoe sucks in a deep breath. “I’m… Sabrina Patel and I…”

She can’t say it. 

“I know. Heidi told me,” her dad says gently. “She didn’t  _ want  _ to but… considering everything…”

Zoe nods. Wipes her damp face. “I… it’s just. Confusing? I just. I… I wanted to be normal. Act like… like a normal girl…”

“Does doing drugs help you feel more normal?” Her dad says quietly. 

Zoe shrugs. Sniffles pathetically. She feels so  _ stupid.  _ She knows better than this. “I… I don’t know. It makes me feel like… less? Just. In general. I feel less. It makes things easier.”

Her dad looks so sad. So damn sad. 

“I think it’s probably a good idea if you talk to someone.”

Zoe feels panic start to bubble inside her. She’s not an addict. She doesn’t want to be sent away. “I’m… please don’t ship me off to rehab,” she hears herself beg. “Please. I’m not doing it that much. I’m gonna stop. I’ve stopped I won’t do it anymore please don’t make me go away.”

Her dad looks surprised. “Do you think you need to go away?”

“No! I’m not… I’m not like Connor and mom. I can stop. I have stopped. I swear.”

Her dad looks unhappy. He frowns. 

Zoe realizes that this is… exactly the sort of shit her brother would say before he went to rehab. That he could stop. That he didn’t have a problem. 

But she doesn’t. She swears she doesn’t. Zoe knows better. She never does too much, she has it under control she swears. 

She swears she does. 

Zoe balls her hands into fists. “Please,” she says quietly. “I’ll talk to someone. I’ll never do drugs again. I  _ promise.  _ Just please don’t send me away.”

Her dad frowns deeply but he nods. “Okay. Thank you for being honest with me.”

He’s looking at her hard and Zoe feels like she could whither in front of him. 

“I’ll see about finding you someone to talk to about this,” her dad says finally. “But I trust you to be honest with me about this, okay sweetheart? And if there is more help you need… I will trust that you’ll tell me.”

Zoe swallows hard and nods. 

“I love you honey,” her dad says. 

“Love you too.”

* * *

He’s drifting. 

Sinking. 

Everything is just…

It’s underwater. He can’t reach it. 

He’s underwater. 

There are fragments. Moments where he surfaces, and it’s confusing and loud and terrifying and then he’s…

Back underwater. 

Sinking. 

It’s dark. 

He’s not sure where he is. 

Who he is. 

What’s happening. 

Nothing makes sense, it’s all just…

Underwater. 

Quiet, and deep, and steady. 

Then the sound comes rushing back. 

He opens his eyes. 

No, just one, it’s only… half. 

He’s only seeing half, he…

What is he seeing?

He can hear beeping. Noises. He’s… heavy. 

Floating. But heavy, like…

He doesn’t know. 

He could be dreaming, he doesn’t know, it’s too bright, far too bright. 

“Evan.”

He doesn’t know who’s talking. 

Doesn’t know what’s happening, he…

“Evan, sweetheart, look at me. Just look at me.”

He doesn’t know where he’s supposed to be looking. 

Doesn’t know…

It’s too bright. 

Far too bright, he…

He can make out a shape. There’s… in his line of sight, there’s…

Hospital. 

In the hospital. 

Hospital?

“Yes honey, you’re in the hospital. You… you got hurt pretty badly.”

That’s…

He feels fine, he feels…

Floaty. Heavy. Something, he…

It’s a bed. He’s seeing a bed, he…

Something shifts. 

Lurches uneasily. 

There’s someone in the bed. Lying with closed eyes. 

Tubes. 

Wires. 

Thin and still. 

Long hair. 

_ Connor, asleep in the bed at the pool house, his hair spread across the pillow, long limbs wrapped around Evan, holding him close.  _

Hospital. 

Connor’s in the hospital, he’s hurt. He’s hurt, he got hurt, how did he get hurt, this is Evan’s fault he has to help he has to reach him he has to he has to he has to-

“Evan. Evan, you need to calm down, you can’t…”

“Hey. Hey hey hey, you’re okay, it’s okay, you…”

“You can’t move right now, sweetheart, you’re too hurt, please just stay still, you need to rest, you need to heal…”

There’s a cold hand in his. Long fingers. 

Familiar. 

He feels the fight drain out of him. 

“Connor,” he mumbles. Tries to say. “What happened to you?”

“I’m fine,” Connor assures him. “I’m  _ fine _ , I’m okay, you need to rest. Okay? Just rest for me, please? I love you. I love you. Please rest.”

He’s sinking again. 

Falling. 

He doesn’t want to go he doesn’t want to leave he doesn’t want this he doesn’t want this he -

* * *

Evan’s eyes close again and Connor struggles to stay standing. He’s hanging on tightly to his IV stand. He’s grateful they took the fucking tube out of his nose or he might have yanked it out when he hurried out of bed. 

Evan spoke.

He spoke. 

He spoke, he could  _ talk _ , he knew who Connor  _ was.  _

“Connor, honey, why don’t you sit down?” Heidi says and Connor lets her guide him to a chair. 

He feels like shit. Sluggish and weak and vaguely nauseated. Unsteady.

“He could talk,” Connor says softly. 

Heidi sinks into the chair beside him. Puts her head in her hands. Lets out this strangled sob. “H-he…”

Connor puts his hand on her shoulder. Squeezes. They just sit there for a few moments. Connor can’t put into words how relieved he is to hear Evan’s voice. To see him open his… well. One of his eyes. 

“Thank god,” he mumbles, because Evan could talk he could talk he could talk. But the relief turns to dust in his mouth almost immediately. 

Evan’s worried about Connor. 

That is. The stupidest fucking thing. That is so… 

Connor’s. 

Angry. 

Why the  _ fuck  _ would Evan be worried about Connor? Connor’s just an idiot, he’s fine, he’s just stupid he’s just stupid and sad and he just fucked up… 

Evan’s the one who… Evan’s the one who is hurt, who deserves worry. He… He can’t be fucking worried about Connor. That’s stupid, that’s not fair, doesn’t he know what he’s done to himself…?

Connor realizes he probably doesn’t. 

He doesn’t know what he’s done to himself. 

Evan doesn’t realize. He’s so hurt and he’s worried about Connor because he is stupid and he cares too much and he’s too good and it’s not fair it’s not fair it’s not fair that Evan is here. 

And Connor feels like he might collapse all over again. 

Heidi wipes her eyes. “You shouldn’t be out of bed,” She says, her voice firm. 

“But -”

“You’re supposed to be resting.”

“But Evan -”

Heidi doesn’t look impressed. 

“You need to look after yourself,” she says. 

“I’m  _ fine, _ ” Connor insists. 

Heidi gives him a  _ look.  _

Connor suddenly feels his heart leap into his throat. “You’re not gonna let us see each other after this,” he says suddenly. “Right? You… think I’m stupid and that it’s m-my fault he’s here and you’re not gonna let me see him.”

Heidi looks shocked. “Connor, honey, no,” she tries but he’s too far into this freak out to pull himself out of it. 

“I didn’t know… I didn’t think he’d… I didn’t think he’d  _ hurt himself  _ I didn’t know… I didn’t mean to…”

“Connor, sweetheart, you need to breathe-”

“I shouldn’t have fallen asleep,” he goes on. “If I had been awake I could have st-stopped him. I’m so f-f-fucking stupid. I’m so stupid I shouldn’t have-”

He can’t breathe he can’t breathe. 

If he had just stayed  _ awake.  _

If he hadn’t let Evan  _ kiss him.  _

“I did this,” he says again. “I did this I-I made him freak out I made him leave I make everyone fucking leave and it’s my fault it’s my fault-”

Heidi grabs Connor’s shoulders. Looks him dead in the eye. “No. You didn’t do this. You probably saved his life Connor. You were the one who knew where he’d go. You were the one who put yourself in danger to save him. You did not do this. The only person to blame is his dad, okay? You never hurt him.”

“But I did,” Connor cries. “I did. I pushed him away I pushed things too far I freaked him out I… I did this to him. He never would have left if I’d just kept it together…”

Heidi pulls Connor into a hug. 

He tries to push her away. He’s too sharp too painful to be close to he’ll hurt her like he hurts everyone he hurts everyone he loves…

A nurse hurries into the room. “What’s going on?” He demands, looking from Heidi to Connor to Evan. 

“Evan woke up,” Heidi says softly. She’s still holding onto Connor. “And Connor is upset.”

“That he woke up?” the nurse asks. 

“That he’s hurt,” Heidi says in this clipped voice. 

“Okay, Connor,” the nurse says. “I’m going to need you to get back into bed. You should be resting.”

Connor shakes his head. He can’t move. Everything hurts and he hurts everyone. 

The nurse doesn’t seem to especially care. He helps Connor out of the chair. Back into bed. Helps to settle him in his blankets and checks his IV line. 

Frowns when he takes Connor’s pulse and blood pressure. 

“Okay, okay, Connor?” he says to him. 

Connor tries to focus and pay attention but his eyes are glued to Evan who isn’t moving and who doesn’t seem to realize all of this is Connor’s fault. 

“Nothing is your fault, honey,” the nurse says gently. “But you gotta look after yourself or that boy over there is gonna wake up to learn you’re not here for him, okay?”

“What?” Connor yelps. “Am I  _ dying _ ?”

The nurse looks horribly guilty. “You’re not doing so hot, sweetie. We need to keep your heart rate down okay? You’ve put yourself through a lot the last couple of days, okay, and your body is saying no more. So I need you to promise me you’re going to take it easy and let us look after you.”

“Something’s wrong with my heart?” Connor asks breathlessly. 

The nurse sighs. “You’ve been experiencing some arrhythmia. It’s not uncommon for people who are ED but if you don’t try to relax you can put too much stress on your heart and do serious damage okay? So I need you to try to relax.”

Connor looks at him, not understanding. “ED?”

“Eating disorder,” the nurse says. 

Connor shrinks back against his pillows. 

Feels. So fucking stupid. 

“I was getting better,” he whispers. “I was. But it’s… everything just keeps happening.”

“Okay,” the nurse says. He pats Connor’s shoulder. “It’s gonna be okay. Just. Try to relax. Please. Do it for your guy over there okay? He needs you around so he can get better.”

Connor takes a shuddering breath. 

Nods his head. 

The nurse makes some notes in Connor’s charts. “I’m gonna make sure that starting tomorrow you’re talking to the hospital psych staff okay? I dunno why you’re not up on ten…” 

The tenth floor is the psych ward. Connor’s been there before. 

“But I’ll make sure you’re getting a chance to go to group and have your individual meetings okay.” He nods his head. “Tomorrow. Okay?”

Connor swallows hard. 

Looks at Evan, broken and hurt. 

“Okay.”

* * *

The hospital staff seem to have given up on trying to tell Heidi to go home. They’ve just accepted that there’s going to be an adult in this room keeping an eye on their kids in intensive care for the foreseeable future. 

Good, she thinks. Saves them the effort of arguing. 

She and Larry put together a plan. One of them will be with Evan and Connor, the other one with Zoe. Given that Evan’s condition is more serious, Heidi’s managed to convince Larry that she’ll be there most nights but concedes that she needs to take time away from the hospital sometimes.

“If anything happens to Evan,” Larry tells her firmly, “and I’m there and you’re not, I will call you.”

“I know you will,” Heidi tells him. “I trust you.”

There’s a lot of waiting involved. Connor sleeps on and off, and Evan’s just… out. The doctors say it’s a good sign that he spoke. That he recognized Connor. 

It’s a good sign. 

Connor’s sleeping the next time Evan wakes up. They’ve moved the beds a little so Connor’s not directly in Evan’s line of sight. When Evan opens his non-swollen eye, he seems disoriented for a while, then his gaze lands on Heidi. 

“Mom?”

Heidi’s heart clenches painfully. “No, sweetheart,” she says, a little helplessly. “It’s Heidi.”

Evan blinks heavily. Moves his head a little, slow like molasses. Looks around, confusion clear on his bruised face. “Where’s… my mom?”

Heidi tries not to cry. Tries desperately not to cry. “Sweetheart, it’s Heidi,” she says gently. “Your mom’s not here, it’s just me.”

Evan blinks again. His hand moves, like he’s trying to reach out. 

Heidi takes his hand and holds it, rubbing her fingers softly over his knuckles. 

“Mom’s… dead,” he says, in that same slow, weak voice. 

She lets out a sob. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

Evan squeezes her hand back feebly. “Heidi?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s me.”

From the other side of the room, Heidi notices Connor’s eyes are open. He’s sitting up, eyes wide, relief on his face. She looks back at Evan. 

“Want… Heidi,” Evan slurs, with obvious effort. He looks so young. “Want Heidi to… to be my mom, she’s… good at… being a mom.”

Heidi thinks her heart is going to explode from everything she’s feeling right now. 

She’s just… feeling so much.

“There’s nothing I want more,” she tells him, squeezing his hand gently, feeling tears flow down her face. “Nothing I want more than to be your mom, Evan. You’ve gotta get better so I can, okay? Just rest. I love you so much, you are so, so loved. You are so loved, you hear me, kid? So, so, so loved.”

“You love me?” Evan says, this slow, lazy smile on his face. “You… you want to keep me?”

“Absolutely,” Heidi promises him. “And I’ll do everything I can to keep you. Everything I can.”

Evan closes his eyes. “Tired,” he mumbles. “Feel… weird, I feel weird.”

“You’ve been through a lot,” Heidi tells him softly. “Go back to sleep. I love you.”

“You’ll stay?”

Heidi nods, even though she knows his eyes are closed. “I’ll stay. I’m not going anywhere. I love you.”

Evan’s breathing evens out. 

He’s still smiling. 

She stifles a sob. Tries to stop from falling apart, not in front of Connor whose eyes she can feel on her. 

Not in front of Evan, even though he’s sleeping again. 

She might not get to keep him. 

They could take him away from her.

Nothing’s set in stone, but it’s possible. It’s possible they’ll remove him from her care. 

And it’s still early days. She could still lose him, she…

“We won’t let them take him away.”

Heidi looks over to see Connor looking at her, his eyes wet, his face determined. 

“My dad will help,” Connor continues, and he sounds young and terrified, but he’s got that stubborn look on his face he used to wear as a kid. “You and Dad are both lawyers. You’ll figure it out, you’ll convince them. They won’t take him away.”

She wants to tell him that there’s no way for him to know that. 

Wants to tell him he needs to be prepared. 

But Connor’s in a hospital bed, too. This kid she’s known his whole life, who she saw grow up, is in a hospital bed, here because he took too many drugs to try to deal with the pain he was in. The pain from almost losing Evan. From seeing Evan like this. 

He loves Evan so much. 

So damn much. 

Heidi nods. Wipes her face. 

“We’ll figure it out,” she says determinedly. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”

Connor obeys. Closes his eyes. 

Heidi takes a tissue and wipes her face. Her eyes are sore from how much crying she’s been doing. 

“He’s right, you know.” 

Connor’s eyes are still closed. His voice is slurred. But he’s still talking. 

“He was right. You’re good at being a mom.”

* * *

Larry takes the night shift again. His mother arrives in the morning and Heidi resists going home but eventually agrees when Larry asks her to please check on Zoe. 

It’s impossible for him to choose between his children. 

But Zoe’s not the one in the hospital. So the decision is made for him. 

Connor seems worse today. He’s jittery and clearly exhausted but fights sleep like a petulant toddler. He keeps saying he’s sure Evan’s going to wake up again. 

“He freaked out last time because he was worried about me,” Connor insists. “I can’t let him worry about me like that.”

Larry lets Connor sit in a chair at Evan’s bedside rather than argue. He knows better but Connor is stubborn and he’s hurting so Larry can’t bring himself to deny him. 

But eventually, Connor sags against Larry’s shoulder and he decides enough is enough. 

He ends up picking Connor up and carrying him back to bed. 

It’s wrong. 

His kid is over six feet tall. He shouldn’t be so easy to pick up. 

Connor doesn’t resist though. He murmurs something incomprehensible and is out totally once he’s settled back into bed. 

The doctors look in on him. Say that he ate his entire tray at lunch but that he struggled with dinner. 

Larry nods. 

They agree that he’s going to be put back on the feeding tube in the morning. They need to try to stabilize him and help him to gain back some of the weight he lost. 

They want to move Connor to the psychiatric floor, but Larry worries that will only make Connor more resistant to being treated. They agree that Connor will start attending group and meeting some of the psych staff in the next few days. 

Connor sleeps. 

Larry watches and wishes he could actually do something to help him. 

He’s helpless. 

He hates that. 

Larry starts to feel himself doze sometime after one in the morning when he hears a noise that startles him back awake. 

“Mom?”

It’s Evan. His one eye is still swollen shut but the other is wide open. He looks terrified. 

“Hey buddy,” Larry says gently. “It’s Larry. Connor’s dad?”

“Where’s…?” He looks around. “Wasn’t she here?”

“I’m sorry bud. Your mom wasn’t here.”

Evan looks devastated. “I knew she… didn’t want me.” He blinks sadly at Larry. “Miss her.”

Larry doesn’t know what to say to this poor kid. His mother died when he was seven. She killed herself when he was still so little. 

He looks small in this hospital bed. Young and small and hurt. 

Larry takes his hand. “Your mom loves you so much,” Larry tells him. “And so does Heidi. And Connor too. So you’ve got people.”

“Connor?” Evan whispers. “Is he mad at me?”

Larry shakes his head. “No buddy. He’s not angry. Just worried about you.”

“It was… two on one,” he says miserably. “Mom doesn’t believe me…”

It takes a moment. 

But Larry realizes. 

Evan’s talking about Heidi. He’s calling her his mom. 

“She believes you, Evan. She believes you. She just got scared.”

“Not gonna… want me. Not gonna keep… I’m gonna miss her so much.”

“Nobody is going to take you away from Heidi,” Larry says. “I swear.”

Evan sighs. Frowns. “Is… he mad? Connor?”

“No bud. He’s not mad.”

“Should be,” Evan says softly. “‘M stupid. Shouldn’t have… fought back. Should’ve been… smarter.”

Larry shakes his head. “Nobody’s upset with you about that.”

Evan blinks and looks around. “Want my mom,” he says. “Want… want Heidi. To be my… my mom.”

“She wants that too, Evan. There’s nothing she wants more.”

That seems to settle him a little. 

“Feel… fuzzy.”

“You’re hurt pretty bad, bud.”

Evan blinks a few times. Slowly. His eyelids flicker. “Don’t wanna… go.”

“You don’t have to,” Larry tells him. “Just try to rest, okay? Try to rest for now.”

Evan sighs again. 

Closes his good eye. 

Larry’s heart breaks for this kid. For his kid too. They’ve been through far too much shit these past few weeks. 

It scares him a little. 

The recklessness of Evan’s taking off to see his dad. 

The recklessness of Connor taking off after Evan. He tries to be reasonable. Think about himself at seventeen. There wasn’t much Larry wouldn’t have done for his friends when he was that age. 

Connor went and confronted Mark on his own. 

Hurt him pretty badly, according to the police. They picked Mark up. He was sitting passed out in his car. Like he meant to try to get away but couldn’t. 

Maybe he couldn’t bring himself to. 

Or maybe he was just too drunk to drive. 

Connor confronted him. Hurt him. The only reason Connor isn’t being charged with assault is because of the damage Mark did to Evan. The ADA knows that their case would get thrown out by any judge worth their salt. Connor was provoked. The action wasn’t premeditated. Connor was there to get Evan and found Mark instead. 

But still. It scares the shit out of Larry. The lengths Connor is prepared to go to help Evan. 

He put his life on the line for this other boy. 

And it scares the shit out of Larry. That his son is so reckless with his life. 

Before long Larry is sure Evan is asleep. His hand goes limp in Larry’s. 

But Larry stays for a little while longer. 

Watches Evan sleep. 

Watches Connor. 

Prays they’ll both be alright. 

He can’t imagine one without the other. They’ve become a unit now. 

Larry needs them both to be alright. 

He needs them both to be okay or he knows neither of them will ever be the same again. 

* * *

Zoe’s mom is gone. Her dad is at the hospital. 

She’s sleeping in the guest room at Heidi’s house. So Heidi can keep an eye on her. 

Zoe hates it. 

But at least nobody is talking about making her go to school like this. 

Which is good because she would absolutely freak out if someone tried to make her go back to school right now. 

She almost got Connor killed. 

They don’t get along but she doesn’t want him  _ dead.  _ She just…

She knew better than to buy shit off of Jared. 

She knew better than to be around Jared after what happened between them. 

She’s so stupid. 

So damn stupid. 

Connor almost died. 

Evan almost died. 

And Zoe… came out to her mom? 

God, she’s so selfish and stupid. 

She’s so stupid. 

She can’t actually make herself go to sleep in Heidi’s guest room. 

It makes her think too much about being little. David and Heidi watched her and Connor a lot when they were young. They would have slumber parties. David would let them get all hopped up on sugar and build blanket forts with them in the living room. 

She misses Uncle David sometimes. 

He was a funny guy. Kind. 

Maybe a little weird. 

He always used to hide money in their presents. 

Zoe can’t sleep. She can’t. 

She creeps out of the house once she’s sure Heidi is in bed for the evening. Heads into the pool house. 

Hers. Not Heidi’s. 

She can’t even look at the couch. That was where Connor walked in on her and Sabrina…

He never told anyone. 

He kept his mouth shut. 

Connor didn’t have to do that. He could have told. Could have made life hell for her. 

Zoe finds a pack of cigarettes hidden in the pool house. She smokes one, ashing into a bowl of potpourri her mom keeps in here. 

Zoe hates this. Hates everything. 

Sabrina hates her. 

Because Zoe loves her but can’t love her the way she wants. 

She can’t just be with Sabrina. Give up her entire life. It’s not that simple, it’s not that easy. Look at what happens to you when you give up your life for someone. You marry a woman still in love with her ex. You drink yourself to sleep because someone you love is dead and gone. You try to hurt yourself. You fight a man who nearly killed someone twice as strong as you. It saps you of logic, makes you stupid and impulsive. Zoe can’t afford to be that way. Zoe can’t afford to be that kind of… vulnerable. 

Zoe just can’t imagine it. Can’t imagine being brave enough to hold Sabrina’s hand in the hallways or have them be together like that. Publicly. In front of people. 

It makes her a coward. 

She knows this. 

She’s never been brave. Not like Connor is. 

He never cared what people thought of him. 

She never used to care. 

But now? 

Now it’s all she cares about. 

What other people think. 

* * *

Sabrina doesn’t sleep at all. Just… doesn’t sleep. 

She hasn’t seen Connor since Monday. She hasn’t seen Zoe since Tuesday, and even then she’s not sure if she didn’t just fucking imagine her. She’d looked completely wrecked, completely devastated, and Sabrina has no idea what’s going on. 

She texts and she texts and she texts and no one replies. Not Connor, not Zoe. 

Not Evan, obviously, because Evan…

Evan could be dead. And she just wouldn’t know. 

No one will tell her. 

On Tuesday, she walked past Zoe’s locker to find that someone had graffitied it. Graffitied it with words that nearly made Sabrina’s heart stop. 

_ ‘ZOE MURPHY IS A DYKE’. _

Sabrina hadn’t cared if anyone was watching. Hadn’t cared if someone saw. She’d walked straight over, taken hand sanitizer and some Kleenex out of her bag, and gotten rid of it as quickly as she could. 

This is the last fucking thing Zoe needs right now. 

She’d shown up at the Murphy household on Tuesday after school to check on Zoe and Connor, and there’d been no one there. The same on Wednesday. 

So she’d decided that to stop herself from going fucking crazy, she’d try again on Thursday morning. Go over early enough that they’d have to be home. 

Someone would have to be there and tell her what the fuck’s going on. 

It’s barely 6am when Sabrina leaves the house. Way too early, she knows, but if she shows up with Starbucks, then maybe it won’t be so bad. She picks up a skinny vanilla iced latte for Zoe. A toffee nut latte for Connor, because she’s seen him order one before. She just gets a plain coffee with cream and asks them to make it as strong as they can, because she’s so fucking tired. 

When she gets to the Murphy house, it feels empty. 

She rings the doorbell anyway. 

A million times. 

No one answers. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

Heidi might be at her place, she thinks desperately. 

She’s probably at the hospital. Probably staying there. 

But Sabrina’s out of options, so she drives down the driveway, then up to Heidi’s place. Rings the doorbell. 

Heidi answers almost immediately. She looks exhausted. Completely wrecked.

“Sabrina?”

“Hi,” she says, a little awkwardly. “I, uh…” Embarrassingly, she feels her eyes sting. “I’m so sorry to bother you so early but Zoe and Connor haven’t been in school and no one’s been answering my texts and I just want to know that everyone’s okay? Given everything that happened with Evan, I…” She blinks. Swallows hard. “Do you know if they’re okay?”

“Zoe’s staying here,” Heidi says, opening the door and ushering Sabrina in. She looks so fucking sad. “Connor’s in the hospital.”

Sabrina can only stare in horror as Heidi explains what happened. 

Explains that Connor  _ overdosed _ . 

Oh god. 

Oh  _ god. _

“Is he going to be okay?” Sabrina asks, not caring about how desperate her voice sounds. 

Heidi hesitates for a moment. “He needs to be careful,” she says, her voice equally careful. “He…” Her shoulders sag. “What happened on Monday night put a lot of pressure on his heart and his kidneys, which were already… not great.”

Sabrina knows she’s tearing up. “Because he doesn’t eat?”

Heidi doesn’t even look surprised. She just nods. 

Sabrina nods back. 

After a moment, she hands Heidi the toffee nut latte. Heidi looks surprised, but thanks her. 

Sabrina’s about to ask if she can wait around until Zoe wakes up when Zoe’s walking down the stairs. She’s in sweatpants and a t-shirt, her hair in a ponytail, and she looks completely exhausted. 

But still beautiful. Still so goddamn beautiful. 

_ “I love you but that doesn’t change… everything.” _

Zoe’s eyes go wide when she sees Sabrina. Light up with something Sabrina thinks might be hope. 

But that fades quickly. 

Sabrina holds out the drink. “I got you coffee.”

Zoe makes it down the stairs and takes the drink off Sabrina, something hesitant in the way she moves. “Thank you.”

Heidi smiles a little. “I’m going to go shower,” she says. “I’ll let you two have a moment.”

Zoe gestures for Sabrina to follow her and they head to the kitchen. Take a seat at the kitchen island. 

Heidi’s house is basically exactly the same as the Murphys’ house. As Sabrina’s house. 

Sabrina had legitimately never noticed it until Evan pointed it out at lunch a few weeks back. 

“Heidi told me what happened,” Sabrina says once it’s obvious that she’s going to have to be the one to speak first. “To Connor.”

Zoe looks so pale she’s almost gray. “Did she tell you the drugs were mine?”

Sabrina’s heart sinks. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

“No,” Sabrina manages to reply. “She didn’t.”

Zoe wraps her arms around her middle. Looks at the counter. Lets out this bitter laugh. “Yeah, well, they were. I nearly killed my brother.” She blinks. “In case you wanted another reason to hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

Zoe sniffs. “You do,” she says, a little petulantly. “You should.” 

“I don’t,” Sabrina says quietly. She sighs. “I don’t… I don’t hate you. I don’t think I could if I tried.” She bites her lip. “I… you shouldn’t have to go through all of this alone.”

Zoe’s head snaps up. She looks Sabrina in the eye, clearly confused. 

“What are you saying?”

Sabrina hates herself a little for this. 

More than a little. 

“I’m here for you,” she says, slowly and carefully. “And I…” She sighs. “Look, I know that I basically tanked my whole social status, so if you don’t want to be seen around me at school when you go back, then that’s…” She swallows hard. “I can live with that. Through all of… this.” 

Zoe’s eyes are wide. Sabrina doesn’t know what she’s thinking. 

And then Zoe’s kissing her. 

Zoe’s leaned over and is kissing her, and it’s perfect, and Sabrina’s missed this so much, so fucking much, she could kiss Zoe forever, it’s better than any high, it’s better than anything, it’s-

“I love you,” Zoe says breathlessly. “I love you I love you I love you.”

Sabrina’s heart catches up to her head. 

It clicks. 

“As your friend,” she says gently. “I’m here for you as your friend, Zoe. I still… I still can’t be your dirty secret. I can’t be…” She closes her eyes. Wills herself not to cry. “I can’t imagine how terrifying everything is for you right now. How much you must be hurting. And I love you so much that I can’t… I can’t bear the idea of leaving you alone through this. I can’t leave you alone through this. But I can’t…”

She opens her eyes. 

Zoe’s crying quietly. Nodding. 

“I get it,” Zoe mumbles. 

“I’m not trying to be cruel,” Sabrina tries desperately to explain. “I’m not. But I came out for a reason. I came out because I needed to be honest about who I really am.”

“And everyone’s been awful to you,” Zoe protests. “Ever since you did.”

“Not everyone,” Sabrina says gently. “I’ve got people who understand. Who see me. And I’m… happier.”

Zoe blinks. Her eyelashes are wet. “You… you are?”

“I am,” Sabrina confirms. She wants to make this make sense, wants what she’s saying to land. “I’m not saying it’s been easy. I don’t exactly love that people write DYKE on my locker all the time. My mom hasn’t said a word to me since I came out. Just… full-on silent treatment.” She shrugs. “Well, actually it hasn’t been that bad, it’s better than her being a huge bitch all the time.” She bites her lip. “Losing you… has been the worst thing about it. The absolute worst. I miss you all the time. All the fucking time.”

“Then how can you say you’re happier?” Zoe demands. “You’re happier being bullied? You’re happier… you’re happier without me?”

Sabrina closes her eyes again. 

If she looks at Zoe while she says this, she might not be brave enough to. 

Fuck, she’s never brave face to face like this. There’s a reason she came out via MySpace bulletin. 

“I love you,” she says, her eyes still closed. “I love you so much. I’ve never felt the way I feel about you about anyone else. I don’t have the words to express what I feel for you, Zoe.” She takes in a deep breath. “But if I let myself be your secret, I’d be going back in the closet. And I can’t do that. I can’t… I can’t compartmentalize myself like that, I’d be ripping myself into pieces if I did that.”

It’s quiet.

Sabrina opens her eyes and wills herself to be brave. 

“I love you, Zoe,” she says, looking her in the eye. “But I won’t rip myself apart for you. I won’t… make myself smaller for you. I love you, but I love myself more.”

* * *

Sabrina just. She doesn’t  _ get it.  _ That Zoe just… can’t. She’s not brave or smart or funny. 

She’s not like her brother. She can’t just… throw caution to the wind, let whatever happens happen. Look at what’s happened to him. 

If he thinks it’s unrelated to the way people look at him, then he’s delusional. 

Zoe’s not smart. Not funny. Not particularly good at anything. Her family is a mess. 

She’s… well, she  _ was  _ popular. 

She doesn’t know if she still is. 

All she has going for her is a very tight grip on whatever social status she might still have left. 

How can Sabrina not see that asking her to commit social suicide is totally unfair? 

She’s asking Zoe to give up the only thing she’s got left. 

It’s not romantic, it’s moronic. It’s the exact reason Zoe thinks  _ Romeo and Juliet _ is stupid. Why would you throw away a cushy and comfortable life for someone like that? 

Why don’t they care what people think? 

Look, Zoe’s gotten all of the peer pressure lectures everyone else has. She knows the whole song and dance about how what other people think doesn’t matter. 

But it does. 

And people are full of shit if they think it doesn’t. 

“I…” she tries to say to Sabrina. “I don’t. You don’t know what you’re asking me to give up.”

Sabrina’s eyes narrow. “What would you be giving up? Madison Whittington?  _ Jared?  _ Those people are  _ assholes, _ Zoe.”

“Yeah well I’m  _ like  _ them,” she says. 

“You’re not,” Sabrina insists. 

“I am!” Zoe says. She shakes her head. “I’m not better than them because I love you. We’re cut from the same cloth.” 

“How can you say that?”

Zoe balls her hands into fists. “Because I  _ know _ . Okay? I know people like… like Evan and my brother and Alana Beck think I’m shallow and weak and I’m sure you’ve told them all about how much of a coward you think I am. But they’ve… they’ve never had what I have.”

Sabrina frowns. “And what’s that?”

Zoe shakes her head. “People… look at me. People care what I’m doing.”

“They don’t  _ really  _ care,” Sabrina insists. 

“You can’t sit here and tell me that you don’t care about that stuff. You can’t. You used to want it too. You wanted to be…”

“Popular?”

“Well, yeah,” Zoe says, hurt by her disdainful tone. “You think I don’t know why you even started talking to me? I’m Cynthia Nichols’s daughter. I… I matter around here.”

Sabrina recoils like she’s been slapped. 

“I just… you’re not being  _ fair, _ ” Zoe insists. “You have… you have other friends. You have stuff you care about, stuff you’re good at. Me? This is the only thing I have.”

“That’s bullshit,” Sabrina says. “You’re a super talented musician-”

“That’s not even a thing!” Zoe says. “You what? Want me to cut off all of my hair and get a nose ring and start playing guitar at school? Will that make me gay enough for you then?” She’s crying. “I’m not… that’s not who I am.”

”But this… fake popular girl who can’t get through a party sober isn’t you either!”

“What if it is?” Zoe says. “What if that’s who I really am?”

“It’s not!”

Zoe crosses her arms. “I’m not like you. I can’t be… I can’t.”

“But why  _ not _ ?” Sabrina says. “You really think that you wouldn’t still have people who care about you if you’re not popular anymore? What about me? And your brother, and Evan?”

“Evan is in the hospital because his dad is a homophobic  _ monster, _ ” Zoe says. “And he… Evan hates me. He doesn’t care about me.”

“So. So what… your brother? Me? We’re not enough?”

Zoe’s just crying. She can’t stop. “I wish it were…”

Sabrina looks disgusted. 

“I almost  _ killed  _ him,” Zoe whispers. “I almost killed my brother. I don’t think he’s gonna come rushing to my defense if people are  _ mean  _ to me Sabrina.”

“He loves you,” Sabrina says. 

“Maybe he shouldn’t,” Zoe says. “And maybe you shouldn’t either.”

Sabrina tries to backtrack. “You’re… you’re upset. It’s early. You’re not thinking-”

“I am so tired,” Zoe says. “I can’t do anything right. I can’t. I try to do the right thing and it all backfires. So maybe I just want to… to do what’s easy. Can’t I just let something be easy?”

Sabrina shakes her head. “But it’s not easy,” she says. “You’re… you’re killing yourself trying to fit in. And I’m scared for you. When a couple of pills or a few drinks can’t make it easy anymore, then what happens?”

Zoe shrugs helplessly. “I don’t… I don’t know.”

“I love you,” Sabrina says again. “And I meant what I said. I’m here for you. You need a friend right now and that’s what I can do.”

“We weren’t ever  _ really _ friends,” Zoe sniffles. 

“Well. We will be now. Okay?”

But Zoe doesn’t want that. She doesn’t. She’s never wanted that. Not since the first time she and Sabrina kissed. 

But if she tries to get what she wants, everything else will collapse like a house of cards. If she does it, there’s no safety net. Nobody to catch her when she falls. 

What if she can’t get back up?

What if the thing she’s most scared of isn’t that she’s like her brother but that she’s not? That if people got to her, she wouldn’t get back up again. 

It scares the shit out of her. 

It scares her so much… 

Sabrina pulls her into a hug. Hands her a tissue to wipe her eyes. 

Looks at her watch. “Look I’m sorry. I need to get to school.”

“Okay,” Zoe says miserably. 

“I’ll text you okay?” She says. “Please text me back this time?”

“Okay.”

And then Sabrina’s gone. 

And Zoe is sitting alone in Heidi’s kitchen crying. 

She’s not strong enough to handle this. To do this. She’s never been strong. She used to run crying to her dad whenever she saw a bug. Even a ladybug. Even something harmless and not even gross. 

She’s not brave or strong or smart. 

She’s just… 

A mess. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic and chapter title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.


	52. I Will Follow You Into the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan tells the truth, and Connor makes a hard decision.

Larry’s mother’s flight is delayed by bad weather. She ends up stranded in Denver overnight. Ends up flying into LAX early on Thursday morning. 

Larry wants to go and pick her up, be a dutiful son, but Connor had a bad night. 

He woke up  _ screaming.  _

Had to be sedated to get him back to sleep. The doctors had to restrain him again. He ripped out his IV line trying to get up and talk to Evan. 

Larry couldn’t stop him. Connor is a strong kid despite how thin he is, and when he’s upset it’s like trying to wrestle with a python. He’s fast and strong and he caught Larry on the chin with a flailing fist, not making sense, still trapped in the throes of his nightmare, swearing he wouldn’t let Larry hurt Evan. 

It’s only once he’s sedated and restrained that he even seems to realize that Mark isn’t there. That nobody is trying to hurt him or Evan. 

And then Connor just breaks down and cries until he falls asleep. 

So Larry can’t leave to pick up his mother. She insists that his apology is not needed. Tells him she will head straight to the hospital to see Connor and then she’ll come home with Larry so they can check on Zoe together. 

Larry feels utterly helpless. He doesn’t know how to help his kids through this. He definitely doesn’t know how to do it alone. 

His mother arrives just after nine o’clock. She looks like she always has. Steel gray hair cut short, steely expression to match. 

“You look like shite, love,” she tells him when she sees Larry. 

He can’t argue with that assessment. 

“Go and fetch us some coffee? I’ll keep an eye on things here.” She glances between Connor and then Evan. “This is him? Heidi’s boy?”

Larry nods. “That’s Evan, yes.”

She clicks her tongue sympathetically. “Poor dear,” she says. She settles in the chair beside Connor’s bed. “I’ve asked Father Matthews to dedicate mass to their recovery this week. I know you’re not much for your faith these days, but I thought you ought to know there are people pulling for you.”

Larry excuses himself to get them coffee. 

He’s a grown man but there is something undeniably comforting about his mother coming all the way here to help. He feels a little like she’s saving him. Saving them all. 

When he returns with the coffees, Connor is awake. Larry’s mother has set herself about undoing Connor’s restraints. 

Part of Larry wants to protest, suddenly scared that Connor could do real damage to her, she has osteoporosis for god’s sake, but his mother pulls Connor into a hug and he just hugs her back. 

“I didn’t know you were coming,” Connor says to her quietly. 

“Oh don’t talk nonsense, chicken, of course I’m here.”

Larry smiles weakly. She’s always called the kids chickens. He has no idea why. 

Connor sits back in bed and frowns slightly. “What day is it?”

“Thursday,” Larry says. 

Connor wrinkles his nose. Larry can practically  _ hear  _ him counting. Technically speaking, the 5150 order will expire today. 

But Connor seems to be realizing that this doesn’t mean he’s getting out of here. He looks at Larry, his eyes dull. “How long are they going to keep me here?”

Larry sighs. “That’s up to you, bud. You haven’t exactly been a model patient.”

He frowns deeper. 

Larry’s lost. He’s so lost. 

* * *

Connor lets his granny fuss. 

She adjusts his pillows and talks about her awful travel experience and asks him if he’s cold and Connor wouldn’t put it past her to just. Like. Start knitting him a sweater right then and there. 

He actually smiles when she settles into her chair and pulls out something in progress from her bag. Starts working, her knitting needles clicking. 

His dad seems better now that she’s here. 

“You look miserable, chicken,” she tells Connor plainly. 

He is. He’s miserable. 

Connor hangs his head. 

“Tell me about Heidi’s boy then. Is he your boyfriend now?”

Connor doesn’t even have the energy to unpack the fact that apparently someone has told his grandmother that he’s gay. He shrugs. Shakes his head. “I don’t… I don’t think so. He’s my best friend.”

His granny nods. “Is he a good boy?”

Connor doesn’t know what she means. “He. Uh. I dunno he’s  _ Jewish _ .”

His granny cracks a smile. “I mean, he’s not trying to get you into trouble all the time like that other boy did, is he?”

Other boy?

Oh right. M. They met a few times. 

Granny never liked him. 

Said he lacked moral fiber. 

“Mostly we keep each other out of trouble,” Connor says quietly. 

“Good. You need someone like that. With his head on straight.” She looks over at Evan.

They both seem to be thinking the same thing: if Evan had his head on straight, he wouldn’t be here. 

Granny keeps knitting. 

Her fingers are quick and thorough and decisive. “Well. I’ll be excited to meet him properly when he wakes up.”

Connor nods mutely. He doesn’t have anything to add. 

“So your father and I will go back to your house in a little while,” she says. Connor likes listening to her talk. Likes listening to her lilting accent and no-nonsense voice. “So we can see your sister.”

Connor’s relieved. Zoe didn’t seem great when she came to visit yesterday. 

“Make sure she’s… alright?” Connor says softly. “Please. She feels guilty…”

“Not sure that can be helped, chicken.”

Connor goes to respond when Evan’s voice startled him. 

“Don’t… he’s  _ not _ … A chicken,” he says, his voice slow and tired and shaky. “He’s brave.”

Granny glances at Evan. Her face curves into a smile. “Of course not,” she says. “He’s very brave.”

“Yeah…” Evan murmurs. “He’s… kick your ass if you… call him. A. Chicken.”

But then his eyes slip closed again and he’s gone once more. Back to sleep. 

Connor is relieved to see he’s resting mostly. 

Granny looks up over her knitting to meet Connor’s eye line. “I like him already,” she says quietly. “Need more people who’ll come to your defense.”

* * *

Heidi doesn’t know if she’s doing the right thing. Not really. But she’s doing the best she can. 

She gets back downstairs from her shower to find Zoe in tears in the kitchen. Pulls her into a hug and lets her cry for what feels like hours. When Zoe’s finally out of tears, Heidi gently suggests she go have a shower and get changed and tells her she’ll take her out for breakfast. 

Zoe seems skeptical. “You should go to the hospital,” she says forlornly. “Don’t waste your time hanging out with me.”

“We’ll go together,” Heidi assures her. “I’m not wasting my time.”

For a moment, it looks like Zoe’s going to burst into tears again, but she gives a wobbly smile then heads upstairs. 

Maybe twenty minutes later, Zoe’s coming downstairs in jeans, a t-shirt, and a hoodie, her hair still wet. 

Everyone seems to be going for low maintenance these days. 

For Orange County, it’s a definite break from tradition. 

When they leave the house, Heidi sees a box by the front door. She picks it up and examines it. It’s addressed to her and Evan. She recognizes the return address immediately. 

She hands it to Zoe when they get into the car. Zoe looks at it, her face pale. 

“Who’s L. Zimmermann?” Zoe asks as Heidi pulls out of the driveway. 

“My friend Laurel,” Heidi explains. “She lives in D.C.”

They end up at the diner near the beach house where Heidi and David used to eat all the time. The diner Heidi and Evan have been to countless times now. 

The diner where they had a celebration meal after Evan won the essay competition.

Fuck. 

That feels like so long ago now when it was barely a few weeks. 

Zoe brings the box inside and once they’ve ordered food, Heidi opens it. It’s full of candy, which is typical Laurel, but there are other things in there, too, including another box that’s gift-wrapped with Evan’s name on it. The wrapping paper is covered in a cheerful ‘Happy Birthday!’ all over, and it’s bright blue. 

Heidi can feel Zoe’s eyes on her. “When’s Evan’s birthday?” she asks, her voice a little shaky. 

“It was on Monday,” Heidi replies. She pulls out her phone. “I need to call Laurel, I… I haven’t told her what happened, I won’t be long.”

Zoe’s face falls and she nods. Heidi heads out of the diner and stands outside. 

It’s a brief phone call. Laurel sounds heartbroken when Heidi tells her what happened. 

Completely heartbroken. 

Laurel keeps apologizing that she’s in the middle of something huge at work and can’t drop everything to fly to California. “I’d be there if I could.”

“I know,” Heidi says shakily. “I know, I…” She rubs her face. “I’m not asking you to, but I appreciate it.”

“I got Evan an iPod,” she says after a moment. “I didn’t put any music on it because I don't know what he’s into. But given the situation, he might appreciate some music, once he’s healed a little more.”

“I’ll figure it out,” Heidi says determinedly. “I don't really know how, but I’m sure I can find someone who does.”

When she gets back inside, their food has arrived. Zoe’s staring at her pancakes like they’re completely foreign to her. Heidi gets the feeling. She isn’t exactly hungry either, but she knows she has to eat. 

She needs to keep her strength up if she’s going to survive this. 

Because she’s going to survive this. And so is Evan.

They manage to eat their meals. Zoe takes a little longer. Heidi opens Evan’s present while Zoe finishes her pancakes. Has a good look at the iPod and everything in the box. Eventually finds the instruction leaflet and has a read. 

“I can help,” Zoe offers after a while. “Get it, like, set up or whatever.” Heidi looks at her. Zoe offers her a weak smile. “Connor knows what kind of music Evan likes, but I can help with getting it set up.”

Heidi feels a lump in her throat. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

They get to the hospital a little bit before ten. Heidi’s told that there are already the maximum number of people in Evan and Connor’s room, so is instructed to wait in the waiting area. It doesn’t take long before Larry’s there, along with his mom. 

Fuck. Heidi hadn’t even remembered Larry’s mom was coming. 

She knows Larry told her, but it just hadn’t stuck in her head. 

Agnes Murphy pulls Zoe into a tight hug immediately, all but running toward her, and Larry smiles weakly at Heidi. 

“We were just going to head back to the house,” he says quietly.

“How are they?” Heidi asks immediately.

Larry’s face falls. “Connor had a bad night,” he admits. He looks so fucking defeated. “Woke up screaming.”

Heidi’s heart aches at that. Fuck. 

Larry looks at her. “No change with Evan,” he continues. “He’s woken up a few times for a couple of minutes, but nothing longer than that.” Something in his face twists. “He asked after you.”

Heidi feels her eyes sting instantly. “He did?”

Larry nods. “He says he wants you to be his mom.”

The stinging in her eyes turns to tears pretty quickly. “He said that to me, too,” she confesses. “And you know I…”

Larry pulls her into a hug. “I know.”

When they finally pull away, Larry’s mom looks over to Heidi. She’s pale, but she puts on a determined expression. “Your boy is going to be alright,” she says, and her Irish accent and calm manner makes Heidi think that she’s telling the truth. 

“Thank you, Mrs. Murphy.”

Larry’s mom rolls her eyes. “You’re an adult, Heidi, call me Agnes.” She pats Heidi’s arm comfortingly. “You get in there and see the boys. We’ll head home for a bit, but I’ll send Larry back later today with a nice hot homemade meal for you, alright chicken?”

“That’s very kind,” Heidi replies, wiping her face. 

Agnes pats her arm again. Smiles sadly. 

“You just keep being strong for your boy, Heidi. We’ll get through this together.”

Heidi fights back the urge to just burst into tears herself. 

Mrs. Murphy has always been kind to her. She’s glad she’s here. 

Both boys are asleep when Heidi gets into the ICU room. She pulls a book out of her bag and starts reading in her seat next to Evan’s bedside. 

This is as good a time as any to work her way through David’s book collection. She’s been meaning to do it, ever since he died. 

She’s never been much of a reader, but David always was. 

Connor wakes up after nearly an hour. 

He looks exhausted. There are dark circles under his eyes and he’s shivering a bit. 

Heidi takes an extra blanket and puts it over him wordlessly. Connor just stares at her while she’s doing it, then thanks her quietly. 

“How is Evan?”

“He’s still out,” Heidi tells him gently. 

Connor’s face falls a little, but he nods. “He should be resting.”

“It’s the best thing for him right now,” Heidi agrees. She takes a seat next to Connor’s bed and takes his hand. Squeezes it genty. “How are you, sweetheart?”

Connor scrunches up his face. “I’m okay.”

“I’ve known you since you were born,” Heidi reminds him. “You’ve always been a terrible liar.”

Connor laughs a little. Sags back on his pillows. “Is Zoe okay?”

Heidi’s heart sinks. “She’s having a rough time,” she admits. “Sabrina came to visit her this morning before school. I think they talked. Zoe was… pretty upset.”

Connor looks so sad. “Does Sabrina know I’m here?”

Heidi nods. 

Connor sighs. Rubs his face. “I fucked up so badly, Aunt Heidi, I…”

“You were hurting,” Heidi says gently when he doesn’t finish. “You made a mistake. And yeah, it was pretty fucking stupid, but that’s not what’s important right now. What’s important is that you heal.” She swallows hard. “That both of you heal.”

Connor’s face crumbles. He takes in a deep breath. Lets it out. 

“He knew what he was doing.”

Heidi frowns. “What do you mean?”

Connor closes his eyes. “He knew what would happen. When he went to Chino, he…”

Heidi’s heart is beating too fast. Far too fast. “We don’t really know what he was thinking,” she says, a little desperately. “When he’s recovered a bit more, then maybe we can talk about it.”

Connor doesn’t open his eyes again. 

She can see tears.

Heidi doesn’t know what to do, what to say, so she just keeps holding his hand. He holds it back, tightly, until the grip loosens and she realizes that he’s fallen asleep. 

When she’s sure he’s out, she moves back to the seat next to Evan’s bed and looks at him. Really looks at him, trying to memorize everything she’s seeing. 

Forcing herself to confront the damage he’s done. 

The bandages around his head from the surgery. The swollen eye, the fact that he’s more bruise than person, the tubes and wires and machines and…

He could have died. 

The doctors keep telling her that. 

He could have  _ died. _

“What were you thinking?” she asks Evan, her voice barely above a whisper. “You stupid boy, what were you thinking?”

She pushes his hair back off his face. Kisses his forehead gently. 

Sits back in the chair next to her bed and keeps watch, holding his hand the whole time. 

* * *

Granny Murphy used to scare Zoe a little. She’s not a 'bake cookies and spoil you rotten' sort of grandmother. 

She’s kind of harsh. 

So Zoe’s not terribly surprised when they get home and she practically bullies her dad into going upstairs to sleep. “Lawrence, do not think just because you’re an adult now that I’ll be afraid to tell you off. Up to bed. Now.”

Zoe thinks it’s so weird to hear her dad’s full name. Nobody ever calls him that. He’s always just Larry. 

Her dad kisses Zoe on the head and tells her he won’t sleep long. 

“Like hell you won’t,” Granny says. She bustles into the kitchen, shaking her head at the food in the cabinets. It’s less organic flax and soybeans these days, but there’s a huge thing of quinoa and Granny doesn’t seem impressed. “What on God’s green earth are you kids even eating?”

Zoe shrugs. 

She’s pretty sure Connor has been trying to live on blueberries alone for the last few weeks. 

Granny sits Zoe down in the kitchen and tells her, without even blinking, that she looks like “absolute shite.”

Zoe can’t argue. She knows she looks like garbage. 

“Have you eaten, love?”

Zoe nods. Explains that Heidi took her for breakfast. 

“Good. Heidi’s got a good head on her shoulders. Can’t have you working yourself into a state like your brother,” she says. Granny “hmphs” and then sets about making Zoe some tea. 

Zoe puts her head down on the counter and wishes she was dead. Or in a coma or something. 

She needs like a month off from her bullshit life. 

Granny sets a huge mug of tea in front of Zoe. Without asking she plunks two sugar cubes into it and then heads into the fridge. 

“What the hell is oat milk?” She mutters to herself, searching inside the fridge. She emerges with a small carton of half and half, saying it’ll have to do, and pours a small amount into her cup and Zoe’s. “Do oats have breasts now?”

Zoe almost smiles. “Would definitely make oatmeal more interesting.”

Granny shakes her head but she’s smiling. She puts the half and half back into the fridge and then sets herself on a stool beside Zoe. 

“Alright, chicken. Out with it. What is the matter?”

Zoe stares at her tea. 

Where the fuck would she even start?

Connor? Evan? Sabrina? 

Her mom? 

The pills? 

“It was an accident,” Zoe whispers pitifully. “I didn’t think he would find them…”

She takes a shuddering breath. 

Granny wraps her arms around Zoe’s shoulders and then Zoe just breaks down. Just cries. It all pours out. Sabrina and sleeping with Jared and the pills she’s been taking to get through the day, the pills Connor stole and almost died taking, the thing that happened between her and Evan and how he hates her but she’s still terrified.

“And Sabrina. She. She only wants me if-if I… tell people about us? And it’s not f-fair. If I tell people they’ll hate me.”

Granny breathes in sharply through her nose. “So?”

Zoe blinks wetly. “So I’ll lose all of my friends.”

“Then it sounds to me, chicken, like you’re already in need of some new ones.”

“I’m not good at anything else,” Zoe mutters. “I don’t know what I’d even do if they stopped talking to me.”

Granny doesn’t look impressed. “Fewer drugs, I’d hope. Sounds like it’s taking a lot of effort for you to try to be what these people expect you to be.”

Zoe wipes her eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be all, like, ‘being gay is a sin’ or whatever?” 

“Love, if God didn’t want people to love each other, He wouldn’t have made us at all. I know there’s some folks who think otherwise, but I’ve always thought. Well. Fuck ‘em. Those people aren’t worth the trouble. They won’t be convinced, and my God would never give us the gift of love if we weren’t intended to use it.”

Zoe narrows her eyes. “That… but what about the whole Garden of Eden thing. With the apple or whatever. That was God, like, literally putting something into the world and getting pissed when people ate it.”

Granny smiles. “I think perhaps, He knows better now. Maybe we don’t quite always match the design He intended, but it’s still His design, eh?” She smiles bigger. “That’s why He sent His Son down, right? Even God messes up sometimes.” 

Zoe feels like she literally has never gotten anything about religion until this very moment. 

She feels. Lighter somehow. 

“How am I supposed to fix this?” She says. 

“Start small,” Granny says. “Call this girl you love and tell her you’re sorry. Tell her you’ll do better. And then this is the hard bit, chicken. You have to actually  _ do _ it.”

* * *

Someone’s holding his hand. 

He opens his eyes. It’s… blurry. Everything’s blurry. 

It takes him a moment to figure out where he is. To focus through the haze of it all. 

Hospital. 

He’s… not sure why he’s in the hospital. Can’t quite remember. 

Evan knows he should know, though. He  _ should  _ know. 

He’s woken up before. He’s been here for a little while now. 

He’s just… not sure how. 

“Hey sweetheart,” says Heidi, her voice soft and hopeful. “How are you feeling?”

“Weird,” Evan admits. His voice is scratchy like he hasn’t spoken much in a while. It’s… speaking is weird right now. He feels a little like he’s floating above himself right now, like he isn’t really attached to his body. “I feel… weird.”

“You’ve been through a lot,” Heidi says, and she sounds so sad. 

“What happened?” he asks, even though somewhere in himself he feels like maybe that’s the wrong question. 

Heidi’s face falls. “What do you remember?” she asks, her voice cautious. 

Evan tries his hardest. 

Thinks back to what he knows. 

Everything’s strange and blurry, like it’s underwater, and he doesn’t…

He fought with Heidi, because he got into a fight with Brian and Chad. 

They attacked him. 

Is that why he’s here?

No, that doesn’t… 

“I knocked out Brian Harris,” he says quietly. “He… I didn’t hurt him, did I?”

Heidi’s eyes widen. “Brian Harris is  _ fine _ ,” she says, sounding almost offended. 

“You were mad at me,” Evan says weakly. “You were so mad and I thought… I thought you…”

Heidi shakes her head. “I was scared,” she confesses. “I was scared I’d lose you, I’m so sorry I got so mad, I never meant to hurt you. I am so, so, so sorry, Evan, I should have believed you, I should have… I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

“It was… stupid,” Evan says. There’s this weird, prickly sensation all over him, like he’s itchy underneath his skin, like there’s something just under the surface trying to make its way out. “I was stupid.”

Heidi nods tearfully. Wipes her face. “Do you remember what happened next, honey?”

Evan doesn’t.

He doesn’t…

And then he does. 

He kissed Connor. Connor kissed him back. 

Then they…

And then  _ he… _

“Oh my god,” he whispers. “Connor must hate me, I left, I  _ left  _ him right after we… he must hate me.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Heidi says urgently. “Sweetheart, he doesn’t hate you.” She squeezes his hand. “Take your time, love. What else do you remember?” She swallows audibly. “Do you remember why you left?”

He left. 

He left and he… went back to Chino. 

He put a stone on his mother’s grave, then went to his dad’s place so his dad would hurt him. 

So his dad would kill him. 

He went to Chino to die. 

He wanted to die, he…

He’s suddenly aware of his body. How it aches. How his head hurts and there’s a dull, throbbing pain throughout his entire body. How one eye won’t open, how there’s a pain in his chest, how it hurts to breathe. 

His dad could have killed him. 

His dad should have killed him.

His dad nearly killed him, and he…

He wanted it. 

Evan can feel himself trembling. Feel his good eye fill with tears, because he can’t say this out loud, he can’t hurt Heidi like that, he can’t admit this he can’t say it out loud he has to spare her the pain he has to lie - he has to  _ lie,  _ he has to spare her this. 

“I w-wanted to see my d-dad,” he says, hating how he’s shaking. “I w-was up-upset, I w-w-wanted to s-s-see my d-d-dad because he’s m-my  _ dad _ , I d-didn’t-”

“Bullshit,” says Connor. 

Connor?

Why is Connor  _ here _ , how is Connor…

Evan looks over. Feels his heart sink. 

Because Connor’s in a hospital bed, too. There’s a tube in his nose. He looks thin and weak and wrecked and oh god what did Evan do what the fuck did he do how did he hurt Connor he hurt Connor what did he  _ do _ ?

“Wh-what happened?” he demands, looking at Connor. “Why are y-you… wh-what happened, d-did I h-hurt you I n-never wanted to h-hurt you-”

“You didn’t want to see your dad,” Connor says, his voice dark. “You didn’t. Don’t lie.”

“I-I-I-I’m n-not-”

“You are!” Connor insists. “You  _ are  _ lying, you’re afraid of your dad, you wouldn’t go to  _ visit _ , you…” His eyes fill with tears. “You went there to  _ die _ . You went to see your dad so he’d kill you.”

Heidi looks devastated. “Evan, is this true?”

Evan tries to shake his head. Regrets it immediately. 

Looks at Connor and opens his mouth to deny it. 

Tries to deny it. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

“I…”

Connor looks at him pleadingly. “Please,” he says, his voice breaking. “ _ Please _ .”

Evan closes his good eye. 

“When I was a kid, my dad told me that if I turned out gay, he’d kill me. So-so-so after… after I figured out that maybe I  _ am _ , I…” He won’t open his eyes. “I wanted to st-stop fucking everything up. I w-w-wanted to…” He feels like crying, but he can’t. He can’t, he can’t look at anyone, he hates this he hates this so much but he needs to be honest, for once in his miserable life. “I kn-knew I’d b-burned my whole l-l-life down after the f-f-fight and-and-and I th-thought Heidi hated me and-and-and I was… I was t-t-t-terrified I’d destroy the one g-good thing I had l-left.” He feels tears escaping. Running down his face. He’s too weak to wipe them away. “So I thought it would be… better for everyone if I just.” He swallows. “If I just disappeared.”

* * *

Connor just fucking sits there like an asshole and cries a bit. Heidi fusses over Evan, tells him he’s going to be okay, tells him that she’s going to make sure he gets whatever help he needs, and Connor just sits there, devastated. 

He knew he was right. 

But he didn’t want to be. 

His best friend… the boy he’s in love with… he tried to kill himself and Connor couldn’t stop him. Connor couldn’t save him. He didn’t do enough, he didn’t realize in time, he didn’t…

This is his fault. 

Heidi keeps talking to Evan, her voice quiet, and Connor hears her say he should sleep more. 

“I don’t… I don’t un-understand,” Evan mumbles, “Why’s Connor here?”

“He’s okay, sweetheart, we can talk about it later.” 

“But… what happened?”

Connor can’t bring himself to tell him. Not now. He shouldn’t tell him now. Not when he’s so hurt, not when he’s so fragile. 

“I’m s-so sorry,” Evan practically whispers, and Heidi gently brushes his hair away and tells him it’ll all be okay. 

The moment Connor is sure Evan’s sleeping, he wipes his eyes on his sleeves and tells himself to quit being such a fucking pussy. He can’t be losing it like this every time Evan wakes up. Ideally, Evan will be awake a lot more. He can’t just melt down every time he sees him with his eyes open. 

Heidi is at Connor’s bedside then. She sits on the edge of the bed and pulls Connor into a hug. 

“Thank you,” She says. Heidi sounds so fucking sad. So broken and exhausted and hurt. “I… I didn’t know. How did I not know?”

Connor sniffles but there’s a fucking tube in his nose shoving nutrients down his throat so all it accomplishes is making him flinch because it feels fucking weird. “He didn’t want you to,” He says softly. “I think he… was hoping it would look like… like an accident… I’m so sorry Heidi. I fucked up. I knew he… I knew and I didn’t say anything and now look what happened… I could have stopped this -”

“No.”

“I could have stopped him,” Connor says desperately. “I kept his secret and it was… stupid. I should have told you.” 

“Connor, sweetheart,” She says, handing him a tissue. “You didn’t know he would do this. You couldn’t have known.” 

Connor mops up his face. They must be giving him fluids in one of the fucking tubes they’ve stuck in him because otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to keep crying. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. 

“It’s not your fault,” Heidi replies. She pets his objectively gross hair. “You made sure I knew. And now I can make sure he… he gets the right help.”

“He’s gonna hate me,” Connor mumbles stupidly. 

“No. He’s not,” Heidi says. “And if he’s angry, he’ll get over it. You saved his life, Connor. He owes it to you to take better care of it.” 

That sets Connor off crying again. 

It sucks crying with a tube in your nose. 

Once he pulls himself together again, Heidi kisses the top of his head. Tells Connor to go back to sleep. “I’m just going to go and speak with Evan’s doctors,” She says. 

“Okay.” 

She leaves. 

And Connor watches Evan. He’s asleep again. He looks… so hurt. So horribly, horribly hurt. 

Connor can’t imagine a worse way to die. Being beaten like that by your own father. Wanting it to be that way. 

He hates it. 

And he’s… angry. 

Angry at Evan for running off, angry at him for doing this, for leaving him alone and trying to lie and… 

Connor hates that he’s angry. He doesn’t want to be angry. Feels like he doesn’t deserve to be angry because it’s… hypocritical at best. 

After all, Evan wasn’t even in the hospital for two full days when Connor took those pills. 

He keeps swearing it wasn’t on purpose, but Connor’s honestly not sure anymore. It wasn’t like last time when he swallowed a handful and waited to die. This time… 

It could have been an accident. 

Maybe he hoped it would look like an accident. 

Maybe he figured if he died it… would be okay. If it wasn’t on purpose, exactly. 

He’s no better than Evan. 

And he’s telling everyone he didn’t mean it this time, but he’s no better than Evan. He doesn’t know if he meant it. He just thought… 

That there wasn’t a point in trying to turn back once it got too far. That there wasn’t a point in hanging on or trying to fight. 

He can’t exactly yell at Evan for that when he’s doing the same fucking thing. 

He hits his call button. 

The young nurse from the other day who called him “honey” appears. His name is Adam. “Hey kid,” He says softly. “What do you need?”

Connor sighs. “Uh. I…” He sniffs again. It irritates his nose tube. “I think I’m supposed to be in psych.” 

The nurse frowns. 

“I… I… Do you think you could call my dad? And tell him that… I think I should be moved up to psych?” 

The nurse nods. “Okay honey. I can do that.” 

Connor nods. It feels like all of the fight goes out of him. 

“Get more rest, sweetie. You’ve got a long fight ahead of you.” 

“Okay.” 

* * *

It’s a long night, and Heidi doesn’t sleep for any of it. 

She’s too scared, terrified that if she closes her eyes, even for a second, Evan will slip away from her. 

She can’t stop thinking about what he said. What Connor made him admit. 

She can’t stop thinking about how she didn’t know. 

She should have known. 

She should have insisted he get therapy. Insisted he talk to someone. She knew he was a scared, traumatized kid and she didn’t do enough. 

Wasn’t there enough. 

She wasn’t there. She was too busy with work to look after Evan, to really be there for him the way he needed her to be, and she has no one to blame but herself. 

Heidi chose this. She chose him, and she let him down. 

She let him down. 

Maybe they  _ should  _ take him away. Put him somewhere safe, where he’ll get the help that he needs. Put him with someone who’s not a total failure of a mother. 

The doctor she spoke with hadn’t seemed surprised when she told him. He’d seemed sorry to hear it, but not surprised. 

He’d said that once Evan’s waking up a bit more consistently, once he’s recovered a bit more, he’ll need a psych consult.

That’s good. It’s objectively good, it’s what Evan needs. 

But it breaks her heart. Crushes it into a million tiny pieces.

It’s not even eight am when Larry shows up. Connor’s still asleep and Evan’s out cold, and Larry looks a little more rested. A little less old. 

He’s brought coffee and danishes. 

He hands her a cup and she bursts into tears. 

He takes the coffee cup out of her hand, puts it on the table, and pulls her into a hug. 

Lets her cry for what feels like forever. 

Doesn’t say anything, he’s just… there. 

When she’s finally done, he produces a packet of Kleenex out of nowhere and hands it to her. She collects herself the best she can and tries to smile. 

“Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he tells her firmly. “Lord knows I’ve done my share of crying throughout this whole thing.”

They sit quietly for a while. 

Watch the boys sleep. 

“The hospital called me first thing,” Larry says quietly. “Connor asked them to tell me that he thinks he should be in psych.”

Heidi feels her chest tighten. “He did?”

Larry looks at her. “Did something happen last night?”

Heidi feels her eyes fill with tears again. 

She can’t look at him. Can’t look him in the eye. 

“Evan woke up. Told me why he went to Chino.” She closes her eyes and puts her head in her hands. “He went there to die, Larry, he went there on purpose. He… he wanted to disappear, he was trying to get his dad to  _ kill  _ him.” 

Larry puts an arm around her and squeezes her shoulder. “I am so sorry.”

“He tried to lie,” she confesses. “Tried to tell me he just wanted to see his dad. But Connor woke up and called him on it and… he admitted it. He told me that he wanted to die, Larry, he thought I hated him and that it would be better if he was dead.” She sits up and looks at him. “I fucked it up. I fucked it up so badly and he could have died and they might take him away from me and maybe they should-”

“No,” Larry interrupts firmly. “That is not true, Heidi, and that is not going to happen. They’re  _ not  _ taking him away from you.

“They might,” Heidi says tearfully. “I’ve fucked up so badly, maybe he’d be better off.”

“That kid loves you,” says Larry fiercely. “He loves you so much, he wants you to be his mom. He wouldn’t be better off without you. Not even a little bit. Anyone with a lick of sense is going to realize that you’re that kid’s best chance at being happy. At surviving this.”

“I fucked it up.”

Larry looks at her. Lets out this humorless laugh. “And I didn’t? Connor’s right here next to him, right here in the same hospital room. I should have done more. I should have seen this coming. It’s happened before.”

Heidi shakes her head. “You can’t blame yourself for this.”

“Neither can you,” Larry shoots back. He sighs. Rubs his face. “I have made so many mistakes with Connor. So many. And I’m probably going to keep fucking up. But I have to… just keep going. To try to do better next time.” He looks so tired. “I’ve been a parent for seventeen years and I have no idea what the hell I’m doing. You haven’t even had a year.”

“And look what happened,” Heidi chokes out. “Look where he is.”

“Where do you think he’d be if you hadn’t taken him in?” Larry asks quietly. “His dad did this to him. His biological parent did this. If he hadn’t been with you, it could have happened earlier. He could have slipped through the cracks in the foster system, he could… who knows what could have happened to him.” He swallows hard. “Who knows where Connor would be if he hadn’t met Evan?”

Heidi’s chest aches. “Not here,” she says quietly. “He wouldn’t have hurt himself-”

“He hurt himself before he met Evan,” Larry reminds her. “Going back to that school without someone to rely on? Someone he could trust? Someone who noticed when he was hurting and made sure he was eating and stood by him when everyone turned against him?” He swallows hard. Runs his hand through his hair. “I don’t know if he’d have made it without someone like that. Without someone in his corner. I know it doesn’t look like it now, but believe me when I say that Evan’s changed things for Connor for the better.”

Heidi wants to argue. 

But she’s known Connor his entire life. 

And she knows Larry’s right. Connor’s better with Evan. 

She hopes for both of their sakes that Evan gets to stay. 

* * *

Connor is struggling to eat a very boring lunch. It tastes extremely bland. Apparently, there’s like… special mush they give people who suck at eating. They claim it is some kind of mashed potato thing with added vitamins, but Connor thinks it tastes more like glue. 

They had originally tried him on normal people food at first but his throat is sore and swallowing and chewing is really fucking difficult. He kept gagging. 

Solution: give the kid who hates eating some paste to eat. 

With a side of applesauce. 

He does eat that. It’s hard to fuck that up at least. 

They’re going to move him to psych tomorrow morning. He’s not looking forward to it. He’s scared about leaving Evan. He’s barely been awake… He freaked out when he realized Connor was there earlier. Totally freaked out. 

But at least he admitted why he really went to Chino. That’s something. 

His dad is sitting in his usual chair next to Connor’s bed. He’s on his Blackberry, reading through emails and frowning deeply. He’s supposed to go back to work next week. Zoe’s going back to school. 

Normalcy. Apparently that’s a thing. 

Granny Murphy is going to stick around, though. She says she’s sticking around at least until Connor’s allowed to come back home. Granny Murphy is also there. Today she is knitting a sweater. She’s pretty dexterous for an old lady. Her fingers fly as she knits. 

She chats with him idly. Asks what he’s been reading. Granny’s a big reader. She brought four books in her carryon for the trip and she’s already read them. Connor mentions having read  _ Brave New World  _ for English. He thought it was weird. The drugs in it were weird. 

Granny seems to agree. They debate which dystopian future would be worse:  _ Brave New World  _ or  _ 1984\.  _ Connor’s dad gets in on it and says that  _ Fahrenheit 451  _ would be the worst. 

“Connor?”

The conversation comes to a sudden stop. Evan’s saying his name. 

“Connor?”

Connor scrambles up from his bed. Grabs his IV stand and hurries over. “Hey, Evan, hey… How are you feeling?”

“Fuzzy. Weird.” Evan blinks. His one eyelid is less swollen now. He gropes for Connor’s hand and Connor gives it up to him, holds his hand gently, squeezes it gently. “Why are you…” His eyebrows knit together. “You’re in a h-hospital gown?”

Connor nods. “Yeah. Uh. You and I are roommates until tomorrow.” 

“Wh-what?” Evan blinks slowly. “I don’t… I don’t understand. Why’re you here?”

Connor doesn’t want to tell him. He can’t tell him right now. Evan’s too hurt. Too fragile. He can’t just tell him the truth. It could really hurt him. “I’m alright. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.”

Evan squeezes Connor’s hand tighter. “Please… don’t lie.” He looks so worried, his face is all pinched. “I told. I t-t-told my- I told  _ Heidi _ . You need… to tell me.” 

Connor sighs. 

He’s right. 

He wants to protect Evan but he’s not being fair by keeping this from him. He squeezes Evan’s hand a little tighter. “Okay. Okay. I… I messed up. A couple of nights ago. I messed up and I took some pills. I ODed. So that’s why I’m here.”

“You ODed?” Evan says. He sounds devastated. 

“I fucked up,” Connor says. “I was… stupid and sad and I made a mistake.” He can’t quite look at Evan. Can’t stand to see the obvious disappointment in his eyes. 

“But… you. Eighteen months?” Evan whispers. “We were… gonna do something… cool. When you g-g-got to two years.”

“Were we?” Connor asks. He doesn’t remember that. Had they talked about it? 

“Was… gonna. A surprise.” Evan’s fading, Connor can tell. “Why’d you take them…?” 

“I’m stupid,” Connor says softly.

“But you’re not allowed… to die,” Evan mumbles.

“Neither are you,” Connor points out. 

Evan huffs softly. “Don’t go. Please don’t leave me…” 

“I won’t,” Connor insists. “I swear.” 

And with that, Evan’s eyes close again. He’s asleep. 

* * *

They’re moving Connor in the morning. 

Evan doesn’t have the best grasp on the passing of time right now. Not really. He finds it hard to stay awake for too long, hard to stay present. Every time he wakes up, he has to remember it all over again. 

He freaked out and ruined everything. 

Nearly got himself killed. 

Upset Connor, hurt him so badly that he broke eighteen months of sobriety, took too many pills and almost died. 

Evan nearly got Connor killed.

That’s what he remembers first, every time he wakes up. 

That he nearly got Connor killed. Someone he cares about more than anything. 

Someone he could…

Someone he could love. 

If he had any idea how to do that. 

If he had any idea what that meant. 

Evan isn’t quite at the stage where they’re getting him to eat just yet, so they’re not waking him up for meals. Not really waking him up at all, really, just… letting him rest. 

When he’s waking up more consistently, when he stops being quite so in and out, he’ll need a psych consult. 

Because he admitted it. 

Because he told the truth about why he went to Chino. 

Part of him still wishes he’d lied, but he thinks about Connor’s face. How he’d looked so young and sad and weak in the hospital bed across from his and begged him to tell the truth. 

He couldn’t lie successfully to Connor when he first got to Newport. He sure as hell can’t do it now. 

Evan wakes up sometime in the middle of the night to find that it’s just him and Connor. No Mr. Murphy, no Heidi, no Connor’s grandma, just the two of them. 

It’s the first time that’s happened. The first time there hasn’t been an adult curled up in an armchair. 

Evan hopes Heidi’s getting a good night’s sleep. Hopes she’s feeling okay, that she’s not just lying awake worrying about him. 

He’s not worth that. 

It takes Evan a moment to realize that Connor’s getting up. Taking his IV and heading to the bathroom. 

It takes another moment for Evan to realize that he hasn’t peed in, like, forever, what the fuck is going on there? He’s still on pretty strong pain medication for all his injuries so he can’t really feel anything. Did they do the whole thing where they put a tube in his dick?

He knows that’s a thing. He’s pretty sure he read about it in one of Liam’s Grey’s Anatomy stories.

If he had any kind of body strength, any at all, he’d throw back the blankets and check out what the situation is but he doesn’t have any body strength so that’s obviously not happening. 

He feels his cheeks burn. Fuck. He’s really fucked himself up. 

He remembers what he’d heard the doctor tell Heidi, in that weird space between asleep and awake.

That he’s lucky to be alive. 

When Connor gets back from the bathroom, he looks at Evan. His eyes widen a little bit when he sees he’s awake and he smiles, but the smile fades a bit after a moment and he comes over to sit in the seat next to Evan’s bed he’s starting to think of as Heidi’s. 

“Hey.”

Connor’s voice is quiet and rough, like he’s not quite awake. 

“Hi,” Evan says, a little stupidly. He blinks. The eye that was swollen shut is less swollen now. He can almost open it. 

“How are you feeling?” Connor asks gently. “You’re not in too much pain?”

Evan shakes his head as much as he can manage. “Mostly I just feel weird,” he tells him. “But I’m… clearer, I guess. A little.”

Connor smiles. “Good,” he says, sounding genuinely relieved. “That’s good.” He reaches out and takes Evan’s hand gently. Squeezes it lightly. 

Evan squeezes back. 

It’s the first time they’ve been alone since that night. 

The night Evan kissed him. 

Kissed him, touched him, fell asleep next to him, and left the morning after. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, he wishes he hadn’t left then. 

Wishes he’d… waited. 

He doesn’t know if he quite wishes he hadn’t left at all. Not yet. But he wishes it wasn’t so connected, wishes it wasn’t…

“Are you mad at me?” Evan asks weakly. “Because I left?”

Connor’s shoulders sag. He sighs. “I’m not exactly thrilled,” he says, in this deliberately off-hand tone that makes Evan’s heart hurt a little. He offers this weak smile. “It’s not, like, exactly what you hope for in the morning after.”

Evan feels his heart sink. “It wasn’t you,” he says quietly. “I d-didn’t leave because of you.”

“Really?” Connor says, laughing a little bitterly. “Because the timing would say otherwise.”

Evan wishes he could explain. “I w-wanted to keep you safe. I’d just… I fucked everything up, and you are so amazing and I… I couldn’t risk you. Couldn’t risk the m-mess that I am rubbing off on you, couldn’t risk you… you standing by my side as ev-everything b-burned down, I wanted to keep you  _ safe _ .”

Connor looks fucking devastated. “Yeah, well, that didn’t work out so well,” he says, and he sounds even more bitter. Almost disgusted. “How is trying to kill yourself  _ protecting  _ me?”

“I was an idiot,” Evan offers weakly. “I… I kn-know it was so fucking st-stupid, I-”

“It  _ was  _ fucking stupid.” Connor’s eyes are big and glassy. “You almost died, Evan. You went to Chino to die and I…” He lets out this shaky sigh. “I couldn’t handle losing you, Evan, I just couldn’t.”

Evan swallows. “Is that why you t-took all those pills?” 

Connor flinches. “Yeah,” he says, his voice raw. “I thought I’d  _ killed  _ you.”

Evan frowns. “It wasn’t your fault-”

“We hooked up and the next day you tried to kill yourself,” Connor interrupts tearfully. “What was I supposed to think?”

“It wasn’t about that,” Evan tries to explain. “It wasn’t because I-”

“I love you.”

Part of Evan wants to tell him to shut his damn mouth. 

Tell him to quit lying. 

Another part of Evan wants to say it back. 

Is aching to say it back. 

But he can’t. It’s too big, too huge, too…

Evan doesn’t know what love is. What it means. It’s huge and vast and confusing and…

He can’t say it. 

He just can’t. 

Connor’s looking at him, his expression more and more devastated as the seconds tick on, and Evan can’t bear it. Can’t bear him looking so sad. 

He tugs on Connor’s hand gently. “Can you please come here?”

Connor frowns. Opens his mouth like he’s going to argue. 

Evan tugs Connor’s hand a little harder. 

If he could move  _ himself  _ closer, he would. 

He shifts as best he can. Sits up as best he can. 

Connor’s eyes widen. 

Evan tugs his hand one more time. “Please. Come here.”

Connor looks bewildered. Completely lost. 

But he moves closer. 

It takes everything he’s got, but Evan closes the distance between them. Kisses Connor, as best he can. 

He doesn’t get it right. Their noses bump awkwardly. 

Evan shakes from the effort. 

Connor’s lips are chapped and dry. 

It’s still good. Still… warm. Still right. 

Evan’s an idiot. A fucking idiot for leaving. 

He can’t keep it up for long. He’s shaking as he falls back against the pillow. He feels like he just ran a fucking marathon. 

Connor looks at him for a long time. 

Evan doesn’t know what Connor’s thinking. Doesn’t know how to make things better. 

Evan’s run out of lies. 

* * *

Connor isn’t expecting Evan to kiss him. He really fucking isn’t. Especially after Connor idiotically blurts that he loves Evan and Evan just looks at him like he’s a fucking Martian or something. 

It hurts. 

It’s just. Totally silent other than the soft beeps and buzzes all of their various machines make. 

It feels like… the ultimate rejection. 

To tell someone  _ I love you  _ and have them say nothing. Do nothing. 

He doesn’t expect Evan to pull at his hand. “Can you please come here?”

Connor doesn’t understand. He’s there. He’s holding Evan’s hand even though Evan doesn’t love him back. He’s there. He’s not leaving. 

He opens his mouth to tell Evan that when Evan tugs at Connor’s hand again. 

Connor just stares because he doesn’t understand. 

And then Evan’s  _ moving,  _ forcing himself up and Connor should protest should tell him to stop before he hurts himself but then Evan tugs his hand once more. Even harder. “Please,” he says, his voice soft. “Come here.”

Connor leans in closer, totally lost, desperately trying to figure out how to get Evan to lie back down before he pops a stitch or busts an organ, but then Evan’s nose bumps against Connor’s. 

And they’re kissing. 

Not for long. Not deeply or passionately or whatever. They’re just kissing. Soft and gentle and warm. 

Evan sinks back against the bed and he looks exhausted and Connor can feel him shaking through the hand he’s holding. 

“I… that was  _ dumb _ , Evan, you’re hurt.” 

“I just… I…” Evan looks so sad. So hurt. “Connor. It w-wasn’t you. Okay?”

Connor wants to argue and tell Evan that if that is the case he desperately needs to work on not sending extremely mixed messages, but he can’t bring himself to do it. 

He can’t bring himself to yell at Evan even though he kind of wants to. 

Instead, he leans in closer, carefully, and kisses Evan again. Soft and quick but Evan smiles. His whole face relaxes. 

He looks almost like himself when he smiles. 

And Connor can’t help himself. “I love you,” he tells Evan again. 

And Evan’s smile fades again. “I…” 

Connor feels his face burn with shame. “It’s okay. If you don’t… I mean I wouldn’t expect you to, obviously, because I’m… but. I... it’s just that. I love you…”  _ Fuck _ that’s not what he meant to say. He’s so stupid. Obviously Evan doesn’t love him. If he did, then he’d say it. If he did, he wouldn’t have left the night they first kissed. If he did, he wouldn’t be in the hospital because kissing Connor made him want to fucking die. “I love you.” He can’t stop saying it. 

Fuck. 

Connor is an embarrassment to himself and his family and also generations of gay people who sucked a lot less than he does. 

He gets up to go back to his bed so he can at least have some semblance of privacy with his total humiliation. 

“W-wait,” Evan says. His voice isn’t really his voice. It’s paper-thin and shaky and Connor hates it. Connor turns back. Looks at Evan, battered and bruised in his hospital bed. 

Connor waits for his instructions. 

“Don’t go?”

Connor should protest. Should absolutely say no, they both need sleep, they’re both disasters and need to focus on getting better… 

But he doesn’t. He’s not strong enough to deny Evan. “What do you need?” Connor asks him.

“Come here. Please?”

Connor figures out what Evan means. “I can't,'' he whispers. “You’re hurt… I could hurt you worse.”

“You won’t,” Evan says. 

Because he is stupid and impulsive and doesn’t always think things through. 

But Connor can’t bring himself to tell him no. Not when he asks like this. 

He helps Evan to shift slightly to the side of his hospital bed, being careful not to bump his IV or the various other wires and tubes attached. Connor maneuvers his own IV stand so it sits on the other side of the bed and crawls in. He’s careful about where he touches Evan because he knows how hurt he is. Broken ribs. Head trauma. His kidneys were hurt too. 

But Connor very very gently wraps his arm around Evan. Across his chest where he isn’t so hurt. It’s a good thing that Connor is so skinny or else he’d never fit. Evan sighs and leans his forehead lightly against Connor’s. Connor kisses him again. 

Evan smiles. 

“Hate how quiet it is here,” Evan mumbles after a while. “Too quiet.”

Connor sighs. 

Remembers that his dad brought his iPod earlier. It’s still in the pocket of his hoodie. The hoodie he’s wearing over his stupid hospital gown. He reaches in and unwinds the earbuds. 

Connor gently places an earbud in Evan’s ear. 

He puts the other in his own ear. 

“This okay?”

“Y-yeah.” 

Turns on the playlist he made of songs that Evan’s mom liked. They just lay there, listening, while the songs play and minutes pass. 

Joni Mitchell’s “Big Yellow Taxi” and Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah” and then “Fast Car” by Tracy Chapman. 

He feels Evan relax against him. Feels the moment when he falls asleep again. 

Connor knows he should get up. Let Evan rest. Not risk hurting him more by being in his space, being in his bed like this. Evan’s too hurt. He’s too fragile for this shit. Connor knows better. 

But he’s tired. And tomorrow he’s going to be gone. 

So he stays. 

* * *

Larry is a mess the morning they move Connor up to psych. He’s a  _ mess.  _

He’s not even sure why. Larry knows that’s where Connor needs to be. He knows. 

But part of him is still devastated that Connor isn’t coming home. And they’re not going to let Larry camp out in an uncomfortable armchair in the psych ward. Connor will be all by himself. 

What if he gets scared? What if he’s lonely or cold? What if he starts refusing food? What if he refuses to see Larry? 

Larry’s a fucking mess. 

Zoe, however, is surprisingly put together. She and his mom troop into Connor’s bedroom and pack him up enough clothes for a week. His mother methodically removes the strings from his hoodies. 

She frowns at the various pairs of pajama bottoms she’s pulled out of Connor’s drawers. 

They all have drawstrings. 

And none of them will fit him without them. 

“Cynthia has a sewing machine, doesn’t she?” his mom says quietly. 

Larry nods. 

“Well, I’d better get to work so we’re not late.”

She takes three pairs of pajamas into her arms and heads downstairs. Zoe sighs and keeps putting T-shirts into the bag. “This feels like. So wrong. Going through his stuff.”

Larry swallows hard because all he’s been able to think about when he tries to sleep at night is the various logistical things he would have to do and see and plan and handle if Connor hadn’t survived. There is this horrible, morbid checklist in his brain of all of things that would need doing. Planning a funeral. Picking out a casket. Figuring out what clothes Connor would be buried in. Selecting a tombstone. Graveside service or no. Catholic service or no. Who would deliver the eulogy. 

Larry shakily picks up a shirt from Connor’s drawer and folds it. It’s not neat. Not crisp or tidy. He may as well have just bunched the shirt into a ball. It’s for that band he likes. The one Larry got him tickets to see with Evan. Panic at the… whatever. Dry cleaners or something the shirt doesn’t even say it just says “panic” and if Connor had died Larry wouldn’t be able ever look them up without crying and -

“Dad?”

He could have died. Again. He could have died he could have died he’s only seventeen seventeen-year-olds shouldn’t be on death’s door they shouldn’t be in this much pain they shouldn’t-

“Dad.”

Larry blinks and looks at Zoe. Her face is pale. Her hair which she bleached blonde over the summer is pulled back in a limp ponytail. Her roots are showing. Her natural hair color is lighter than Connor’s but not by much. Cynthia had been disappointed for a while that neither of the kids got her red hair. 

“What is it, sweetheart?” He asks, trying to look at her, focus on her, on her young but tired face, on the way her eyebrows knit together and how the poor kid got Larry’s wild and unruly eyebrows, how she gets them waxed every month, how she’s teased him that his look silly now that he’s gone gray.

“You’re not, like, having a heart attack or something right?” Zoe says, her eyes big. “You’re breathing kind of…”

Larry forces himself to breathe. 

He’s fine. 

He needs to be fine. 

“I’m alright, sweetheart. Thank you.” He pulls her into a hug. Kisses the top of her head. She’s gotten a lot taller but she still only just clears his shoulder. 

She hugs him back. Tightly. She always gave such tight hugs, even as a little girl, like she was trying to squeeze the life out of you. 

Larry sinks down onto Connor’s bed. Zoe keeps packing for a moment or two, but then she stops. Sits down beside him. Grabs his hand. “Dad?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“You know that… this isn’t your fault, right?”

Larry takes that like a blow to the head. It leaves him winded and dazed. 

Not long after, Larry’s mother comes back upstairs with a few pairs of Connor’s pajamas, now altered so they’ll fit him. 

It breaks Larry’s heart. They look so small. 

* * *

Connor wakes up to a hand on his shoulder. It’s his favorite nurse - Adam - the one who calls him “honey.” 

“Hey hon,” he says not unkindly. “You should probably get back to your own bed. We’re moving you in a couple of hours.”

Connor nods. Slowly starts to unwind himself from Evan. 

Evan’s eyes fly open. “Don’t.” He grabs at Connor’s hand. 

Connor doesn’t know what to do. 

He needs to get up. 

But Evan doesn’t want him to go. 

“Hey. Sorry, I gotta… they’re gonna move me soon,” he says, his voice all scratchy and weird. 

“No,” Evan says softly. His eyes keep closing but then he forces them open again. “No. Stay. Please.”

“I want to,” Connor whispers. He feels his eyes tear up. “But I gotta…I’m going to psych remember?”

Evan looks at him. He looks devastated. “When are you coming back?” He asks. His voice is sleepy and sad. 

Connor doesn’t know how to tell him that he’s not. He’s not coming back to this room. 

“I don’t know. It’ll. It’ll be a while,” he says gently. “They… I can’t leave once I go. Not until they say I’m okay to go home.”

Connor watches as Evan’s brows furrow in confusion. “You’re… you’re not coming back?”

“I’ll come to visit as soon as I can,” Connor tells him. “But I… I don’t know when that’ll be.”

Evan shakes his head. Connor can’t tell if he’s trying to stay awake or if he’s disagreeing. “No,” Evan says. “Please don’t go.”

Connor’s crying now. Evan holds tight to his hand. “I don’t want to,” he says with a sniff. “I don’t want to go…”

“Good. Then… don’t.” Evans's eyes close again. 

Connor sniffles some more. He presses a kiss gently to Evan’s cheek. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Evan shakes his head. “Please don’t leave… pl-please don’t leave me.”

He doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to go anywhere. He wants to be here. 

But he can’t be here. 

He’s all fucked up. He tried to kill himself this week. He knows he needs to go. 

“Evan. I love you,” he whispers. “I will be back as soon as I can. I promise. Okay? I promise I’ll be back.”

And he pulls himself away. Adam the nurse helps Connor back onto his feet. 

Evan’s eyes close again. He’s frowning. 

Connor’s crying. Adam helps him back into his own bed. It’s cold. He takes Connor’s vitals. Temperature and blood pressure and heart rate. He examines Connor’s IV line and gives him a sad smile. 

“You’re pretty much good to go as soon as you finish breakfast,” Adam tells him. 

Connor nods. Wipes his eyes. 

“Connor?” Evan whispers from his bed. “Where’s…?”

Connor can’t stop crying. 

Adam the nurse gently tells Evan that Connor is in his bed. That he’s okay. 

“You’ll make sure he’s okay?” Connor asks Adam. 

Adam nods reassuringly. “I will. I swear.”

Connor wipes his eyes again. 

Evan goes back to sleep. 

And maybe ten minutes later his dad and an orderly appear. The orderly is friendly and smiley. “Your chariot awaits, good sir,” he tells Connor, gesturing to the wheelchair he’s got. 

Connor looks back at Evan. 

He’s supposed to walk to the wheelchair. But he walks to Evan’s bed. He takes his hand and leans in and says quietly, “I love you. Get better, okay? I love you.”

“Don’t go,” Evan says softly. Connor didn’t even know he was awake. “Don’t leave me. Please.”

“I’m so sorry,” Connor tells him. “I love you. Please get better. I love you.”

And then he goes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! at the Disco  
> Chapter title from "I Will Follow You Into The Dark" by Death Cab For Cutie


	53. Can’t Do It By Myself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoe takes a leap of faith, Connor meets some new people, and Sabrina throws a punch.

Granny makes Zoe oatmeal for breakfast on Saturday morning after her dad leaves for the hospital. 

Zoe eats it because she knows she has to eat. Granny put effort into it. There’s lots of brown sugar and cinnamon, which is how Zoe likes it. 

She feels stupidly overwhelmed by that. 

It’s just some oatmeal. 

“Chicken,” her granny says, her voice measured. “I know this has been a tough week. But we need to talk about you going back to school.”

Zoe frowns. It’s bribe oatmeal. She suddenly doesn’t want to eat it anymore. “Do I have to?” She whispers, looking at her bowl rather than at Granny. 

“The longer you put it off, love, the worse it’ll feel. It’s like ripping off a plaster I’m afraid.”

Zoe nods. She finishes eating and heads up to her room. Gathers up some clothes. Showers. Changes. Pulls her wet hair into a messy bun. 

She calls Sabrina. 

Honestly, she is surprised that Sabrina answers. 

“Can we talk?” Zoe asks. “Maybe get coffee or something?”

Sabrina agrees. They decide to meet at Starbucks in half an hour. 

Zoe heads downstairs in jeans and a t-shirt. She’s surprised when she sees her dad walking back inside. 

He looks exhausted. 

“Thought you would stay at the hospital,” Zoe says. 

“Psych has different rules about visitors,” her dad says. He looks so damn tired. “We can all go visit tomorrow if we want. But today he needs to get settled.”

“Is he okay?” Zoe asks. 

Her dad shrugs. “I don’t know. Evan was awake when they moved him. He kept asking Connor not to go… I think it. Scared him a little.”

Zoe nods. 

Whatever it is that’s going on with Connor and Evan… it’s intense. She hopes that they’ll both be alright. 

“I’m going to get coffee with Sabrina,” Zoe says to her dad. “I want to… try to figure stuff out with her. Before school on Monday.”

He nods. “Alright sweetheart.” Her dad pulls her into a hug. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Zoe says quietly. 

“I know it makes me… a helicopter parent,” he says. “But will you text me to let me know when you get there? After everything…”

Zoe nods. “I’ll text you.”

“Thank you, honey,” Larry says. He kisses the top of her head. “Be safe.”

Zoe drives herself to Starbucks. 

Goes to the counter and orders. Decides she’s not feeling a skinny vanilla latte today and instead gets a hot white mocha. She needs something warm. To make her feel strong. 

Sabrina finds her not long after Zoe grabs them a table. She goes to order and comes to sit across from Zoe once she has it in hand. 

She’s so beautiful. 

She’s not really wearing makeup. Her hair is loose around her. She’s wearing a comfortable looking dress and her denim jacket. 

Zoe tries to give her a smile. 

She’s not sure if it works. 

“What did you want to talk about?” Sabrina asks. Her hands are resting on the table. Fiddling with the sleeve of her coffee cup. 

Zoe reaches out to take Sabrina’s hands. Sabrina looks surprised but doesn’t pull away. 

“I’m sorry,” Zoe says. Her voice cracks a little. “I’ve been… super unfair to you. I’ve been a bitch. And I’m really sorry.”

Sabrina nods. 

Zoe swallows hard. Looks Sabrina in the eye. “I meant what I said… I meant it when I said I love you.” She takes a shaky breath. “And I’m sorry about. The other stuff. I have been an asshole. For months.” She breathes some more. “And I… I don’t even know if you still want anything to do with me. After all the shit I’ve said and done. But I… if you still want me. Then I’ll… do whatever you want, okay? We can tell people.”

Sabrina looks surprised. Almost angry. “That’s… Zoe, I’ve wanted to hear that for… forever. But when we talked two days ago you said…”

“I know what I said,” Zoe admits softly. “Because I’m. I’m fucking scared. People at school are assholes… but you don’t want to be a secret. And I don’t want to lie anymore. So if… if coming out and telling people is what I need to do to make this work, then I’ll do it.”

“What changed?” Sabrina asks. She looks lost. “On Thursday-”

“I know,” Zoe says, squeezing Sabrina’s hand. “Okay? I know. But you are… so important to me. And I wasn’t being fair. It wasn’t right for me to ask you to hide who you are just because  _ I  _ am.” She shakes her head. “My brother. He. He risked his life to save Evan’s. He loves him so much that it didn’t matter that he was scared. And it… it makes all of the other bullshit seem. Stupid. Shallow.” Zoe blinks. “It made me realize how… stupid I’ve been. Letting you go just because I’m scared that… that people will find out I’m probably gay.”

Sabrina lets Zoe’s hands go. Looks at the table. Zoe’s heart is thudding hard in her chest. She takes a drink of her coffee. 

“You…what do you mean you’re  _ probably  _ gay?”

Zoe shrugs. “I mean. I love you.” She swallows. “But I… I don’t really know. If that’s me. I’m. I’m not confused about how I feel about… about you. But the rest of it is… kind of confusing? Like. I don’t.  _ Feel  _ gay. If that makes any sense? I know how I feel about you but… but I’m not sure how I feel about  _ myself _ ?”

Sabrina nods. “You don’t need to, like, come out right now if you’re not ready. If you’re not, like, sure. I don’t want to pressure you into that.”

Zoe’s confused now. “But you said…”

Sabrina sighs. “I know what I said. But it doesn’t have to be like. Right away? If you need time to. Like. Figure stuff out. Then that’s okay.”

Zoe feels herself deflate. “You don’t want me anymore.”

“I love you,” Sabrina says. Like she means it. “But this isn’t about me. You need to be ready to come out. On your own terms. So if you need time before we… go public. Then that’s okay.”

Zoe nods. She’s confused. She doesn’t know what Sabrina is saying. “So where does that leave us?”

Sabrina smiles. “I love you. You love me. And…. I want you to be my girlfriend. But if you need some time before we get to that point, then we can take our time.”

Zoe is so fucking relieved. She starts to cry. “Thank you.” 

Sabrina takes her hand again. 

“I just… maybe we take it slow?” Zoe says. “Figure it out as we go?”

“Okay,” Sabrina says. She’s smiling now. “We can do that.”

Zoe smiles back. 

Sabrina’s smile fades a little. “But uh. The… the drugs.”

Zoe knew that was coming. She frowns a bit. “I haven’t touched anything since Monday. I swear. I… I was being stupid. And I don’t want to do that anymore okay? I… I almost killed Connor. And my dad is gonna make me, like, go to therapy and whatever so… I’m. Working on it.”

Sabrina looks relieved. “Okay.”

But then she gives Zoe another look. One that scares her. “I’m not asking to be… petty and jealous. But. Did you really sleep with Jared?”

Zoe feels cold then. Feels the blood drain from her face. She feels sick. Cold and sick. She doesn’t want to talk about this. But she owes Sabrina honesty. “I. Yeah. A few times, actually.”

Sabrina looks sad. “Is it because I slept with Michael?”

Zoe shrugs. “That’s part of it. I just… I wanted to feel normal. I was like. Totally freaking out. And it was. So bad the first time.”

Sabrina looks sympathetic. “Just kind of mediocre when you’ve had the real thing, huh?”

Zoe tries to nod but her eyes have filled with tears. Her body is a traitor. She hates it. 

“Zoe?”

“It hurt a lot,” Zoe says. Her voice is shaky. “He d-didn’t believe I was a… that I hadn’t done it before. And there was a lot of blood.”

Sabrina looks sad. “I’m so sorry.”

Zoe shrugs. “He was just sort of a jerk about it. Didn’t really care how it felt for me. He saw the blood and like. He was  _ excited _ about it.”

“Fuck. He’s such an asshole.”

Zoe nods. She can’t stop talking, it seems. “And the c-condom fell off. I had to go buy the morning after pill?” She shakes her head. “I felt like. Such an idiot.”

Sabrina looks so sad. “Oh Zoe. I’m sorry. That’s awful.”

She shakes her head. “It’s fine you know. I tried it and it sucked so. Whatever. It’s not a big deal.”

Sabrina looks like she wants to protest. 

But Zoe can’t stop herself from going on. “Just like. It really hurt the first time. It never hurt with you and… and I didn’t really want to keep going and Jared just sort of ignored me.”

Sabrina’s face goes pale. “What?”

“Yeah and I mean I really pissed Madison off. It was shitty of me to sleep with Jared when I know she likes him. It was a shitty thing to do. She was pretty pissed. And… I mean maybe it doesn’t matter since she’s not really talking to me anymore but… I feel bad about it. She was my friend.”

“Zo.”

“And maybe if it hadn’t been so bad I wouldn’t feel so gross about the whole thing,” she goes on. “But like. It sucked. It hurt and he thought it was  _ funny.  _ You know?”

“You didn’t want to keep going?” Sabrina says. “And he didn’t stop?”

Zoe shrugs. “I know. It’s pretty embarrassing, right? I didn’t even get off. Not even close.”

“Zoe.”

“He got all sweaty too and it was not cute. Like. I just didn’t like it. He was kind of a jerk about it. So I’m probably gay? Because it sucked that much. Like. Every time. Right? If sex with a guy hurts and sucks every time, I’m probably gay.”

“Did you tell him to stop?” Sabrina asks. “The first time, did you tell him to stop?”

Zoe shrugs. “I… yeah. He like… pulled out for a second, but then kept going or whatever.”

Sabrina looks horrified. “Zoe.”

“Yeah, it’s. Embarrassing really. That I lost my virginity or… my  _ guy _ virginity to him or whatever. Do you get one for each, do you think?” She shrugs. “At least Michael wanted to make sure you were into it, right?”

“You told him to stop and he didn’t stop,” Sabrina says. “Zoe that’s. Not okay.”

Zoe shrugs. Sabrina’s not listening. She’s not understanding. “It was my idea to have sex with him.”

“But you told him to stop,” Sabrina says. 

Zoe suddenly understands what Sabrina is saying. “No, okay, I’m making it sound worse than it was. It’s not a big deal. It was my idea, you know? To have sex. So like. I mean he’s a guy. They can’t just stop once they start.”

“Yes they can,” Sabrina says. “ _ Zoe _ .”

Zoe actually laughs. “Stop okay? You’re acting like he raped me or whatever. It was just bad sex that I didn’t want to be having.”

Sabrina’s face is so pale. Zoe doesn’t know why she even said that. She’s being stupid. “Because it was bad,” Zoe says again. “It wasn’t like he had a gun to my head or anything.”

“Zoe,” Sabrina says quietly. 

“No,” Zoe says. Her voice is shaking. “It’s not like he raped me.” She doesn’t know why she says it again. Why she’d use that word. Her heart is racing. She tries to explain. Fix it. “I just didn’t want to anymore but we had already started. I’m just being kind of a baby about it. I know the first time hurts or whatever.”

“It’s not supposed to,” Sabrina says. “And if you don’t want to anymore. If you change your mind… then guys are supposed to stop.”

“But I said yes,” Zoe says. She’s trying to explain. To make Sabrina understand. That it wasn’t like  _ that.  _ She said yes. She brought it up. She took off her clothes. “It was my idea.”

“But then you said no,” Sabrina says. She sounds so devastated. “And he didn’t stop. Zoe that’s… that sounds like…”

“I…” She’s crying. When did that happen? “But I said it was okay. I didn’t even stop talking to him. We even did a few more times...”

“I’m sorry this happened. I’m so sorry.”

“I said it was okay. Just a bad first time. I didn’t… I didn’t know what to expect because you’re right? It wasn’t anything like when we… it never h-hurt with you and… I just freaked out because it hurt, that’s all. I just panicked and got scared because of the blood. It wasn’t like he…” 

Sabrina looks so fucking sad. 

* * *

Zoe doesn’t seem to be able to continue. She’s just crying. 

There is a rock in Sabrina’s stomach. 

She’s just… horrified. 

Devastated. 

Furious at Jared fucking Kleinman. 

Why is it always Jared fucking Kleinman who’s messing with the people she cares about? What the fuck is this guy’s problem?

That’s not important right now, she realizes. Her anger at Jared has to take a backseat here. 

Zoe needs her to not freak out. 

Weirdly, she thinks about Evan, the week after Connor’s note went on the school website. How she’d had to stop him from just punching Jared in the face. 

Fuck. She wishes she hadn’t. 

The guy’s a fucking trash can. Worse, he’s the shit that remains after you try to clean the trash can, the disgusting garbage that you can’t get fucking rid of. 

She could kill him. She could genuinely kill him.

But if Evan could stop himself from punching Jared in that moment, then she can have some fucking self-control here. 

“I am so fucking sorry,” she says to Zoe. “But what he did was not okay. It wasn’t just bad sex, it was…” She bites her lip. Tries not to cry. “I know you don’t want to hear this, I know, but that was rape, Zoe. And I’m so fucking sorry it happened to you. You don’t deserve it. No one deserves it.”

Zoe shakes her head. “No,” she says, a little weakly. “It’s not rape if I was the one who wanted to have sex in the first place, it’s not-”

“It is,” Sabrina tells her, in what she hopes is a firm but kind tone. 

Zoe’s quiet. 

She’s crying. 

Sabrina’s heart is breaking. She squeezes her hand. “I’m so sorry,” she says quietly. “Do you… it’s up to you what you want to do, but if you wanted to talk to someone? Like, go to the police-”

“No fucking way,” she says immediately. “You know they’re just gonna laugh at me, and it’s not like I have… it’s not like I have proof.”

Sabrina hates that she’s right.

Hates that everyone in this town is so fucking rich that paying off the police is common practice. She remembers Alana doing a presentation about the number of DUI arrests in Newport Beach in sophomore year and telling everyone that the data is skewed because rich white folks don’t get arrested. 

Mrs. Collins had given her detention. 

She’s not teaching anymore, thank fuck. Racist bitch. 

“Okay,” Sabrina says after a while. “I’m here for whatever you need, okay? I’m here if you wanna… if you want to talk or just scream for a bit, or… anything. I’m here.”

Zoe nods. She takes a napkin and blows her nose. Looks around the mostly abandoned Starbucks. Shudders a little.

“I feel like someone got, like, a cheese grater and rubbed it all over my skin?” she says, something desperate in her tone. “And I know I’m going back to school on Monday and I should get used to being around people, but I…”

“You wanna go home,” Sabrina supplies quietly. She nods. “Okay. Let’s get you home.”

“Come over?” Zoe asks, even more desperately. 

Sabrina hesitates. “Your mom might have something to say about that,” she says carefully. 

Zoe looks at her. Blinks. “My mom’s in rehab.”

Sabrina stares at her for a moment. “Since when?”

Zoe sighs. “Since Tuesday. She checked herself in right after Connor…”

Sabrina feels her shoulders tense. Right after?

She checked herself into fucking rehab the day after her kid ODed? 

If that’s not running away from your problems, Sabrina has no idea what is. 

She decides not to say anything. Smiles at Zoe warmly. 

“Okay,” she says. “Let’s go back to your place, yeah?”

Sabrina insists on ordering a drink for Zoe’s dad and grandmother when Zoe confirms that they’re both home. Zoe admits she has no idea what her Granny’s Starbucks order is or if she even has one, but they end up getting them both hot chocolates. 

“Granny’s got a sweet tooth,” Zoe says as they walk back to the car. “I think she’ll like it.” She looks at Sabrina. “Have you talked to your grandparents since you came out? Are they, like, okay about it?”

Sabrina smiles a little. “They send me things,” she tells her. “Little parcels, all of the time, just because. They called me after it all went down to tell me that they loved me. Flew me out to San Francisco the weekend after my birthday for a break.”

She looks at Zoe, who looks like she’s putting something together. “I drove myself crazy wondering why you weren’t at school,” Zoe admits. “After you had dinner on your birthday with my brother.” 

“And Alana and Evan,” Sabrina points out. She looks at Zoe, whose cheeks are pink. She’s frowning unhappily. “I didn’t replace you with Connor, Zoe.”

Zoe doesn’t look at her. “Felt like it.”

“Connor’s a good friend,” Sabrina says cautiously. “But the way I feel about you? It’s not even in the same universe. It’s completely different, okay?” 

When they get back to the Murphys, they head into the kitchen to find Zoe’s Granny is cooking. Sabrina’s not sure what at first, but it does smell good. She stops what she’s doing when she sees them both come in and washes her hands. 

Looks Sabrina up and down. 

“You must be Sabrina, then,” she says in a lilting Irish accent. 

“I am,” Sabrina says awkwardly, then hands her a cup of hot chocolate. “This is for you, it’s hot chocolate.”

Granny Murphy looks at her for what feels like a long time, something assessing in her gaze. 

Then she smiles. Takes the hot chocolate. 

“That’s very kind, Sabrina,” she says. Pats her arm. “I’m just making some meals to go into the freezer. Need to make sure everyone’s eating well. It’ll be even more important when Connor’s home.”

“When is he coming home?” Sabrina asks Zoe’s dad. 

He looks really old. He’s always looked older than Sabrina’s dad because of the gray hair, but he just looks super old now. 

Mr. Murphy frowns a little. “We don’t know,” he admits. “He’s got a lot of work to do.” He takes a deep breath. “But it was his decision to move to the psychiatric floor, even though it meant leaving Evan. And that’s… that’s a big step for him.”

Sabrina hands Mr. Murphy the last hot chocolate. Mr. Murphy offers her a weak smile. 

“If there’s anything I can do,” she says, trying to keep her voice confident, “just let me know, okay? Tell Heidi that too, when you see her next.”

Mr. Murphy takes a sip of his hot chocolate. Nods. Smiles a little more convincingly this time. 

Then Zoe’s holding Sabrina’s hand. 

Leaning her head on her shoulder. 

Mr. Murphy’s smile gets even more real. 

And something inside Sabrina loosens a little. 

* * *

The room feels bigger without Connor. 

Evan hates it. He hates it a lot. 

It’s too big, too overwhelming, and every time he wakes up it all just feels so much worse. The enormity of what’s happened hits him all over again and it’s all just… too big. 

With Connor gone, he feels alone. Completely alone. 

Which is what he deserves, obviously. It’s what he deserves. 

He’s ruined everything. Ruined it all. 

He spends a lot of time between asleep and awake. He’s drifting in and out when he hears Heidi talking to someone on the phone. 

It takes him a while to tune into the conversation. 

“... nothing’s set in stone yet, nothing’s for sure,” she says, her voice thin and exhausted. “But I feel it in my gut, Laurel. They’re not going to let me keep him.”

There’s a pause. Evan can’t hear Laurel talking. All he can hear is Heidi sniffing, like she’s trying very badly not to cry. 

“I failed him,” she says after a while. “I failed him, he was in my care and he tried to kill himself. Because I lost my temper, I made him think that I didn’t care, I didn’t believe him. I did this, Laurel,  _ I _ put him here.”

There’s another long pause. 

“What’s going to happen to him if they take him away from me? Will he be  _ safe _ , how are they going to…” She’s crying now. Quietly sobbing. 

He wishes he could hold her hand. Wishes he could pull her into a hug and hold her and tell her it’s not her fault. 

None of this is her fault. 

He was stupid. He was so stupid, he just wanted to make things easier on her and all he’s done is make it worse. So much worse. 

“Larry says he’ll help,” Heidi says after another long pause. “But he’s got Connor to worry about, not to mention Zoe, and I can’t let him worry about this, too, I-”

Another long pause. 

It breaks Evan’s heart, it might actually be breaking his heart clean in two.

“I love him so much, Laurel,” Heidi sobs, and it’s the worst thing he can imagine, it hurts to hear this because he knows he’s not worth it. He knows. “I love him and I’m going to lose him and it’s my fault. This is all my fault.”

He’s hurting her. 

She’d have been so much better off if he’d just… 

He shudders. 

Shivers. 

He’s cold. It’s cold here. 

There’s a hand in his forehead, pushing away his hair, and he can feel a blanket being tucked in over him. He fights to open his eyes and sees Heidi’s tear-stained face hovering over him. She smiles a little when she notices he’s looking at her. 

“Hey sweetheart,” she says, sniffling. “You doing okay?”

“Not your fault,” he tells her weakly. “Not your fault, Heidi, I-”

Her eyes fill with tears. She looks so crushed. 

Evan’s just fucking everything up. 

It could be two days after Connor leaves, maybe three, but he wakes up and feels clearer. Clear enough that they decide that it’s time he talked to someone from psych. 

He doesn’t know if he’s ready. Not really. 

But it’s not like he has a choice. He’s going to have to talk to someone. 

The doctor sits in the chair next to his bed. In Heidi’s chair. She’s young, or at least she looks young, and she’s got a kind face. 

She asks a lot of questions. Questions about how he’s been feeling, about his past, about what happened. He answers them the best he can. Tries to be careful, tries to make sure he doesn’t sound crazy but...

It’s exhausting. 

He’s exhausted. 

Why is he even bothering with this? They shouldn’t be helping him. 

No one should be helping him. 

He’s not worth it. All he does is hurt people. 

“There’s no point. In any of this.”

The doctor pauses. Looks at him. “What do you mean by that, Evan?”

He’s so fucking tired. “I f-fucked up,” he says wearily. “I made everything worse, and Heidi blames herself and-and they’re going to t-take me away from her. They’re going to put me back in the foster system, and… and th-this will all have been a waste of time and money and…”

The doctor sighs. Puts her clipboard down. She looks… really fucking sad. 

Fuck. 

He’s even bumming out the psych doctor, fuck. 

“It wasn’t her,” he tells the doctor. “It wasn’t Heidi, it’s not her f-fault I’m so f-fucked up. And-and this is cruel. To her. She’s s-so worried about me and she shouldn’t be, she shouldn’t worry because they’re going to take me away from her and she’ll blame herself when I…”

He can’t finish. 

He can’t say it. 

The doctor looks at him, something firm in her expression. “When you what, Evan?”

He’s so tired. 

He shakes his head the best he can. 

“Evan,” she says carefully. “I need you to answer me honestly. Do you have a plan to hurt yourself again once you leave the hospital?”

“I don’t need one,” he says, not looking at her. “They’ll t-take me away from Heidi and put me into foster care or group home and I… it won’t be good. If I’ve f-fucked up my body as badly as everyone says… I’m not  _ stupid _ , I know that no one cares. That if they take me away from Heidi, no one’s ever going to care about me again. I’m just going to have to suck it up and it would be… it would be so easy to disappear. It wouldn’t… it wouldn’t take any effort at all.” He closes his eyes tightly. “It would have hurt less if Connor hadn’t found me. It wouldn’t hurt at all, I’d be…”

It’s quiet for a long time. 

“I want to be sure I understand,” says the doctor, her voice so careful. “Are you saying that you wish Connor hadn’t found you? That you hadn’t survived?”

Evan opens his eyes. Looks at her helplessly. “I don’t know,” he admits. “Maybe? It’s… I hurt them. I hurt Heidi so much, I know I did. Connor’s… Connor’s still here, Connor overdosed because of me. And if I have to leave, it’s going to hurt them all over again. I just…” He leans back against his pillow. Stares at the ceiling. “At least if I’d died, it would have only hurt them once. But I survived and I just… I keep hurting everyone around me, and it isn’t fair. It isn’t fair on anyone.” 

“You’ve said that a few times now,” the doctor says, still in that patient, careful voice. “That you hurt the people around you. How are you hurting them, Evan? Can you tell me more about that?”

He closes his eyes. Tries to figure out how to put it into words. 

He’s so tired. 

“I hurt them,” he says finally, “by letting them care about me when I know that they shouldn’t. By letting them care when I’m only going to let them down.”

* * *

The psych floor is mostly boring, Connor thinks. He has tons of time where he’s just… not doing anything. 

It makes him a little crazy during those times. Knowing Evan’s just downstairs. That Connor could just go and talk to him if he wasn’t  _ here.  _

It’s dumb and he hates it. 

But other times it’s not like. So bad. 

He’s allowed to have visitors. His dad and Zoe and Granny come see him on Sunday. 

They say Evan’s fine. 

Which is good. 

Connor knows it’s good. 

On Monday he has his first meeting with a group. There’s one for everyone on the floor, of all ages. That one wigs him out a little. There’s a guy in there who talks about hearing voices and accuses Connor of working for the government. All Connor can manage to say is that he’s only seventeen before the guy ends up needing to be taken back to his room. He’s beating himself over the head and saying he knows he’s being watched. 

It scares the shit out of Connor. 

On Monday afternoon he meets with another group. This one is specifically for people with eating disorders. It also sort of wigs Connor out. 

But that’s mostly because the room is full of girls. 

All too skinny and all very pretty in ways that remind Connor of his sister. They all are complaining about how cold the room is when Connor steps inside and grabs a seat in the circle. 

One of them stares at him. “You’re probably in the wrong place,” she says matter-of-factly. 

“Sorry?”

“This is the ED group,” another girl says. “The one for junkies is down the hall.”

Her tone is not terribly inviting. 

And besides Connor is supposed to go to the junkie group  _ tomorrow.  _

But he just crosses his arms over his middle and says nothing. 

The facilitator walks in a minute or two later. “Oh good you’ve all met Connor,” she says. Connor’s met her before; they were introduced this morning. Whitney. She’s got white girl dreads and generally smelled like BO. Some kind of crunchy granola woman. “He’s going to be joining us for a bit.”

The girls all look suspicious. 

Per crunchy granola Whitney’s instructions, they all go around and introduce themselves. Name. Age. A fun fact about themselves. 

The girls who told Connor he didn’t belong there are Phoebe and Sydney. Nobody has been asked to announce their diagnosis but most of them do. 

“Phoebe. Nineteen. Anorexia. My fun fact is that I’m majoring in fine art.”

“Sydney. Seventeen. Bulimia. My fun fact is that I’m from Ohio.”

Connor can’t help himself. His brain decides she looks like someone from Ohio. Boring. Bitchy. Is Ohio the midwest? She looks like she grew up around corn. 

When it’s Connor’s turn he clears his throat a few times before he can make his voice work. “I’m Connor. Seventeen. My fun fact is…” Fuck he cannot come up with a single “fun” thing about himself. “My sister and I are a year apart but we have the same birthday.”

“Thanks, everybody,” Whitney says. She starts talking them through a breathing exercise. Connor fails to see how this is supposed to make him want to eat more. 

People are invited to share how they’re feeling. A girl named Lindsay goes on and on about how she feels super gross whenever she eats. How she lives on the beach and sees all these girls in their string bikinis and hates them because she doesn’t look the way they do. Phoebe volunteers that she kind of feels the same. “Look like. I know I’m not  _ actually  _ fat. I’ve spent a lot of time looking at myself in the mirror lately. I know I’m not fat but… but I’m just. Wrong? You know. I don’t look right.”

Sydney talks about how puking made her feel powerful. Until she felt like she  _ had  _ to eat like. All of the food in the room and throw it up. “At first it was like. A control thing. But then it was like… totally out of control. I  _ had _ to do it. If I didn’t I felt disgusting. I’m like. Obsessed. Where’s the nearest bathroom? Do I have mints? Will I get caught?”

Connor mostly listens. Until Whitney calls on him. “What about you Connor? Does any of this resonate with you?”

He nods awkwardly. 

All of the girls look at him with their eerily similar skinny faces and big eyes. 

“I guess?” He says. “Like the… the thing about control. I’m… kind of a freak? I guess. I know that guys…” he shrugs. “But eating is like. This thing that nobody else can like. Make me do? So when other shit is… hard or whatever. I can just decide I don’t want to. I can. Control it.” He shrugs. “I mean. I’m in high school. I don’t have a lot of control over other stuff.”

People nod. One girl snaps. 

“Fucking preach dude,” she says. Her name is Laura. “Like. So I’m a sophomore, right? And everything is like. Already planned out for me. I’m gonna get a 4.0 and graduate top of my class and go to Yale like my parents. I get up at four-thirty every day to work out before school. I go to school from seven to three. Then it’s cheer practice. Then I have dance three nights a week. I’m busy because everyone tells me I have to be. So it’s like… I also wanna fit into my prom dress, so I skip lunch. And breakfast too. You know? It’s the one thing I can decide to do.” She shakes her head. “I’m a flyer on the cheer squad. I  _ have  _ to be tiny. People need to be able to throw me around. So I control how tiny I am.”

Connor thinks Laura looks sort of scary. Like a skeleton with skin stretched over her bones. 

“But then I stopped getting my period and my mom was like  _ convinced  _ I was pregnant,” Laura says. 

Lots of other girls murmur in agreement. Connor can’t relate to that. He didn’t even know that was a thing. 

But the group isn’t like. So bad. Phoebe is actually kind of nice. She tells him she’s an artist after group ends. “I’m doing portraits of everyone in group. It’s, like, political. If you wanted to pose for me sometime that would be cool.”

Connor’s not sure about that. He doesn’t really wanna see how this girl sees him. He doesn’t know her. He says he’ll think about it. 

Some of the girls are outpatient, like Phoebe, but some of them are inpatient like Connor. Laura’s one of them. Connor initially thinks she’s not the sort of person he wants to get to know but then she unzips her huge hoodie and he sees she’s wearing an MCR shirt. They talk about music for a bit. Turns out she was at the Panic! show in December. Apparently everyone even vaguely emo in the entire LA metro area was at that show. 

She goes with Connor to dinner and sits with him. She tells him he has “really great hair” and that the doctors here aren’t assholes if you can’t finish your food. 

“You just gotta remind them you’re ED and they’ll like lose their shit if you eat even half of it.”

Connor appreciates not having to sit alone. The psych ward seems to have the same rules as a high school cafeteria. It weirds him out. When he was here last time he was medicated to high heaven. Antipsychotics and all of that shit. He barely remembers it. 

This time he remembers everything. Like how nobody really seems  _ that  _ crazy. Even the guy who thought Connor worked for the government is sort of normal by dinner time. He sits quietly with some of the other old dudes and talks loudly about fishing. 

Laura smiles at him. “So what did you do to end up here?” She asks him. “I fainted at school and smacked my head on a table. They didn’t even think I was a head case at first until they found my food diary in my bag looking for my insurance card.”

Connor frowns. “I um. I overdosed on some pills.”

“Oh shit. On purpose?”

Connor shrugs. “I’m not even sure anymore.”

“That sucks,” Laura says. 

Connor couldn’t agree more. 

* * *

Even though she wants to, Sabrina doesn’t offer to pick Zoe up for school on Monday. It’s best if she drives herself, she thinks. Just so she has an escape route if she needs it. 

But Zoe does text her when she gets to the parking lot of school and asks if Sabrina can walk with her into school grounds. 

Sabrina’s happy to do that. Happy to provide that security, provide something. 

She’s going a little bit crazy, not being able to do anything about the shit that’s going down. She can’t fix what’s wrong with Connor or Evan, but she can help Zoe, at least a little bit. 

That’s something. That has to be something. 

Sabrina’s not stupid. She knows that it’s going to be a weird day. Not only will it be the second week that Evan and Connor have been missing from school, it’s also the day that Brian, Chad, Jared, Tommy, and Madison are back from having been suspended. 

Who the fuck knows what people are going to be saying? 

Zoe’s been off school, too, and the rumor mill is already flying about that. 

Coming onto school grounds with Harbor’s newest lesbian? 

It’s not going to help her keep a low profile. 

But she asked. 

She asked, and Sabrina won’t say no. 

She’ll do whatever Zoe asks right now, because Zoe’s not asking her to hide anymore. 

And that means everything. 

Absolutely everything. 

Sabrina’s not stupid. She might not be as academically smart as Evan and Alana, but she’s got a much better handle on the whole social nuance thing. She understands how things work around here. She knows she made things hard on herself when she came out, and honestly, she’s dealing with it pretty well because she more or less knew what to expect. 

But also because she knows that in the end, she’s not really anyone. 

The social hierarchy is bullshit. She definitely agrees with that. But just because it’s bullshit doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. 

Zoe is Cynthia Nichols’ daughter. 

That means something around here. 

And yeah, Sabrina’s dad is a doctor, but he’s not from Orange County. Her mom is, but before she married Sabrina’s dad, she wasn’t really anyone. 

Sabrina didn’t have as far to fall. 

She knows that. 

She knows this is going to suck for Zoe. She knows. And now that Zoe’s not just, like, flat rejecting the idea of anything between them that’s not completely in the shadows, she’s willing to be as patient as she needs to be to make things suck less. 

Even if it’s just a little. 

Sabrina walks Zoe to class. Zoe smiles at her nervously and says she’ll see her at her locker after first hour. 

Sabrina wants very badly to kiss her.

But she doesn’t do it. 

It isn’t until the teacher starts talking that Sabrina remembers that Jared’s in her first hour English class. So are Chad and Tommy. 

The three of them seem so fucking pleased with themselves. They’re sitting together and laughing, enough that the teacher stops them and gives them all detention, but they don’t seem to care about that. 

Sabrina glares daggers at them from her seat. 

She could kill Jared for what he did. To Zoe. To Evan and Connor. 

But mostly to Zoe. 

Fuck. 

Now that Zoe’s not here and it’s just Sabrina and her anger, she’s fucking furious. Just keeps having vivid fantasies of launching over her desk and punching Jared in the face. Pushing him to the floor and kicking the shit out of him. 

She’s not naturally a violent person but fucking hell she wants to destroy him right now. 

Jared seems to notice her glaring. 

He has the fucking nerve to wink at her. 

To fucking wink. 

When class is over, Jared and Tommy and Chad all walk to the lockers the same direction she’s going. When they’re far enough away from the classroom, Jared starts up his bullshit. 

“Sorry to break up your little freak family, Patel. Where are Chino and Quitter, anyway? Murder-suicide pact?”

She’s going to fucking destroy him. 

She stops in her tracks. Jared stops, too, smirking at her. 

“You’re a fucking disgusting excuse for a human being,” she tells him, making sure her voice carries. “You’re less than garbage, you know that? Fucking garbage is too good for you.”

Jared takes a step toward her. He’s overly confident with Chad and Tommy flanking him. “You don’t get to talk to me like that, you dyke bitch. No one gives a fuck about you.”

Sabrina doesn’t hesitate. 

She punches Jared in the face. Hits him right on the nose. 

He goes down hard, glasses flying down the hallway. 

“No one gives a fuck about me?” she asks, looking down on him in disgust. “Maybe not. But that just means I can do whatever the hell I want.”

“You bitch,” Jared snarls from the floor. He’s bleeding. “You fucking psycho, you-”

Sabrina doesn’t care what he’s saying. Just looks at Chad and Tommy, who are staring at her like she’s an alien. “Go ahead and tell everyone your buddy got his ass kicked by a dyke bitch while you just stood there like useless shitheads. I fucking  _ dare  _ you.”

It’s not going to change things in the long run. 

And her hand hurts. 

But at least she feels a hell of a lot better.

* * *

Zoe hears about Jared from the man himself. 

Well. 

He’s not a man. Not really. He’s definitely a boy. 

Definitely a boy. No man would be this stupid. 

His nose is swollen. He’s getting bruises under his eyes. 

“So, what happened to Chino and Quitter?” He asks, all friendly and casual and leaning against her locker. 

Zoe narrows her eyes. “What happened to your face?”

“I walked into a door,” he says dismissively. “So what happened? Did they  _ Thelma and Louise?  _ Go on a murder spree and kill themselves? Why aren’t they here?”

Zoe glares at him. Says nothing. Her jaw won’t move. 

Jared frowns. “Look prices go  _ up _ every time you’re a bitch to me. You gotta know that.”

Zoe says nothing. Inside she’s screaming that he’s an asshole and a monster and that he definitely didn’t run into a fucking  _ door _ . More likely he ran into someone’s fist. And if he doesn’t get the fuck away from her he’ll run into another. 

She thinks stupidly that she should have asked Connor how to throw a punch. Obviously he knows how. 

She starts to walk away from her locker. 

Jared grabs her arm. Zoe freezes. 

“Seriously Murph, where are they?” He sounds a little… worried. Zoe realizes that he is scared he’s in trouble. “Did you forget our deal? You tell me where they are or those photos are the next thing on the school website. Everyone will know what a slut you are.”

Zoe tries to pull her arm free. He’s holding on so tight. She feels her heart start to race, to beat angrily and scared against her chest. She’s a bunny rabbit and he’s a fox. He’s got her trapped. People are watching. 

People are watching and Zoe can’t get her arm away. 

“Jared,” a voice behind her says. He grins almost ferally. 

Zoe doesn’t recognize the voice. She can’t see the person coming to talk to him. All she knows is that Jared’s still got a bruising grip on her arm and she needs to go she needs to go right now. Right now. 

He keeps grinning at whoever has approached. “Tommy. My man. How’s it going?”

“You really want Patel to come back and punch you again?” Tommy’s voice says. Zoe always forgets how  _ quiet  _ he is. He’s a quiet dude. Only loud when he’s high. Which is most of the time. Dude is always on something. Also when the fuck did Sabrina even see Jared to punch him? Since when does she punch people? “Leave poor Murph alone. She doesn’t wanna talk to you.”

Jared frowns. 

But he drops Zoe’s arm. 

Walks off. 

Zoe feels like she can barely breathe. 

Tommy’s face swims in front of her. 

“Hey,” he says quietly. 

“What the fuck do you want?” Zoe mutters. He’s one of the people who got Evan into trouble. Launched all of this shit. He set Evan up. He got him into the fight that scared him so much he ran off to see his dad who put him into the hospital. 

“Murph. Dude. I am… so sorry.”

Zoe doesn’t understand. “What are you talking about?”

Tommy looks embarrassed. “I got sent to the office this morning. To get yelled at about the thing with… Evan.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “Maddie and Jared and all them were talking trash but I overheard that… Connor and Evan are both in the hospital?”

Zoe glares at him. “Why didn’t you tell Jared?”

Tommy looks more embarrassed. “I hate that guy,” he mutters. “And what we did was… fucked up. Beyond fucked up.”

Zoe stares. 

“I didn’t know that… I didn’t even see anything. Maddie just told me to tell everyone that Evan said he was gonna kill Brian. I’m an idiot.”

“Why do you do everything she says?” Zoe says. 

Tommy shrugs. He looks super embarrassed. Ashamed almost. “Because if I don’t… she’ll tell everyone.”

“Tell them what?” Zoe demands. 

Tommy goes pale. “About what I did freshman year.”

Zoe doesn’t understand. 

“You’re really gonna make me say it?” Tommy says. He sounds so embarrassed. 

Zoe has no idea what he’s talking about. She tells him so. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I thought she told you because you’re besties or whatever,” Tommy mumbles. “She caught me freshman year. I threw a party at the beach house. Me and Qu- me and  _ Connor… _ ” He glances around quickly. “We like. Made out. We were both super fucked up. We held hands once in like. Third grade. I used to have a… thing for him. Madison snuck into the party and caught us. Connor bailed and she… If I don’t do what she says she’s gonna tell everyone.”

Zoe’s disgusted. “What the fuck?”

Tommy looks so embarrassed. 

“You’re gay?” She whispers. 

Tommy flinches. “Look. No. I dunno. It’s the only thing I’ve ever done.” He squints like things are too bright. Zoe doesn’t think she’s ever heard him talk this much. “Probably. Okay? Please don’t tell.”

Zoe laughs. She actually laughs. “You’re one of the people who made my brother’s life hell at this school. Why should I keep your secrets?”

“Because. Because you and Sabrina...” he whispers. 

Zoe stares. 

“I know you guys are…” He shrugs. “Please don’t tell. Please. I’m sorry about Evan and your brother. I didn’t know anybody would really get hurt. I’m sorry.”

“That doesn’t make any of this okay,” Zoe says viciously. 

“I know. I fucked up. I didn’t know…”

“Save it,” Zoe barks. “I need to go.”

She leaves Tommy standing by her locker. 

What the fuck what the hell what the actual  _ fuck.  _

This is too much information. Tommy Whittington is gay? He made out with her brother? 

Sabrina punched Jared?

That’s not what… 

Zoe doesn’t want her punching people Jesus fuck. 

Why did she come back to school? 

She goes and finds Sabrina at lunch. Before she gets a chance to say a word, Sabrina blurts out, “Zoe I’m so sorry I messed up and punched Jared. He was being a dick about Evan and Connor.”

Zoe stares. 

“Also I hate that guy,” Sabrina says, still going. “But I know you didn’t want me to go and kick his ass over what he did to you-” Zoe looks around, panicked, making sure nobody’s listening. Nobody seems to be. “But I’ve been taking this martial arts class and I guess I throw a good punch and I’m not sorry that I punched him because he  _ deserved  _ to get punched. More than punched. But I’m sorry I did it here. I know you…”

Zoe finds herself crying. “I don’t need that,” she says quietly. “Okay? I don’t need that.”

“I know. I know I fucked up. I’m sorry, I lost my temper,” Sabrina says. 

Zoe sniffs. “I have a headache,” she says. It’s not even a lie. Her head is too full of information. It’s making her brain hurt. She feels like her head might explode. “I think I’m going to go to the nurse.”

“I’ll walk you?” Sabrina says softly. 

“Okay.” Zoe grabs Sabrina’s hand. Holds it on the walk to the nurse’s office. 

“I’m really sorry,” Sabrina says again. 

“Just. Don’t punch anyone else okay?”

The nurse decides Zoe should go home. Apparently Zoe is describing a migraine. Zoe texts Sabrina to let her know. 

She calls her dad in the parking lot. 

“Come home, sweetheart,” he says. “If you feel up to it later, we’ll go see your brother. Okay?”

“Okay.”

When she gets home, Granny and Blanca are cooking together. Granny makes Zoe a mug of tea and gives her some Tylenol. She kisses Zoe’s head and tells her to get some rest. 

“I swear I tried to make it through the day,” Zoe says softly. 

“I know chicken. You did well. You’ll do the full day tomorrow, eh?”

“Okay,” Zoe agrees. She goes up to bed. Lies down and can’t sleep. 

She pulls out her phone. Debates texting Connor. But she decides that’s… stupid. He’s in the fucking hospital because he almost died. He doesn’t want to gossip about boys he might have made out with two years ago. 

* * *

Evan’s social worker comes to the hospital the day after his psych consult. 

He’s exhausted before the conversation even begins. Just completely drained. 

He knows what’s going to happen. 

He knows what’s coming. 

He just wants her to get it over with. 

“You’re putting me back into foster care,” he says dully as soon as they’re alone. “You’re taking me away from Heidi. Right?”

The social worker blinks. Looks at him. Tilts her head. “I’d like to hear what you think about that, Evan.”

Evan shrugs. Immediately regrets it, because it hurts. “Doesn’t matter what I think,” he says bitterly. “It d-didn’t matter b-before, why would it m-matter now?”

The woman looks sad. She sighs. “I’d like to hear your thoughts.”

“Ob-obviously I think it’s bullshit,” he says wearily, not looking at her. “Heidi is the only p-person who’s ever given a shit about me, it’s… it’s bullshit that I d-don’t get to stay.”

It’s quiet for a moment. “You left, Evan,” she says gently, like she’s trying to remind him. Like he might have forgotten, fucking hell. 

His brain is a fucking nightmare at the moment and he forgets a lot of stuff, sure, but only when he first wakes up. When he’s been awake for a little while, like he is now, he knows what’s going on. He’s not fucking stupid. 

“I kn-know this is my fault,” he says, still not looking at her. “B-but I didn’t leave because I wasn’t happy here, I l-left to protect them. B-because I fucked up, because they care too much.”

“They?” 

“Heidi,” he says immediately. There’s a stabbing pain in his chest. He swallows hard. It hurts. “Connor. Connor cares, and it…”

Nearly got him killed. 

Landed him in hospital. 

He’s in the psych ward because Evan hurt him. 

It’s Evan’s fault. 

Maybe leaving would be kind. He should just…

The social worker clears her throat. “Evan. We want to make sure that you’re in the best place for you right now,” she says, not unkindly. “Somewhere you’ll be safe. We have our doubts about Ms. Herzberg’s ability to keep you safe-”

He can’t listen to this. He just can’t. 

“This isn’t her fucking fault,” he snaps. “It’s bullshit that you’re all blaming her for this, it’s… it’s bullshit. All she ever did was t-try to help me. It’s not her fault I’m fucked up, it’s n-not her fault I’m…”

He trails off. 

Heidi cares so much. 

She’s been here nonstop. Obviously she’s not going to work anymore. She’s stopped her entire life to look after him, to be here, and he loves her for it. 

He loves her. 

“She deserves a better kid,” Evan says flatly. “She deserves everything. But she got me. And… that sucks for her, to have such a fucked up kid, but it’s the best fucking thing to ever happen to me. So of course I’ve ruined it, of course you’re going to take it away.”

“We’re not trying to punish you,” the social worker says, sounding almost alarmed. “We’re trying to keep you safe.”

“Bullshit,” Evan says darkly. “If you take me away from Heidi, where am I going to go, huh? No one’s going to care about keeping me safe if you take me away from her. She’s the only adult who’s ever made me feel safe and you want to take me away from her.” He finally looks at her. “And maybe I deserve that. Maybe I don’t deserve someone as amazing as Heidi. I’m pretty fucking sure I don’t. But she loves me. And I… I love her, too, I love her the way I loved my mom, and that’s…” 

He blinks. 

Tries to wipe his face. 

He’s so fucking tired.

“It’s not what I expected when she first took me in,” he continues quietly. “It’s more than I deserve. But it’s true.” He wipes his face again. “I’m safe with her. If that’s what you cared about, you’d let me stay. But you don’t care. You don’t fucking care, no one fucking cares.”

“Evan-”

“If you cared about my safety,” he tells the social worker bluntly, “then you wouldn’t have put me with my dad when I was eleven.”

The social worker looks like she’s about to argue that she wasn’t personally responsible for that decision but he doesn’t care. He hasn’t even bothered to remember her name, she’s just a cog in this big stupid system that doesn’t give a shit about him. 

He’s done talking. 

He refuses to say anything until she leaves. 

* * *

When the social worker comes out of Evan’s room, she looks unhappy. Heidi’s not sure what to think. All she wants to do is demand this woman tell her what they talked about, but she knows that’s not going to help. 

She tries to smile at Heidi, though, which is something. 

Tells her that they still haven’t made a decision, but that they’re taking the doctor’s opinion into consideration. 

That they’ll be in touch with her to investigate further. 

Heidi’s tempted to just tell them to interrogate her now, to ask her anything they want to know, anything that’ll help them make some kind of decision so she doesn’t have to keep waiting. 

Waiting in terror that they're going to take her kid away. 

It’s the waiting that’s killing her. And she can tell it’s hurting Evan, too. 

He’s nervous and jittery and just… so sad. 

So fucking sad. 

He keeps apologizing. Apologizing for hurting her, for fucking up, and it’s heartbreaking how worried he seems to be about her. 

Heidi braces herself and heads back into Evan’s room. Sits down in her usual seat and holds his hand. 

His eyes are closed, but he opens them and looks at her. Seems relieved to see her. 

“How was that?” she asks gently. “Was that okay?”

Evan tears up immediately. “They’re not going to let me stay with you, are they.”

“I don’t know for sure,” Heidi says, her heart shattering in her chest, “but I’m going to do everything I can to keep you, okay? I love you. I’m not giving up without a fight.”

“I told her it wasn’t your fault,” he says, his voice thin and sad. “I don’t think she believed me. She kept talking about… keeping me safe.” He blinks. Weakly wipes his face with a shaking hand. “They don’t care, if they cared they’d let me stay.”

Heidi squeezes the hand she’s holding and tries to keep it together. 

She thinks he’s right. Can’t they see that putting him back in the system is just going to make things worse for him? 

What would happen to him if they did take him away? Where would he go? He’s so hurt, he’s in so much pain. Would they look after him properly? 

She knows she’s not perfect. Knows that without a doubt. 

If she were better, he wouldn’t have left. 

She wouldn’t have made him leave. 

He wouldn’t be here, wouldn’t be hurt so badly. 

“I love you,” she tells him fiercely. “Okay, kid? No matter what happens, that’s not going to stop. Even if we don’t see each other as much, even if they…” She sniffs. Blinks. Tries to collect herself. “I’ll do everything I can to stop that from happening, but if it does I’ll do everything I can do I can still see you, okay? I won’t give up, I won’t. I swear I won’t.”

“This is my fault,” Evan says unhappily. “I never want to hurt you, I’m so sorry I hurt you, I-”

“Just focus on getting better, sweetheart,” Heidi tells him gently. “Okay? Don’t worry about me. Try not to worry about all of this, just… just rest and heal and… it’s going to be okay.”

Evan’s face crumbles. “I’d miss you so much,” he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper. “If they took me away from you, I’d miss you so much.”

“I’d miss you, too,” she tells him. She can’t help it. She’s fully crying now. 

Just sobbing. 

Evan squeezes her hand. “Don’t… don't like that I made you cry.”

“I just really love you,” she manages to choke out. “You know that, right?”

Evan nods. “Yeah,” he says immediately. “I know. I…” 

He blinks. Squeezes her hand again. 

“I want to stay with you,” he says after a while. “I want to stay.”

“I want that, too,” Heidi says. She wipes her face. Squeezes his hand. “I was going to ask you on your birthday if you’d let me adopt you.” 

Evan’s eyes widen. 

He looks at her, clearly taken aback. “You want to adopt me?”

Heidi nods. “I really do,” she says. She swallows hard. “I started looking into it, going through the paperwork… I wanted to check with you to make sure it was what you wanted before I did too much, but…” She blinks. Wipes her face again. “I still want to. More than anything. We just have to take it one step at a time right now, though, okay? We have to be patient and…” 

She starts crying again. Evan squeezes her hand tighter. After a minute, he tugs on it a little. Heidi looks at him. 

“Can I give you a hug?” he asks, his voice so tentative. 

It makes her heart break all over again. 

But she nods. Moves herself so she can hug him. It’s awkward and tentative and she has to be careful of his injuries, but he’s still warm and solid and it helps. 

Helps ease the fear inside her, just a little. 

When they finally break apart, his eyes are barely open. He looks exhausted. 

She kisses his forehead. “Rest up, sweetheart,” she tells him. “I’ll be right here.”

* * *

Heidi’s still there when he wakes up next. Just like she said she would be. 

He’s stupidly grateful for it. Every time Evan wakes up, the reality of it all hits him again and he feels so completely alone. 

It’s nice to have someone there. 

Someone who cares. 

He’s dreaming about his mom again. He’s never sure what he’s going to get. Sometimes she’s looking after him, putting a blanket around his shoulders and holding him close, kissing his forehead and telling him he loves her. 

Other times she’s cold and unmoving in her bed and won’t wake up, no matter what he does. Or she’s dying in front of him, choking to death, and he can’t do anything to stop it. He can’t make any of it better. 

The worst times are when the two types of dreams bleed together. One moment she’s holding him and telling him that he’s safe, that she’s never going to leave him, only for her to start choking on vomit, her face a bluish-grey, the light fading from her eyes. 

This time’s not like that, though. 

In this dream, she was just… there. 

It was nice. Calm. He likes these dreams the best. 

It’s a little pathetic that even when the dreams are terrible, even when they’re horrific and heartbreaking, he’s still glad to see his mom. Sometimes Evan worries that he’ll forget what she looks like. He doesn’t even have a photo. 

He doesn’t have anything anymore, he remembers with a sinking feeling. 

He left everything he had by her grave because he hadn’t wanted to take it with him when he…

When he went to his dad’s. 

When he went to his death. Or what was supposed to be his death. 

He feels his eyes fill with tears. Tries to stop before Heidi notices. 

“Sweetheart,” she says softly. “You’re okay.”

He doesn’t want to tell her, but it pours out of him. “I l-l-left my m-m-m-mom’s stuff at-at her grave,” he manages to choke out. “I w-w-w-went to see her b-b-b-before I…”

He can’t continue. 

Heidi’s face goes pale. Her eyes go glassy. 

He is always hurting her. 

“You left the bag at her grave?” she asks, her voice a little choked. Evan nods. Heidi clears her throat. “Maybe it’s still there. I could drive out there tomorrow, see if I can find it.”

Evan shakes his head. Regrets it immediately, because it hurts like hell. “I d-d-don’t want you to g-g-go out of y-y-y-your way.”

“It’s important to you,” Heidi says firmly. “I’ll go look for it, okay sweetheart?”

“It m-might not even b-be there anymore,” he tries to tell her. He was so stupid to leave it there. Someone might have taken it. What the hell was he even thinking, leaving it there?

He was stupid. 

So fucking stupid, why is he so stupid?

“I’ll look anyway,” Heidi tells him. Something in her voice makes him think that he shouldn’t argue. “It’s worth having a look.”

She squeezes his hand. He lays his head back against the pillow. 

He’s too tired to argue with her. 

* * *

Evan goes back to sleep and Heidi takes a moment to just… process that. 

If she hadn’t been sure that Evan went to his dad’s to die before, she’s sure as hell convinced how. There’s no way he would have left his mom’s stuff at her grave unless he was genuinely planning to not to survive. 

It breaks her heart. 

Completely destroys it. 

Just…

With shaking hands, she pulls out her phone. Dials the number without even thinking about it. 

Larry answers on the first ring. “Heidi? Is everything okay?”

“How do you live with it?” 

Larry’s quiet for a moment. “Heidi?”

She looks at Evan, who’s still fast asleep. Moves away to make sure he can’t hear her. “How do you live with the knowledge that your kid wants to die? How do you stop it from crushing you?”

Larry sounds so sad when he replies. “You live with it because you have to. Because they need you to be strong.” He pauses for a moment. “And you  _ are  _ strong, okay? You’re doing this. And you’re not doing it alone.”

Heidi closes her eyes. Wipes her face. “I need a favor,” she asks weakly. 

“Anything,” Larry says immediately. “Anything you need.”

“Evan’s meeting with a physical therapist later this morning,” she says. “To try to get him moving a bit. He’s… it’s going to be hard on him, and he’ll probably sleep all afternoon, but I don’t want him to be alone and there’s something I need to do. Can you stay with him for a couple of hours?”

“Of course,” Larry says. He pauses for a moment. “Or is it something I can do for you? So you don’t have to leave him?”

Heidi really wants to say yes. 

To send Larry to the cemetery to find a small bag laid at a headstone instead of going herself. She doesn't want to be at a cemetery, not right now. She doesn’t want to face this. Doesn’t want to face any of it. 

But a part of her feels like it’s high time she met Evan’s mom. 

“Thanks for the offer,” she tells Larry. “But I think I need to do this on my own.”

Physical therapy leaves Evan shaking and exhausted. Heidi can see how frustrated he is, how angry he’s getting at himself, and it’s all she can do to stop herself from jumping in there and demanding that this physical therapist just let him rest. 

When it’s over, he falls asleep almost immediately. 

He’s still asleep when Larry and Agnes show up. Agnes has brought lunch for all of them. They’re only allowing 2 people in at a time, so Agnes sits out in the waiting area while Larry and Heidi sit in Evan’s room. 

“How’s Connor doing?” Heidi asks quietly as they sit and eat their lunch. 

Larry nods. “Better, I think,” he says, sounding unsure. “He asks about Evan. Asks if he’s okay.” 

“Evan’s asked after Connor, too,” Heidi tells him. She can’t help but smile. “They both seem to spend so much time worrying about each other.”

“They’ve got every reason to,” Larry replies, frowning deeply. He looks at Evan, who’s still fast asleep, and his face falls. 

In his sleep, he looks worse. When he’s not moving, it’s… 

It’s scary as hell. 

They keep eating, not really talking much, until Larry finally seems to give in. 

“You don’t need to tell me,” he says hesitantly, “but I have to admit I’m curious. What is it you need to do?”

Heidi looks at him. Debates telling him she doesn’t want to talk about it. 

Decides to be brave. “Evan’s mom was Jewish,” she says quietly. “He doesn’t have much of hers, but he has this little bag that has some of her belongings in it. Things that were important to her faith.” She can’t look at Larry as she continues. “Before he went to see his dad, he visited his mom’s grave. He left the bag there. I’m going to get it.” 

“It might not still be there,” Larry points out after a moment, his voice a little rough like he’s trying not to cry.

“I know,” says Heidi. “I just… I have to try.”

Evan’s still asleep when she goes to leave. Larry gives Heidi a hug before she goes. 

“I’ll keep him safe,” he tells her. “If anything happens, I’ll call you.”

“I know,” Heidi tells him. “I trust you.”

The drive to Chino is surprisingly quick. It doesn’t take her long to get to the cemetery. Takes her very little time to find Margaret Hansen’s grave. 

There’s a wreath sitting in front of it. It’s in surprisingly good condition, given that it’s been about a week and a half since Evan was here. 

Behind it, there’s the bag. 

Heidi feels like crying in relief. She knows how much this will mean to Evan. Knows how precious this to him. 

She should go, probably. Should go straight back to Evan. 

She doesn’t belong here. 

But Heidi finds herself sitting cross-legged in front of Margaret Hansen’s grave for what feels like a long time. 

Trying to work up the courage to say something. Trying to find the words to say.

After a while, something finally comes out. 

“I’m Heidi,” she says quietly. “I met Evan last August when he got into some trouble. It wasn’t his fault, not really, he was just… in the wrong place at the wrong time. With the wrong person. I was his attorney. I kept him out of juvie. And when he had nowhere else to go, I took him in. Kept him safe. As safe as I could. I did… I did everything I could to protect him. I promise that I did everything I could.”

She takes a deep breath. Continues. 

“I kind of hate you, you know that?” She laughs. “It’s a bitchy as hell thing to say to a dead woman, but I kind of hate you, because you left him. You left him, and he’s still suffering for it. It’s been nearly ten years and he’s still grieving you. You left, and he got shipped around foster homes, then left with Mark, who’s a real piece of work, by the way, you have terrible taste in men.” Heidi wipes her face. “But you probably knew that.”

She picks at some grass. Looks at the headstone. 

תנצב''ה

She’s not a hundred percent confident in her Hebrew. Not really. But she’s seen this on graves before. It’s from 1 Samuel. It’s about the soul being bound in the bond of eternal life. She thinks. 

Fuck. She really needs to brush up on her Hebrew. 

She and Evan were going to do it together. They talked about it. 

Never got around to it. 

“I don’t know how to be someone’s mom,” she tells Margaret. “I’m a workaholic lawyer with very little work-life balance. And I’ve tried, I really have, but I haven’t always got it right. I wasn’t… I wasn’t always there when I should have been. But I promise you I will not leave him, okay? I’m staying. I’m not giving up on him.” She’s given up on fighting back tears. She’s at a cemetery. If there’s anywhere it’s okay to have a minor meltdown, it’s here. “They might not let me keep him. He got… he got really hurt? I am so sorry I couldn’t protect him from that, I couldn’t… protect him from the awful things in his head, that told him he should…” 

She takes in a shaky breath. 

“I don’t need to explain,” she continues. “You know this. I know you know this, it’s why you’re here. And it’s not fair you had to deal with that. Not fair that Evan does, too. It’s not fair at all. But he’s… you would be so proud of him? He’s such a good kid. He grew up to be such a good kid, and I’m going to everything I can to make sure he grows up to be a good man. I know he’s already making you proud. He’s just going to keep doing that, because he’s amazing.”

Heidi wipes her face. Stands up. 

“When he’s feeling better. When he’s feeling up to it. We’ll come back and see you, okay? I know I’m not his mom. I’m not you, I didn’t give birth to him and I wasn’t… I wasn’t there for all of it. I missed so much. And nothing I can do or say right now is going to make up for the fact that you’re not here.” She takes a deep breath. “I don’t know much about the afterlife or whatever, but. Maybe if you’re still around somehow, we could work together. We’re very different people, you and I, but we have something so important in common. So amazing and wonderful and smart and kind and tough.” 

She wipes her face again. 

“Our son is pretty great. Evan is pretty great. He loves you so much and he’s not going to forget you. Not ever. So we’ll see you again, okay? And I’ll do everything I can to keep him safe and happy and healthy. I swear I will.”

Her Hebrew is rusty and halted, but before she goes, Heidi prays. 

She’s not usually the kind of person who buys into this sort of thing, but as she stands at Margaret Hansen’s grave, she feels like she’s not there alone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! at the Disco  
> Chapter title from "Reinventing the Wheel to Run Myself Over" by Fall Out Boy


	54. Take the Fight From the Kid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uncertainty about Evan's future starts to take its toll.

Zoe is bringing food to the hospital. Granny has made up dinner for Heidi and Zoe knows they are letting Evan have visitors now. Sabrina went with Alana to see him the day before. 

She warns her he still doesn’t look good. “I like. Cried the whole time.”

Zoe clenches her jaw. She said she’d bring food. So. She’s bringing food, damn it. 

She’s not gonna pussy out. 

Besides, Evan is kind of her next stop on this little apology tour. Maybe if she hadn’t been so awful to him. Maybe if she hadn’t made him feel horrible about his (in retrospect) obvious crush on Connor… then maybe he wouldn’t have…

Maybe if she’d been smarter she would have realized why Jared asked her about Evan’s schedule that time. 

And after Zoe and Jared… started to have sex... After that whole thing she, like, realizes now how much of an asshole she was for trying to pressure Evan during their date. That was… so fucked up. Beyond fucked. Like who does that? Tries to force someone to have sex when they don’t want to? That’s bullshit. Total garbage. She’s an asshole for doing that. Maybe if she hadn’t… if she hadn’t touched him like that, hurt his feelings and called him names like that… treated him so badly after things didn’t go the way she wanted. 

This is at least partly her fault. 

So she has to go and see him. She has to. 

It’s not okay that she did any of the shit she did to Evan. He didn’t deserve it. He really didn’t. 

She’s an asshole and she owes him one hell of an apology. 

So after school, Sabrina and Zoe grab the food Granny Murphy made for Heidi and head off to the hospital. They ride the elevator and check in at the desk. Get visitors stickers to put on their clothes. 

Heidi looks very surprised to see Zoe. 

“Hi sweetheart, what are you doing here?” Heidi asks her. 

Zoe explains about the food. She has it in a little container meant to keep it warm. She holds it out to Heidi and then, very quietly, asks Heidi if it’s okay if she goes to see Evan. 

“It’s okay if he doesn’t want to see me,” Zoe says softly. Sabrina squeezes Zoe’s shoulder. “But I… I have a couple of things I want to say to him. A couple of things I wanna apologize for.”

Heidi looks surprised. She says she will check with Evan. Comes back a couple of minutes later. “Okay. He says you can come in,” Heidi says. She frowns slightly at Zoe. Assessing her. “Try not to upset him, okay? He’s had a rough couple of days since Connor… went to psych.”

“Okay,” Zoe says. She feels even more nervous now that Heidi’s said that. Fuck. She’s such an asshole. 

Heidi says she’s just going to eat her food but she will be back soon. Zoe knows this is so she can give them privacy to talk. Sabrina smiles at Heidi. 

Zoe sucks in a deep breath. She steps into the room. The lights are all turned low. The curtains are closed. 

“Hey,” Zoe says with a shaky voice when she steps inside. 

He still looks scary. A little inhuman. Not like himself. He’s so hurt. Zoe hates it. She really really hates it so much. 

Evan squints at her. “What are you doing here?”

Sabrina holds Zoe’s hand. Squeezes it tightly. 

“I… I wanted to see you,” Zoe says. “How are you?”

Evan shrugs then flinches like that hurt. Zoe feels like a dick. He practically stares her down and Zoe feels herself shrink. She’s not sure she can do this. She should just leave. She should just go. 

Zoe looks at Sabrina who nods at her to continue. “I owe you… an apology. Or. Like. Twenty.”

Evan looks confused. “Okay…?”

“I’m. Evan, I’m really sorry about how I treated you after our date,” Zoe says. It comes out like a whisper. A ragged whisper. Her eyes sting. “And  _ on  _ our date… that night at the beach house? That was not okay, me trying to  _ make  _ you…” She shakes her head. Blinks a few times.

Zoe sucks in a breath. “I shouldn’t have done that. At the beach house I should have checked in with you more, I should have listened better… I’m just so fucking sorry. I never should have said the shit I did about you after that. I shouldn’t have ditched you at Jared’s party. The names I called you are… not okay. It wasn’t okay what I did. I know that. And I’m so fucking sorry.”

Evan frowns at her. “What about Connor?”

Zoe’s not understanding. 

“What about the n-names you called him? The shit you s-said to him?”

Zoe hangs her head in shame. “I know. That was… so fucked up.” A few tears slip out. “I’ve been. A huge bitch. To both of you. And I’m so fucking sorry.”

Evan nods curtly. 

The rest of it just spills out of her. “And I… I should have  _ known _ what Madison and Jared and all of them were planning. I should have r-realized and warned you. I’m so sorry Evan. I was so stupid and selfish and… and  _ high,  _ and it wasn’t fair to you. None of this is fair to you.”

Evan just looks at her. His face is hard. He doesn’t look impressed. “He got them from you, didn’t he? The pills? Connor got them from you.”

Zoe nods. Bursts into fresh tears. “He did. And I… I’ll never forgive myself for having them in the house. For almost…I could have  _ killed _ him. I…” She just barely chokes back a sob. The fact is she nearly killed her brother. She almost killed him. She will never get over that. She will never ever be okay with that. 

“I’m done with all of that. I swear. I’m going to… to do better okay? I have been selfish and stupid and horrible to everyone I love. I almost got Connor killed. I don’t want to be that guy anymore.” It’s a weird way to phrase it but it’s how she feels. She’s the bad guy here, in both Connor and Evan’s stories. “I am just. Evan. I’m just so fucking sorry.”

“Have you apologized to him?” Evan asks. 

Zoe nods. Sabrina rubs her back lightly as she talks. “And I. I know it’s not enough… h-he told me he’s been waiting up for me and… I’ve been horrible. To you both. And I know you don’t deserve it. I know I… I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I’m not asking for that. But me and you? We were friends before I decided it was easier to be a bitch to you. And I know that’s not okay. I know I fucked up everything. I’m so sorry.”

Something in Evan’s face is raw and pained and he says, quietly, “I… it’s my f-fault. Too. About Connor. I was… stupid. I scared him.”

_ No shit.  _

Zoe wipes her eyes awkwardly. “Fuck can I like… hold your hand or whatever?” She asks Evan. “I’m so fucking sorry, Evan, I am just so sorry.”

Evan considers it. 

Frowns a bit. 

“I dunno. If I’m…”

“That’s okay,” Zoe rushes to say. “It’s fine. I’m sorry. I just. I can go…”

“No. Don’t.” Evan’s voice is pained and rough. He looks at her hard. “I… Thank you for apologizing.”

She nods. Wipes her eyes. Sabrina gets her a tissue. Zoe wipes her eyes. “I’m so sorry. Really. I’m so truly sorry.”

Evan nods. “I know.”

They all just sit with that for a few minutes. 

And then Sabrina volunteers, “I punched Jared in the face. Broke his nose, apparently.” She smiles awkwardly. “He came into my dad’s office to get it looked at yesterday.”

Evan stares. Smiles a little. “T-told you he deserved to be p-punched.”

“Yeah. You were right,” Sabrina says. She looks at Zoe for a moment. “He totally deserved it.”

Evan nods. “Should have let me punch him.”

“And risk getting you in trouble? No way man.”

Evan looks at Zoe then. Something unreadable in his expression. Like he’s remembering something but it took him a few minutes. “You drove Connor? To c-come to get me?”

Zoe nods miserably. “He was shaking too bad to drive himself. It was… so fucking scary, Evan. I’ve never been so fucking freaked out. I thought… I thought he was totally overreacting at first and then, he, like. Made me park outside your dad’s and… he was like ‘If I’m not back in fifteen minutes, call 911.’ I… it was so fucking scary.”

Evan looks at Zoe for a long moment. “How did h-he even f-f-find me?”

Zoe bites her lip. “He. I don’t really  _ know.  _ He said he… he said he uh. Went and talked to your dad.”

“What?” Evan’s face drains of color. 

Zoe nods. “Yeah. I…” she shakes her head. “The cops… we had to talk to the cops at the hospital.” She’s crying again. “Connor’s hands were all… all b-busted and bruised. I think he might h-have, like, gone after him or-or-or. He told the c-cops he like. Punched him. Or whatever. When your dad wouldn’t say where you were.”

Evan’s face is ashen. “He got in a fight with my dad?” 

He sounds horrified. Zoe feels guilty. 

“I don’t even… I’m not sure? Because like fifteen minutes later, he c-came out and he was like, dragging you to the car. He was all bloody. I’m not even sure whose blood it was… he told me to drive you to the hospital and so I did.” She quirks a small smile. “You uh. Woke up for a second to give me directions.”

Evan gives Zoe a weak smile. 

Sabrina wraps her arm around Zoe’s shoulder. “And then she called me, all freaked out. It was really  _ scary  _ Evan. We didn’t know if you’d even make it.”

Evan looks at Sabrina and Zoe. He frowns. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to w-worry anybody.”

“Well, we care about you. Of course we worried.”

Evan smiles awkwardly. His eyes are glassy. Zoe feels for him. She really does. She feels horrible. 

Sabrina leans over and kisses Zoe on the cheek. 

Evan looks confused. Then something seems to register. “Wait. Are… you two aren’t… are you?”

Zoe gives him a lopsided smile. “I’m in love with Sabrina,” she says plainly. Looks back at Sabrina. Smiles at her properly. “Have been for… ages.” She frowns back at Evan. “I’m sorry for calling you a… just. Turns out. Me too? I’m like. Into girls and… I guess I was projecting out some of my own internalized shit about being. Gay or whatever. And I’m really sorry for doing that to you.”

“Oh,” Evan says. He looks. Sad. Embarrassed. She’s not sure what he’s feeling. 

“Not that I’m saying that you are… just. I know you and Connor like. Hooked up or whatever.”

Evan’s cheeks go a soft pink. “He told you?”

Zoe nods. “He was. So scared for you? And I think he just. He thought that was why you ran away, you know? He thought you left because you were freaking out about… that.”

Evan nods. 

And then he lets out a short laugh. 

“What?” Sabrina says.

“There’s… gotta be. Something in the water.”

Zoe doesn’t know what that means but it makes Sabrina smile. Laugh softly. “Must be.”

* * *

Sabrina and Alana visit for a second time the next day. Sabrina cries less this time, which Evan’s kind of relieved about, to be honest. He hates that he’s upset her. 

Hates seeing her so upset. 

They don’t stay long. Alana brings Evan a chocolate milkshake from In-N-Out, which he appreciates after eating hospital mush for the last little while. His jaw hurts when he chews, which the doctors say make sense given how beaten up he is. 

It’s a good milkshake. 

It reminds him of the time Connor got him a milkshake after they ran into his dad after visiting the cemetery. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, he  _ hates  _ the fact that Connor confronted Mark. He hates it, he hates it so fucking much, it makes him want to scream and cry and punch things. 

Connor shouldn’t have done that. That was so fucking stupid, why the fuck would he do that?

No one told him that Connor did that. No one except Zoe. 

It makes him wonder what else people aren’t telling him. 

He’s still not sure if he’s completely okay with Zoe. She said that she wasn’t expecting his forgiveness, which is probably a good thing because she doesn’t fucking have it. Not yet. 

But there’s a part of him that’s pretty convinced that he’ll get there. That Zoe seemed genuinely sorry, that apologizing to Connor is a huge deal. 

She drove Connor to come to get him. 

She helped save his life. 

She helped Connor when he needed help. 

That’s what’s the most important, he thinks. That she helped Connor. She drove Connor all the way to fucking Chino to save Evan’s useless life because Connor was shaking too badly to drive himself. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, he… 

Connor confronted Mark. Mark could have  _ killed  _ him. 

He nearly killed Evan. 

_ But you went down without a fight, _ the voice in his head reminds him. _ You didn’t even try to fight back. You baited him into hitting you, into hurting you.  _

He thought it was the only option he had. 

At the time, it was his only option. 

And now?

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know if…

He doesn’t know if anything’s changed. They’ll still take him away from Heidi. Away from Connor.

What if he never sees Connor again?

What if child services come in and take him away tomorrow, take him to another hospital or stop letting him have visitors or…

Nothing’s set in stone, he tries to remind himself. 

He doesn’t know for sure that they’ll take him away from Heidi. It just…

Well. 

What was the point of saving him, of giving him fucking brain surgery and spending all this money and effort to keep him alive if he’s just going to get put back into the system? 

He doesn’t think he’s strong enough to survive being put back into the foster system. 

He’d just…

He’d end up back in Chino, or somewhere like it. Probably. In a group home where no one’s really paying attention. At a school where no one cares. He’d get used to it, sure, but he’d be fucking miserable. He’d be alone. He’d…

Go walk off a bridge, probably. Walk into traffic. Jump into a swimming pool and let himself sink to the bottom. 

It would be easy. 

It would be so fucking easy. 

He needs to…

He needs to stop thinking about that. 

Stop letting his mind go there, it’s not fucking helpful. 

Sabrina and Alana both hug him before they go. He’s not sure what possesses him, but as Sabrina’s pulling away, he grabs her arm and tugs it weakly. 

Sabrina looks at him quizzically. “Everything okay?”

“Zoe,” he says quietly. “Can you tell her that if she… wanted to visit again, that would be okay?”

Sabrina’s eyes go wide. “Yeah?”

Evan nods. Regrets it immediately. 

Sabrina smiles. “Okay,” she says gently. “I’ll let her know, okay?” 

“Okay,” Evan says. He can feel that he’s starting to fade. “Just… before Connor goes home,” he manages to add. “We should… we should talk.”

He doesn’t hear Sabrina’s response before he falls back asleep. 

Zoe shows up the next day with a container full of food for Heidi and without Sabrina. She seems nervous and on edge and like she’s desperately trying to just demand Evan explain why he asked her to visit. 

Evan doesn’t know, really. Not really. 

He just…

He thinks he’ll get an honest answer about how Connor’s really doing from her. 

One that’s not sanitized by an adult who’s trying to keep him safe or a friend who doesn’t want to hurt him. 

“Hey,” she says, sitting on Heidi’s chair. Heidi’s popped out to give them some space, which Evan appreciates. “How are you feeling today?”

“Tired,” he admits. “But… better? Maybe? I did some more physical therapy and I can, like, g-get out of bed now, which is b-better.” 

Zoe nods. Smiles a little. “That is better, yeah.” Her smile fades a little. Shifts into something a little more determined. “I think Connor’s doing a bit better, too.”

Evan feels his heart start to beat a little faster. “You’ve seen him?” 

It’s a stupid question. Zoe’s his sister, of course she’s seen him. 

“Yeah,” Zoe says with a nod. “He’s… I think he’s really trying.”

“How is he?” Evan asks immediately. 

“Bored,” Zoe replies with a quiet laugh. “He said it’s pretty boring.”

Evan laughs a little. It sends pain shooting through him. He winces. “There’s a lot of waiting around here as well,” he says after a moment. “B-but mostly I just… sleep.” He looks at Zoe. “H-how is he r-really? I want… the truth.” 

Something flashes across Zoe’s face, like she’s suddenly understanding something. “He’s so fucking worried about you. He’s… he blames himself for what happened, which is bullshit because it’s no one’s fault but your asshole dad’s-”

“That’s not true,” Evan interrupts. “It’s m-mine for going in the first place.”

“Why  _ did  _ you go?” Zoe asks, her face young and pale. “Why did you go to your dad when you knew that he’d hurt you?”

Evan swallows hard. “It was stupid. I was… I was st-stupid. I wanted to protect Connor.”

“From what?” Zoe asks, sounding confused or frustrated or pissed off or… all of the above. 

Evan closes his eyes. “From me,” he says, his voice quiet. “I… I knocked Brian out, I… I h-hurt him and I d-d-didn’t…” He takes in a shaky breath. “I’ve b-been fighting my whole l-life,” he admits. “And-and usually I don’t win, usually I’m the one who… who k-keeps fighting until I can’t anymore, or until someone breaks it up. I’ve given pl-plenty of black eyes and fat lips and I g-give as good as I get, sure, but I’d never…” He opens his eyes again. Wills himself to be brave. Looks at her. “I’d never  _ hurt  _ anybody like that before. Never. And Connor… he’s been hurt so many times in so many ways, and after we…” 

He feels his cheeks go pink. He’s not about to fucking say it in front of Connor’s sister, fucking hell. He looks at Zoe, who just raises her eyebrows and nods a bit, like she wants him to continue.

“I just l-looked at him and-and realized that I… I’d touched him with the same h-hands that I used to r-really hurt someone,” Evan tries to explain. “And I kn-knew that he… he is so stubborn and he’d stick by me while my wh-whole life burned down b-because I’m stupid and violent and impulsive and everyone around me g-gets hurt because I am… a fucking disaster. I d-didn’t know how else to k-keep him safe.”

Zoe’s eyes fill with tears. “That is the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”

Evan looks at her. “I did s-say I w-was stupid.” He doesn’t know why he says what he says next, but he does it anyway. “You and y-your mom both think I’m retarded, so.”

Zoe flinches visibly. Her lip trembles. Tears fall. “I didn’t mean it,” she says tearfully. “I don’t even remember saying it-”

“You did,” Evan says bluntly. “D-doesn’t matter anyway, I… kind of proved I’m a fucking idiot anyway.”

Zoe wipes her face aggressively with the back of her hand. Takes in a deep breath. “Connor loves you so fucking much,” she says fiercely. “So don’t go fucking bailing on him, okay? You can’t just… protecting him by getting yourself killed is bullshit, don’t you even fucking think about doing anything that stupid again.”

“I just want him safe,” Evan tries to explain. “That’s all I want.”

“Keep yourself safe,” Zoe snaps. “He’s, like, stupidly in love with you, he… if anything happened to you, he’d be a wreck, he…” She looks at Evan, eyes full of tears. “You were way too busted up to notice, but he was a fucking mess when we found you. Just… a total mess. And when we got you to the hospital, he was like… a zombie. We were waiting and it was like he totally disconnected from reality, he totally lost his mind and if you… if you hadn’t made it, then he’d probably be, like, in a fucking straitjacket. Like, proper fucking crazy. So don’t… don’t do anything that fucking stupid again, okay? He  _ needs  _ you.”

_ I need him, too, _ he wants to say. 

_ I can’t even begin to explain how much I need him.  _

_ But I still might lose him. They might take me away.  _

He can’t talk about that. Can’t mention it. 

Fuck. He shouldn’t be that important to Connor. He shouldn’t. What’s going to happen to Connor if Evan gets taken away from Heidi? Will he hurt him all over again?

Evan hates the idea of Connor being hurt because of him. 

He hates it. 

He hates it so much. 

He hates Zoe, a little bit, for having the pills in her room. 

“You s-said you’re done,” he ventures. “With… the drugs. D-do you mean it?”

Zoe looks a little stung. “Of course.”

Evan doesn’t let up. “B-because when he goes home, he-”

“I threw all of it out,” Zoe tells him, her voice hard. “Flushed everything he didn’t take. And I…” Her face goes pale all of a sudden. Deathly pale, like someone just drained all the color out in seconds. “I won’t be getting anything off Jared again. I was stupid to buy from him in the first place, after…”

She trails off. 

Evan looks at her. 

There’s this horrible, uneasy feeling in his stomach. 

“After what?” he asks carefully. 

Zoe looks miserable. “I meant what I said about being sorry about what I did on our date,” she says, something careful in her tone. “It must have… I know how much it sucks when someone pushes past your boundaries the way… the way I did. With you. That wasn’t… it wasn’t okay.”

Evan feels cold. Kind of numb. 

His brain takes a moment, but it pieces it together. 

“Jared forced you. He… he did something to you.”

Zoe tenses. “It’s not like…” She bites her lip. “I was stupid, I was the one who, like, suggested we hook up or whatever, but he… he didn’t stop when I asked him to.”

Evan feels his hands curl into fists. “I’m going to kill him.”

Zoe’s eyes widen in alarm. “Not from here you’re not,” she says. “Jesus Christ, you and Connor are as bad as each other.”

“You told Connor?” Evan asks, feeling this weird rush of relief. “You… that’s…”

Zoe swallows. “He’s my brother,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “I know I’ve, like, been the worst sibling in the world recently, but-”

“It’s good that you told him,” Evan interrupts. “He really loves you? He’s b-been so worried about you, he…” He blinks a few times, feeling like he’s going to cry. “It’s good that you told him. Th-that you trusted him.” He looks at her for a long moment. “Thank you f-for tr-trusting me. I don’t…” He feels his eyes sting. “I h-hate that you h-had to go through that.”

“I did it to you,” Zoe mumbles. 

Evan shakes his head, even though he knows it’s going to hurt him. “N-no,” he assures her. “It w-wasn’t great, but it wasn’t… it’s not the same. Okay? It’s n-not the same.”

Zoe doesn’t look convinced. Wipes her face aggressively. Looks at Evan for a long moment. This deep, searching look that makes him feel a little uncomfortable. 

“It’s, like, super selfish of me to ask,” she says, something guarded in her tone, “but I’m gonna. Did you… did you ever actually like me?”

Evan feels a little bit like he’s been slapped. 

It takes him a moment to figure out how to respond.

“I did,” he says quietly. “I liked you a lot.”

“I liked you too,” Zoe says, equally quietly. “But… it’s not the same way I feel about Sabrina. And obviously you didn’t feel the same way about me that you feel about Connor.” 

“I don’t,” Evan says immediately. Frowns a little, because he feels like he was possibly a little too blunt about that. Looks at her apologetically. “I, uh…”

“It’s okay,” Zoe says, her cheeks pink. “I mean, like…” She clears her throat. “Sabrina totally ate me out right before our date, so.” Evan stares at her. Her face goes even redder. “I kept telling myself it didn’t count! I was… kind of an asshole. To both of you.”

“A little,” Evan says. “That’s kind of… yeah.”

Zoe clears her throat again. “Was it…” She pauses. Starts again. “Did you, like, agree to go out with me because you thought it would be easier? Because you were… trying  _ not  _ to like Connor or something?”

“It took me a while to figure out how I felt about Connor,” Evan admits. He frowns. Tries to explain. “So… when I first met you, I’m not gonna lie, I thought you were… so pretty. And you were n-nice to me and you were a girl and you were… I had a crush on you, like, straight away, and I thought you were so beautiful but also kind of terrifying?” He looks at her. Laughs a little. “Which ob-obviously you knew, come on.” 

Zoe’s cheeks turn pink. “I mean, yeah,” she admits. “I liked that you were terrified, a little. It was cute.”

Evan feels his own cheeks turning pink. “It wasn’t like that with Connor.”

Zoe tilts her head. “What was it like?”

Evan smiles. He can’t help but smile. “I met him the first day I got to Newport,” he says, feeling a little warm at the memory. “At the end of our driveways, in the middle of the night. I went out for a cigarette and I was totally overwhelmed and everything was completely cr-crazy, and then I met Connor and it was like… something inside me went kind of calm?” He looks at Zoe, who’s got this small smile on her face. “Like, I kn-know this is going to sound stupid, but it’s like a part of me… knew him already. L-like there was something inside me going ‘oh hey, there you are’ and I j-just felt… safe. Like everything was going to be okay.”

Zoe’s eyes are wide but she’s nodding. “That’s how I feel about Sabrina,” she confesses. “How I’ve always felt about her.” She smiles. “Sounds like you’re in love with my brother.”

Evan feels something inside him tense. “I don’t kn-know about love,” he says quietly. “I d-don’t know if I…” He sighs. “I j-just d-don’t know an-anything about love.”

Zoe looks like she’s going to protest, but doesn’t. Instead, she frowns a little.

“So I don’t… I don’t know if I’m gay? I’m not… I’m not confused about how I feel about Sabrina, that’s not confusing at all, but… I don’t feel gay. I don’t know. Does that make sense?”

“It makes total sense,” Evan says immediately. Something inside him is untwisting a little at her words. “I feel that, like, completely.” He frowns. “Alana talked about sexuality as being a spectrum. So… maybe it’s like that. Like… it’s about the person.” He remembers that night with the bonfire and Heidi being super embarrassing and smoking weed with Evan’s friends. “That’s what Heidi said David thought? That it wasn’t about gender, it was about the person.”

Zoe’s eyes go huge. “I’m sorry, what?”

Evan has this sudden realization that he’s said the wrong thing. “Uh…”

“Back up,” Zoe says, sounding genuinely interested. “Uncle David wasn’t straight?”

The cat’s out of the bag, Evan figures. “He had a boyfriend in college named Steve.”

“How do you know this?”

“Heidi got baked with Connor and Sabrina and Alana at the b-beach house and told us,” Evan explains. “It was a really weird night.”

Zoe looks like she’s having a hard time wrapping her head around this. “Does my mom know? Or my dad? Oh my god, that’s… oh my god.”

“I don’t think your mom knows,” Evan says with a shrug. “I f-feel like… she might be less of a bitch if she knew?” He shrugs again. Realizes he shouldn’t be shrugging because it hurts. “Or more. I don’t know.”

“Me either,” Zoe says, still sounding completely shocked by this. “Oh my god.” She blinks a few times. “Dude. Pretty sure Connor knew he was gay before Uncle David died. He could have fucking said something.”

“How d-do you even start that conversation?” 

Zoe looks thoughtful. Laughs a little. “So when I was a kid,” she says with this small smile, “I wrote songs about everything? It was super embarrassing. And Uncle David could play a little guitar, so now I’m just… picturing him, like, serenading Connor at thirteen with a power ballad called “I Like Dudes and I Think You Do, Too”.”

“Oh my god,” Evan says, laughing properly now, which is a bad idea because everything fucking hurts. Zoe looks super fucking guilty but he tries to smile at her. “That’s amazing, y-you should totally write that song.”

“I haven’t written a song in so long,” Zoe says, a little wistfully.

“Maybe you should,” Evan suggests. 

Zoe looks thoughtful. “Yeah. Maybe I should.”

* * *

Connor is released from the psych ward a week after he checks in. The doctors all agree that he’s not a danger to himself anymore. His physical health is still not like  _ awesome.  _ He’s supposed to see an individual therapist and attend the eating disorder group once a week for the foreseeable future. 

They also suggested Connor take at least another week off of school for Connor to adjust back to being home. He’s grateful for that. He is not ready for school. 

The best part of being let out of the psych ward is that he’s allowed to go and visit Evan. His dad says he can go as soon as he’s all checked out. 

They moved Evan out of the ICU. 

His dad and Granny say he seems good. They’ve stopped by. Brought Heidi food. Granny’s been cooking up a storm apparently. 

Even made kosher stuff for Heidi. 

Granny Murphy is good. 

His dad and Zoe come to pick him up. 

Laura cries when Connor’s getting ready to go. She sits on his bed and tells him she’s going home on Wednesday. They exchange phone numbers and she makes him swear four times that he’ll text her. 

Connor’s not totally sure how he feels about being friendly with a cheerleader at Pacific but he like. Doesn’t have a lot of friends so. He figures it’s probably best if he doesn’t blow her off. 

Zoe hugs Connor when he sees her. She’s smiling a little. 

It’s weird. Her smiling at him. 

But he’ll take it. 

His dad hugs Connor so tight and so hard he lifts him up off his feet a little. 

“We’re so glad you’re coming home,” his dad says. 

Connor’s kind of glad too. He really doesn’t want to be here in the hospital anymore. 

He wears his psych wristband out of the ward. Weirdly he worries he’ll feel naked without it. 

His dad gives him back his studded belt and normal shoes with laces when they get to the elevator and Connor grins. He parks himself in a chair and puts his shoes on. Pulls on the belt gratefully. 

His pants are still too big. 

His doctors think an achievable goal for the next month or so would be to try and see if he can make them fit properly again. They’re recommending as many carbs as he can get his hands on. 

They suggest that he can’t just live on blueberries and almonds. Connor thinks that’s dumb but whatever. He’ll try to throw other stuff in there. 

Belt and shoes on, Connor and his dad and Zo all ride down the elevator to the fifth floor, where Evan has been moved. Connor’s a little bit sad. He was sort of hoping to say hey to Adam the nurse. 

But it’s good that Evan’s been moved. 

It’s really good. 

His dad warns him that Evan is awake a lot of the time, but he gets headaches a lot so they keep the lights low. Try not to be too loud. 

Connor nods. Tries to commit that to memory. Be quiet. No bright lights. 

He tugs awkwardly at his shirt. Looks at Zoe. “Do I look totally batshit?” He asks. 

She grins. “Nah, just all emo.”

He’ll take it. 

“He’s excited to see you,” she says. “You could show up in a banana hammock and he wouldn’t care.”

“You’ve seen him?” Connor’s surprised by that. 

“Yeah, dipshit. We  _ were  _ friends before you stole him.” She laughs and Connor knows she’s joking. 

Connor rolls his eyes. 

He’s nervous. He’s really fucking nervous. It’s only been a week but he and Evan haven’t gone that long without seeing each other since they, like, met. 

It feels weird. Being nervous to see him. 

Connor bites the inside of his cheek as Zoe leads him down the hall. He nervously tucks his hair behind his ear. Decides that’ll look stupid. 

Decides he’s being dumb and puts his hair back behind his ear. 

He’s so fucking nervous. 

They stop at a reception desk. Connor has to sign in as a visitor. Get a name tag. He sticks it to his chest and takes a deep breath. 

It’s just Evan. He needs to stop being a pussy. 

He can do this. 

He can do this. He swears. 

He can do this. 

Connor follows Zoe and his dad down the hall, his duffel bag bouncing awkwardly against his hip. 

Evan’s not in his bed. He’s standing up. He’s in pajamas. Like. Normal pajamas not a hospital gown. 

He can  _ stand.  _ There’s a lady in scrubs standing beside him, nodding. “Good. You’re doing great.”

Evan smiles at Connor brightly when he steps into the room. It makes his eyes crinkle. “Hi,” he says. 

“Hi,” Connor says brightly. 

Evan looks over at the lady and she offers her arm. Evan takes a couple of staggering steps toward Connor. He seems a bit unsteady but still. He’s up. He’s walking. 

He’s smiling. 

The bruises on his face have gone way down. He doesn’t have a fuckton of bandages around his head anymore. He’s dragging an IV stand behind him but Evan’s standing and walking and he’s  _ alive  _ and he’s  _ so fucking beautiful.  _

“Well are you going t-to h-hug me or what?” Evan says with a small smile. 

Connor jolts forward. Drops his duffel bag to the ground gently. Steps up to Evan. He very gingerly wraps his arms around Evan. Evan lets go of the nurse or whoever was helping him walk and sort of leans against Connor. 

“Hi,” Connor whispers. 

“Hi,” Evan says back. 

“I fucking  _ missed  _ you,” he says softly. 

“M-me too,” Evan says. He’s holding onto Connor tightly. He can feel that his arms and legs are shaking. 

The nurse or whoever seems to notice too. She says, her voice low, “Maybe that’s enough for right now.”

Evan lets go a moment later. Lets this lady walk him back to bed and help him swing his feet back up onto it. He winces a couple of times. She asks questions about his pain and he says he’s okay. “Just kinda sore.”

She pats him on the hand gently, tells him she’ll see him tomorrow. Evan grins awkwardly at Connor. “M-my physical therapist,” he says. 

“Cool,” Connor says. 

His dad and Zoe both grab seats in the corner of the room. 

Connor looks around awkwardly. He’s not sure where he’s supposed to sit. 

Evan frowns a little at him. “Come here?”

Connor doesn’t understand. Evan pats the hospital bed beside him. Connor glances at his dad and Zoe and then he sits. Evan leans forward. Connor doesn’t understand what’s happening. 

But then Evan kisses him. 

Nothing big or gross. Just a light little peck. 

In front of his dad and Zoe. 

Oh. Okay. Apparently they’re doing that in front of people. 

He guessed maybe Evan would prefer that they… didn’t. 

Connor feels his cheeks heat up. He smiles at Evan. “How’ve you been?” He asks. His voice comes out a bit strangled. 

“I’m okay,” Evan says. “You?”

Connor shrugs. “Alright, I guess.” He looks around. “Where’s Heidi?”

“Oh damn, I missed it!” She says with a frown, walking back into Evan’s room at that precise moment. “Hey Connor,” she says and he gets up to hug her. “I was hoping I’d be back when you got here. Phone call.”

“Social worker,” Evan explains. 

“You look good,” Heidi tells Connor. 

He thinks she’s full of shit but whatever. 

When she lets him go, Connor sits beside Evan again. Evan immediately takes his hand. 

His hands are warm. 

Connor feels something inside him unravel. 

Evan looks so much better. 

Maybe he’ll be okay. 

Maybe he’ll actually be okay. 

“So…” Connor says a bit awkwardly. “What have you been up to?” He asks Evan. He doesn’t know what to say but he knows he can’t just sit there staring at Evan like an idiot forever. 

Though that doesn’t sound all that bad really. 

“Oh. Y-you know. Ballet m-m-mostly. Some tap too. Since I’m already an-an a-a-accomplished ballroom dancer.”

Connor laughs at him. He loves him so fucking much he can’t even find the words. 

“He dances one waltz without breaking your toes and now he thinks he’s ready for  _ Dancing with the Stars, _ ” Zoe jokes. She’s kind of smiling. 

Evan is too. 

Apparently the two of them are okay again. That’s… okay, Connor didn’t really expect that but he supposes it’s okay. After all, Evan’s holding  _ Connor’s  _ hand. Not Zoe’s. 

Because he wants Connor. He kissed Connor. In front of people. 

They pass the time with some idle conversation. Connor mentions awkwardly befriending a cheerleader in the psych ward. Evan laughs a little and then flinches a bit. 

“Sorry,” he says awkwardly. “I get uh. H-headaches?”

Connor nods. Resolves to never make Evan laugh again. 

Realizes that’s stupid because he loves Evan’s laugh. Maybe just a few weeks. 

Larry and Heidi and Zoe all start talking about… something. Connor’s not listening. He’s just looking at Evan. He’s so fucking beautiful and even with his face still marred with yellowing bruises he’s perfect because he’s alive. 

“I really fucking missed you,” Connor whispers. 

“Me too,” Evan says. He squeezes Connor’s fingers. “Like. It sucked. When you left.”

“I’m sorry,” Connor says. Tries to explain. “I just. I knew I… I fucked myself up too much to pretend I was like. Okay? You know?”

Evan nods a little. Flinches again. “I know. I’m glad you’re… here now though.”

“I’ll come back,” Connor says. “I’ll come back so much you’ll be like, ‘ _ shit has he always been this clingy?’  _ And I’ll be like-”

“Yes,” Evan says. “I-I-I… I’m clingy too.”

Connor smiles at him. So hard that he thinks he might have pulled a muscle in the back of his head. He doesn’t care. 

Maybe they’ll be okay. 

Both of them. 

When it’s time to leave, Heidi and his dad and Zoe make a big huge show of giving them a little privacy. Evan kisses him again, properly this time. It’s soft and warm and absolutely perfect. Connor kisses him on the cheek before he goes. 

“I love you.”

Evan blinks at him. Looks unsure. “...Thank you?”

Connor feels his face heat up. “Well. Okay. I’ll come back tomorrow?”

“Okay. S-see you tomorrow.”

* * *

Evan’s social worker stops by every couple of days to check in on how Evan’s doing and talk to his doctors. She never stays long. She’s polite and respectful and doesn’t seem like a total bitch, but Evan kind of hates her anyway. 

Because he still doesn't know if he’s going to be able to stay with Heidi. 

They still haven’t made a decision. 

The waiting is kind of killing him. The stronger and healthier he gets, the more anxious he feels because he can’t help but think that time is running out. 

He’s recovering, sure, but he’s not going to get to stay. 

So what’s the point? What’s the point of any of it?

He’s still sleeping a lot. Gets headaches nearly constantly. They keep the lights dim and the curtains closed and it helps, but at the same time, he just feels… 

He doesn’t know how he feels. 

Like nothing’s ever going to be okay again. 

Like maybe they shouldn’t have bothered with hours and hours of brain surgery. 

Not that he’s allowed to say that. Not that he can ever say that to Heidi or Connor, to Sabrina or Alana or Zoe, or even Connor’s dad. 

He’s going to lose them all. He’s sure of it. 

He shouldn’t have gotten attached. It was stupid of him. 

He shouldn’t have…

He doesn’t know what he could have done differently. He thought he’d covered his tracks, thought that they’d believe he’d gone to Idaho. 

Maybe if he’d spent less time at his mom’s grave, he’d…

Fuck. That’s so fucked up. 

He shouldn’t be thinking this. He shouldn’t be sitting here trying to figure out how he could have been better at trying to die, that’s…

That’s not good. It’s not a good thing, he needs to…

He doesn’t know what to do. What to say. 

Should he talk to someone? Should he, like, talk to a doctor? 

Does it even matter? 

None of it is going to matter if they take him away from Heidi. It’s not like he’ll be able to afford therapy or whatever if he’s back in foster care. It’s bad enough that he’s older, no one’s going to want a sixteen-year-old. 

A seventeen-year-old. 

Fuck. He must have turned seventeen. It was a few days before his birthday when he…

He’s got to be seventeen. That’s so weird. 

Evan’s dozing a bit and Heidi’s on a phone call outside when Connor shows up. He looks tired, like he hasn’t been sleeping well. He smiles when he sees Evan. 

Evan tries to smile back. He doesn’t think it reaches his eyes. 

It must not, because Connor’s smile drops immediately. “What’s wrong?” 

Evan shakes his head. Regrets it. Winces. “Well, I’m in the hospital.”

Connor doesn’t let up. “Well yeah, but… what’s going on?”

Evan shrugs. It hurts. 

Lets out a sigh. 

“My social worker visited,” he says quietly. “Sh-she doesn’t have any update yet. But I… well it’s pr-pretty fucking clear I blew it, so. I’m just… waiting, I guess.”

Connor looks uneasy. “For what?”

Evan looks at the ceiling. “For them to take me away from Heidi. They’ll probably put me in a group home somewhere. Not around here, obviously. Newport Beach is way too fancy to have a fucking group home. It’ll probably be back in Chino. Or somewhere like that. I don’t know.” 

Connor’s quiet for a moment. “They won’t do that.”

“You don’t know that.”

“We won’t let them-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Evan interrupts tiredly. “We can fight all we want but… they’re going to do whatever the fuck they want to do. You can’t… you can’t change what’s going to happen. None of us can, it’s just…” He blinks a few times. Doesn’t look at Connor. “Whatever happens, happens. I just hate waiting.”

Evan hears Connor sniff. Feels him reach for his hand and squeeze it tightly. 

“If you get sent to a group home,” Connor says fiercely, “that doesn’t mean I’m done. Okay? It doesn’t mean I’m going anywhere, I’ll still… I’ll make it work, okay? I’ll visit all the time, I don’t care how far away you end up, how long it takes, I won’t… I won’t leave you, okay? I won’t leave you alone.”

Evan shakes his head. Winces. Sighs. 

His head hurts. 

It really fucking hurts. 

It’s taking everything he has not to cry. Or start screaming. He doesn’t know. 

He has no idea what’s going on with him right now, he’s just…

He doesn’t have the energy to do anything. 

To say anything. 

To change anything. 

“I appreciate that,” he says quietly to Connor. “You… you’re the most important person to me, you know that? And I… I’m really glad I got to know you. I’m really, really glad you’re in my life.” He looks at Connor. Squeezes his hand. “Whatever happens, remember that, okay?” 

Connor’s face goes deathly pale. “No,” he says bluntly. “No, you don’t get to say shit like that.”

“Shit like what?”

“Goodbye shit.” 

Evan closes his eyes. Feels himself start to cry. 

Fuck, this is embarrassing. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

“You’re not going anywhere,” Connor says fiercely. “Okay? We’re not… you’re not going anywhere, and even if you do,  _ I’m  _ not going anywhere. You… don’t bail on me, okay? Don’t you dare fucking bail on me.” 

Evan wipes his face with his free hand. Doesn’t look at Connor. 

He can’t. 

He just… can’t. 

* * *

Connor won’t hear this. He won’t. “You  _ can’t  _ bail on me okay? We will. We’ll figure this out.”

Evan sniffs. 

“Evan. Come on. You can’t just… you can’t just give up.” Connor’s begging. He doesn’t know what he’s saying. He feels like his heart is being ripped out of his chest. They can’t take Evan away from Heidi. They just… can’t. Connor wouldn’t be able to take it. 

“I j-just don’t see a point.”

“No,” Connor says stubbornly. He’s crying and he doesn’t even, like, think to be embarrassed by it because this is not the time to be worried about how he feels. “No. You can’t just give up. I won’t let you I…”

“God, just, stop,” Evan says hopelessly. “It’s… Whatever is going t-to happen, it’s not gonna be me or y-you and… You s-say you’ll stick around but…”

“I will.”

“You  _ shouldn’t _ ,” Evan says. He won’t look at Connor. He stares off across the room, toward the window with the shades drawn and Connor hates this he hates this. 

He wipes his eyes. “Fine. What’s the plan then?”

Evan doesn’t respond. 

“You gonna walk into traffic? Throw yourself off a bridge? Because I’ve got bad news for you, you need to be able to walk for both of those and you can’t exactly get far right now.”

“Please don’t.”

“Come on, you can tell me. I’ve got experience, I can help you out.” 

“Connor.”

“Bet they’ll load you up with a fuckton of drugs when you get out of the hospital,” Connor says, angrier still. “Overdosing’s not so bad, really, you just gotta make sure you’re on your back -”

“ _ -Stop _ .”

“-So you can properly choke to death on your own vomit,” Connor finishes viciously. 

Evan’s crying. He looks at Connor miserably. “I never  _ said _ -”

“You don’t have to,” Connor says. He’s still crying. “I know, okay? I fucking… I know. And I’m not stupid, I-I… I know that’s what you’re saying. I know that’s what you mean.” 

Evan looks away again. Swallows. Closes his eyes, but more tears still escape. “I can’t do it again. I c-c-can’t.” 

Connor wants to scream that he has to. He wants to shake Evan and tell him he needs to tell someone this. He wants to unplug Evan’s fucking morphine drip and stick it in his own arm because this is too damn painful for him to deal with. 

He doesn’t know what to do. 

He just looks at Evan. “Please don’t,” Connor says. Begs. Whatever. “Please don’t give up. I… I need you not to give up because I… I love you and I… I’m not sure I would make it if you didn’t, I don’t think I can.”

“Yes you can,” Evan says. 

“Well maybe I don’t want to,” Connor says. 

“Fuck you,” Evan says. “Y-you don’t get to… You c-c-can’t just s-say that. You don’t even -”

“Have real problems?” Connor spits back. 

Evan looks at him then. He looks hurt. Pissed. “No. That’s not what I…”

“Because you know what? I think the fact that my best friend wants to die is a pretty fucking big problem,” Connor says. He’s so livid and scared and he doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know what to do. “I think the fact that you’re just sitting here, giving up before anything’s even been decided is a big fucking problem.”

“I don’t know what else to do,” Evan says softly. “I’m… I’m  _ scared. _ I d-d-d-don’t w-w-w-want to go, I d-don’t want to l-leave H-Heidi I j-just don’t know what else to do.” 

Connor loses steam then. He sniffs. “I know. I know okay? I’m… I’m scared too. I don’t want you to go. I don’t want Heidi to lose you. She loves you _. I _ love you and I don’t know what to do.”

Evan nods. Wipes his eyes. 

“C-Can you just… Can you just come here?” Evan whispers. “Just…”

Connor doesn’t need him to finish. He crawls into the bed beside Evan and wraps his arms around him gently. Lets Evan rest against his chest. Strokes his hair and lets him cry. Just… sits there and is miserable with him. He can’t come up with anything better to even do. It’s all he’s got. 

It’s the only thing he’s got. 

* * *

Connor comes home from visiting Evan with red eyes and the saddest expression on his face. Larry immediately pulls him into a tight hug and Connor’s shoulders shake and he’s so damn thin Larry hates it he hates it so much. 

He escorts Connor to the couch and hands him a few Kleenex. Connor wipes his eyes, his nose and looks at Larry with a miserable expression. “Are they going to take Evan away from Heidi?” He asks. 

Larry frowns. “I… I don’t know. I hope not. And if they try, I will help Heidi fight it. She loves him so much and he doesn’t deserve to be lost in the system again because of what his dad did to him.”

Connor nods. Swallows hard. “I’m sc-scared he’ll kill himself if he goes back into foster care,” he whispers. 

Larry hates that. He hates that so much. No kids should feel like they have no other option. 

His kid has felt like he had no other options. 

Larry hugs Connor again, tightly, trying to press as much love and compassion into it as he can. “You can always talk to me, okay? I need you to know that you can always talk to me about this kind of thing. I won’t get mad. I just want to help.” 

He rubs his hand over Connor’s hair, cradling the back of his head like he did when Connor was a baby. It doesn’t matter that he’s bigger now. He’s Larry’s boy. He’s not going to let something stupid like his pride get in the way of giving him the help he needs. 

Connor sniffles again. Rests his head on Larry’s shoulder and exhales shakily. “You r-really mean that?”

“Of course, kid. I love you. Nothing else matters but you being okay.”

Connor sighs. “I fucked up.”

Larry waits to hear more, his heart pounding in his chest too hard. 

“I knew mom was drinking again,” he says. “I caught her, like, the night she got home.” Connor swallows audibly. “And sh-she said she never even wanted kids and… and that if I told you, she’d throw me out again.”

Larry feels that like a knife to the heart. He knew that Cynthia had made that threat; he didn’t know that she told Connor she didn’t want children. 

He doesn’t even think that’s true. They always talked about having a family. Larry wanted tons of kids; he was an only child. Cynthia drew the line after she got pregnant with Zoe immediately after having Connor. 

It’s cruel. The things she said to him. Cruel. 

“Connor I am so sorry,” Larry tells his son. “I need you to know that I took what you said about going away to Hanover seriously. I will never send you away like that again, okay? If you want to go somewhere, that’s a different conversation. But I will never, ever do that to you again.”

Connor nods. Wipes his face again. “There’s… there’s more.”

Larry feels his heart drop. 

“I uh.” He clears his throat. “Not like… a ton? But I. Sometimes I still smoke weed.”

Larry frowns. 

That seems… dangerous, considering Connor’s history with other drugs. 

“Not like… not like a  _ ton _ . Just every once in a while, if stuff is… like really bad?” he says. Sighs. “Like after… when my note went on the school website?”

Oh fuck. 

“Blanca… found my weed stash. And-and she found Zoe’s pills in her bedroom,” Connor says desperately. “I swear. Those weren’t mine. But… After the whole shitshow at the school board meeting, I… I told mom I was going to tell you she was drinking.” 

Larry feels this rock forming in his stomach. 

“And she said… you wouldn’t believe me. Because of… because of the drugs. And she th-thought Zoe’s stash was m-mine and…” He shakes his head. Starts crying harder. Larry pulls Connor to him gently, lets him just… get this out. However he needs to. “I sh-should have just told you. I should have told you and… been smarter but. But she… she s-said. She said she would. She would get Evan in trouble. Say he was smoking pot because I was… s-say I got the pills from him. C-call his probation officer.” 

Fucking hell, Larry thinks. 

How did he not see that there was essentially an entire blackmail plot happening right under his nose?

“I c-couldn’t risk it,” Connor says. “Her getting him in trouble. And-and I knew if I tried to swear to you that he never, that Evan’s  _ never even _ smoked with me, that you… you wouldn’t believe me since I’d been lying and… I was such a fucking coward and I’m… I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Larry says. 

“I’m scared mom told Child Services,” Connor admits. “I’m so scared that… that they’ll use it against Heidi. That they’ll take him away and-and it’ll be my fault.”

“No. Buddy, no, listen to me. None of this is on you.” 

“But I… I’m the r-reason he ran away. I was l-lying and covering for mom… It’s my fault. And I’m so scared if he can’t stay with Heidi that he’ll die and that’ll be my fault too.”

“No,” Larry says firmly. “That will not happen. You hear me? I won’t let it happen.” Larry sets his jaw determinedly. “I will do everything in my power to make sure it doesn’t, Connor. I promise you that. Every string I can pull, every friend I’ve ever made in social services… I’m not letting this kid die because the state is trying to cover their own asses, alright? I swear. I promise.”

Connor nods sadly. Wipes his eyes again. 

Larry just hugs him for a long, long time. Then he sends Connor up to bed when he seems like he might be on the brink of passing out right there on the sofa. 

He doesn’t know what to do about Cynthia. 

Her cruelty to their children. 

Larry thinks perhaps he should really be thinking about divorce as an option. It’s only sensible. She’s hurting their kids; Larry doesn’t want her around them right now. It’s only practical. When marriages end, they end in divorce. 

But… 

He still loves her fiercely. Because underneath all of the social hierarchy bullshit and the drinking and the pain she’s inflicted, she’s the girl he met and married in his twenties. She’s someone who cares about people so deeply it shakes her to her core. She commits to everything so wholeheartedly. She’s protective of their children, even if lately it has been showing up in self-destructive and self-obsessed ways. 

And he loves her. 

Larry can’t overlook how much he loves her. 

Always has loved her. 

Even though Larry always knew, somewhere, that he wasn’t quite ever going to measure up to David. Even though, in the middle of the night sometimes he would wake up to find Cynthia curled up in a ball in the bathroom crying about how her life had turned out wrong. 

She lost her parents young. She’s an only child too. Larry actually liked that she and David had each other. They were family. They deserved to be each other’s family. 

Larry loves his wife. He loves her deeply, fiercely, intensely…

But he loves his children more. And if asked to choose between his marriage and the wellbeing of Connor and Zoe?

Larry would pick the kids. Every time. He doesn't even need to think about it. 

Once he’s sure Connor is asleep, Larry grabs his phone. He goes to the spare room where he’s been sleeping and finds his old Rolodex. He looks through it and pulls out a name. A judge who has taken on quite a few family court cases over the years. 

“Gertrude, hi, Larry Murphy. I was wondering if I could get your advice on something, for a friend of mine…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic and chapter title from "Camisado" by Panic! at the Disco


	55. I'm Not Okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor makes a bold move to protect Zoe, with a little help from an unexpected source.

Heidi’s more than a little shocked when an hour after she arrives at the hospital the next morning, Laurel arrives with a small suitcase. She looks exhausted but she pulls Heidi into a tight hug immediately. 

“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” Heidi says tearfully. 

“I’ve only got a few days,” Laurel says apologetically. “But they gave me some time off unexpectedly so I just got on the first plane to LA I could find.” She looks at the hospital bed where Evan’s asleep, looking genuinely shocked at the still-visible damage. “How is he?”

“A lot better,” Heidi tells her. “I know it looks bad now but this is… so much better, trust me.” She hugs Laurel again. “It’s so good to see you, you have no idea.”

Laurel holds onto her tight, then looks at Evan. “Let’s get some coffee,” Laurel says. “While he’s asleep. You can catch me up on what’s been going on.”

Heidi nods. Goes to kiss Evan on the cheek. He stirs. 

“Mom?”

Her heart breaks a little. “Hey sweetheart,” she says. “It’s Heidi. I’m just going to get a cup of coffee, okay? I’ll be back soon.”

Evan blinks. He looks like he’s not really awake. “Okay,” he mumbles, then closes his eyes and is out again. 

Laurel gives Heidi a look but doesn’t say anything until they’re at the coffee cart outside the hospital. “So,” she says once they’ve put in their orders. “How long has he been calling you Mom?”

“He’s done it a few times,” Heidi says, feeling something twist inside her. “Since he’s been in the hospital. He said he wants me to be his mom.” 

Laurel smiles. “That’s great. That’s fantastic.”

Heidi lets out a shaky sigh. “I’m not so sure,” she admits. “If they don’t let me keep him…”

“You can’t think like that,” Laurel says fiercely. “You go into it thinking you’ve already lost, it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy. You need to keep positive, okay?”

Heidi nods. Steadies her shoulders. “You’re right,” she admits. “I need to not be falling apart over this. I’m just… I’m really scared.”

Laurel looks so sad. “Completely understandable,” she tells her. “But we can’t give up. Okay?” 

They get their coffees and head back to the hospital, only for Heidi to hear someone calling out her name. She turns to see Larry and Connor walking in. Connor looks exhausted and thin and unhappy, eyes red-ringed and bloodshot like he’s been crying. Larry has his hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey Laurel,” Larry says, a little hesitant, like he’s not sure he’s got the name right. It’s been a while since they’ve seen each other, Heidi knows, but they have met.

“Larry, hi,” says Laurel, in that same hesitant tone. She looks at Connor and smiles a bit more warmly. “And you must be Connor. I don’t think I’ve seen you since you were a toddler.” She winces immediately. “Fuck, I can’t believe I just said that.” Then she looks at Larry apologetically. “Shit, sorry for saying fuck in front of your kid.”

Connor blinks a few times like he has absolutely no idea what to make of this woman. 

Larry smiles, but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “It’s nice to see you,” he says, sounding sincere. Then he looks at Heidi. “Can we talk?”

Heidi nods. “Sure,” she says. She looks at Laurel, then at Connor. “How about you two go up to Evan’s room? He was sleeping, but he woke up for a moment.” She looks apologetic. “I hate knowing he’s alone.”

Laurel and Connor head off, and Heidi turns back to the coffee cart. Larry follows her, orders a coffee, then they stand a little ways away to talk. 

“About child services,” Larry says after a while. 

Heidi feels her chest start to ache. “They still haven’t given me an answer.”

Larry looks so sad. Rubs his face. He looks exhausted. “Connor’s worried that Evan might kill himself,” he says, a little bluntly. “If he ends up back in foster care. And…” He looks at her, clearly devastated. “I don’t think he’s being melodramatic. Not… not knowing how Evan got so hurt.”

Heidi feels a little like she’s been punched in the face. 

Her eyes fill with tears immediately. 

Fuck. Fuck. 

She hadn’t wanted to let herself think along those lines, but… 

“I think he’s right,” she says shakily. “I think… I know that going back into foster care will be bad for him. Really bad for him.” She wipes her face. “I know I fucked up, I know, but I can keep him safe. I can keep him safer than foster care. Can take care of him.”

“I got some advice,” Larry says. “From a judge who specializes in family court cases. Her advice is to play up the mental health angle. Make sure they realize just how much taking him away from you will impact that.” He pauses for a moment. “And to really look into the abuse when he was in his dad’s custody.” He looks a little pained. “Obviously we know how much damage the guy’s done this time, but what about before? What has he done in the past? We know he won’t be going back to Mark, but this can help make a case for him staying somewhere he feels safe.” 

Heidi feels a little sick. “I know a little bit,” she says quietly. “In the x-rays… he’s had broken ribs before that haven’t healed well. Collarbone, too. A broken arm. Definite signs of previous head trauma. From what the doctors can see, every time he was injured as a kid he got the bare minimum medical care. We can probably get hold of his medical records, but it might take a while.” 

Larry nods. “Okay.” He looks at her. “It’s also probably a good idea to get some letters of support. People who can vouch for your ability to take care of Evan.”

“Makes sense,” Heidi says. She looks at him. “Would you…”

She trails off as he pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket and hands it to her. “One step ahead of you, Herzberg.” He grins. “I also called Celeste Beck this morning. She’ll be faxing a letter to my home office later this afternoon.”

Heidi can’t help it. She pulls Larry into as tight a hug as she can manage without spilling their coffees. He hugs her back and they stand there for a long time. 

“Thank you,” she says. “I just… thank you, this means so much to me.”

Larry shakes his head. “I couldn’t live with myself if I hadn’t done everything I could,” he says, something raw in his voice. “I’m here, okay? For anything you need. We can do this.” 

Heidi feels this little bubble of hope well up inside her. She doesn’t want to examine it too much, afraid it’ll hurt too much when it bursts, but…

“We can do this,” she agrees. 

If she says it out loud then maybe she can believe it. 

* * *

Connor feels super awkward around this Laurel person. Like, he knows she’s Heidi’s best friend. They were supposed to go to dinner in D.C. before Connor flaked to hang out with M.

Laurel seems a bit…high strung. Like she’s full of nervous energy or whatever. Like she’s fucked up and is trying to make up for it.

Connor supposes he can’t blame her. He’d be scrambling to make things right if it took him more than two weeks to show up when his best friend’s kid was in the hospital. 

...It’s weird because it would mean Evan has a kid in that scenario. 

Freaky. 

Whatever. 

Connor’s got stuff to do today anyway. He’s brought Evan’s laptop with him to the hospital because he’s trying to get Evan’s new iPod set up. Zoe apparently managed to get it all registered on iTunes and whatever but then totally bailed when it came to the actual library of songs. She keeps insisting she has no idea what Evan likes. 

Luckily, Connor does and he’s come prepared with his music already loaded up to transfer into Evan’s library on his shitty external hard drive. It’s slow as fuck and hella clunky but it has a lot of memory and that’s the important thing. 

Is this the most helpful thing Connor can be doing after Evan’s basically admitted he doesn’t want to be alive if he has to go back to foster care?

No, probably not. 

But Connor is a stupid teenager and he doesn’t have, like, a medical degree or a law degree and he doesn’t know anything else that can help so. He’s gonna set up an iPod so Evan has some damn music. Connor keeps trying to leave his with Evan but Evan keeps sneaking it back into his pocket before Connor goes. Like a reverse pickpocket. 

If he can set this up, maybe it’ll help. 

Connor doesn’t know. He just needs to do something. 

“So,” Laurel says as she and Connor head up to Evan’s room. “How are you feeling? Heidi said you just got home over the weekend.” 

Connor frowns a bit. “I’m fine, thanks for asking.” 

He’s getting really good at saying that. 

Maybe if he repeats it enough he’ll believe it. 

Laurel frowns at him. “You know I’m a political reporter right?” 

“Uh. Yeah.”

“So you should know I can smell bullshit a mile away,” She says. “And that answer fucking stinks, kid.”

Connor almost smiles. “Fine. I’m like. Going out of my mind because I’m really worried about Evan. Really worried he’s not okay and that he… won’t get better if they take him away from Heidi. And, like, my dad keeps trying to give me snacks throughout the day like I’m a fucking toddler and it is really annoying. Before we came here he brought me ants on a log.” 

“You don’t like raisins?”

“I don’t mind raisins,” Connor says. “I just don’t like being babied.” 

Laurel nods. “Parents have a hard time letting go of the baby thing, I’ve noticed.” 

Connor shrugs. 

Evan’s still sleeping when they get to his room, so Connor settles into the chair Heidi usually takes and gets to work moving some music onto Evan’s new iPod. He starts with his “Evan” playlist (which is every song they’ve ever talked about together because Connor’s a sap) and his “Margaret” playlist, which is all stuff from artists Connor knows Evan’s mom liked. 

“I got him that, you know,” Laurel says quietly. “The iPod. As a gift for his birthday.”

“Cool,” Connor says distractedly. 

“Have you and Evan talked at all about what happens with the two of you now?” Laurel asks. 

Connor doesn’t understand. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, even if we assume a best-case scenario and he gets to stay with Heidi, he’s still got a lot of recovering to do. You’re gonna stick by him, right?”

Connor blinks a few times. “Of course. Evan’s my… he’s my best friend.” 

“Heard there’s a bit more to it than that.” 

Connor feels his face flush. “Does Heidi tell you everything?”

“Only when things are life or death,” She says lightly. “So. I’m not asking to judge, but. Heidi’s my family, which means so is her kid. I want to look out for them. You sure you’re in this for the long haul?”

Connor nods. “Absolutely.”

“Even if Evan’s not interested in the two of you being any more than friends?”

Connor’s jaw hangs open a little. 

“Look, coming out is confusing. I’m sure you remember,” Laurel says. “And Evan’s just had all of this trauma. If he’s not ready for a relationship with you right now, are you going to be able to respect that?”

Connor is like. Offended on his own behalf. Does he just project out a vibe of “total failure” or something? 

“Of course,” Connor says. “I love him. But he’s also my best friend and… all I care about him being safe and happy. Okay? No need to interrogate me.”

* * *

Evan seems pleased to see Laurel, even if he’s not particularly energetic. He’s clearly tired, clearly drained and Heidi can tell that he’s trying his best to stay positive but there’s only really so much he can do. 

They all sit for a while and talk while he’s awake. Connor holds his hand and sits in the seat next to his bed and cracks dumb jokes in an effort to make him smile. Stupid dumb jokes that make zero sense to Heidi but seem to mean something to Evan. 

When lunch arrives for Evan, Larry puts his foot down and tells Connor they have to go get something to eat, but that they’ll come back once Connor’s had lunch of his own. Connor doesn’t seem exactly thrilled about this, but he doesn’t protest too much. 

Before he leaves, Evan asks him to come closer, then leans in to kiss him. 

He smiles as they break apart. The first real smile Heidi’s seen all day. 

Something inside her chest twists painfully. 

Fuck. 

She doesn’t want to separate them. It would be cruel to separate them, after everything. 

Once Evan’s finished eating his lunch, he winces a bit. Looks uncomfortable. 

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

Evan gives a pale imitation of a smile. “Just a bit of a headache,” he says. “It’s no big deal.”

“Try again, kid,” says Laurel immediately.

Evan looks appropriately chastened. “Okay, it’s pretty bad.”

“Your morphine drip is there for a reason,” Heidi reminds him, and Evan’s face falls. 

“I hate the way it makes me feel,” he says weakly. 

“Tough,” says Laurel firmly. “You need to heal.” She puts the button in his hand. “Go ahead.” 

Evan still looks a little uncertain. Heidi grabs his other hand and squeezes it tightly. “You’re safe, okay? You’re safe. It’s okay.”

He blinks a few times, nods, then pushes the button for the morphine drip. 

It doesn’t take him long to fall back to sleep. 

Once Evan’s asleep, Heidi looks at Laurel. She looks like she’s about to lose it. 

“I am so sorry. I should have been here.”

Heidi tries to smile. “You had work.”

“I should have argued it was a family emergency,” Laurel says guiltily. “I should have…” She blinks. Sighs. “Here I am, trying to convince you to move to D.C. so you’ll have people and when you need me, I’m not around.”

Heidi doesn’t know what to say. 

Because she’s not wrong. 

Laurel hasn’t been here, and Heidi’s been alone. Lost. If it hadn’t been for Larry and Agnes, she doesn’t know what she would have done. 

“Yeah,” she says finally. “It’s… it’s a bullshit situation, Laurel, and I don’t blame you for not being here earlier, but…” She tries to smile. “It really would have helped, you know?”

“I know,” says Laurel, her cheeks burning with shame. She tries to smile as well. “I love you, so much, and it kills me that I wasn’t there, but…” She sighs again. “I could have tried harder. Should have tried harder. I let the job get in the way. Again.” 

“I’ve done that so many times,” Heidi admits. “So, so many times. My work life balance is completely shit, and it’s…” There’s a lump in her throat. She tries to continue. “Seriously, Laurel, the universe must think I’m a fucking idiot. Working too hard is what killed my husband and I just go ahead and throw myself into work to deal with it? I take legal guardianship of a kid and then I’m never home to see him? That’s… fuck, I’m an idiot. I’m such an idiot.”

“What’s happening with work?” Laurel asks. 

“I’m on leave until further notice,” Heidi tells her tiredly. “The boss wasn’t thrilled, but it’s hard to argue with emergency brain surgery.” She sighs. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know when I can go back or if I should go back or…” She lets out a shaky breath. “And it all depends on Evan. On what’s going to happen to Evan.”

“Still no word about whether you get to keep him?” 

Heidi shakes her head. “None.” She pulls the letter from Larry out of her pocket. “Larry wrote me a letter of support, saying that I should stay his legal guardian. There’s another letter coming from another high profile member of the community.” 

“I’ll write one,” Laurel says immediately. 

“That might help, actually,” Heidi says. “Larry sought out some independent advice, so I’ve got some things I need to figure out.” She straightens her shoulders. “I’m a goddamn lawyer, I can put a strong enough case together to keep my kid. I have to.”

It’s a little bit like a fog has lifted. 

Like she’s fighting her way out of a deep sleep. 

This is what she does. 

Who she is. 

She knows what she needs to do.

Laurel looks at her. “What do you need?”

Heidi nods. “I need you to stay with him,” she says, steadying her shoulders. “Tell him I’ll be back. I need to get to work.”

* * *

The next time Evan wakes up, it takes him a little while to wake up properly. He feels like he’s fighting through fog, like he’s still kind of floating, and he knows that it’s the morphine. 

He hates this. 

He hates it so much. 

He vows not to hit the button again any time soon. He’d rather be in pain than feel like this. 

“Hey kid,” says a voice he doesn’t immediately recognize. Evan looks over to see Laurel sitting in the chair next to his bed. She’s on her laptop, wearing glasses, and she looks tired. 

“What time is it?” Evan asks. 

Laurel checks her watch. “Just after seven. You’ve been asleep awhile.” 

Evan frowns. “Where’s Heidi?”

It’s weird that she’s not here. It makes him feel kind of off-kilter. 

Laurel closes her laptop. Looks at Evan. “She needed some time to work on your case.”

Evan blinks. “My case?”

Laurel nods. “Heidi’s pulling out all the stops. There’ll be a hearing scheduled for sometime next week. And we both know Heidi’s brilliant. I’m sure the judge will make the right decision and let you stay with her.”

Evan’s heart leaps. Genuinely just skyrockets out of his chest for a moment. 

Heidi’s brilliant. She’s smart and she’s savvy and she knows what she’s doing. If anyone can sort this out, it’s her. If she goes into full-on lawyer mode, if she gets super focused and throws everything into it, then there’s no way she can lose. 

Right?

Almost as soon as the bubble of hope finishes rising up in his chest, it pops immediately, bringing him right back down to reality. 

There’s no winning this. No matter how good at her job Heidi is, there’s no winning this, because Evan doesn’t deserve this. 

Evan doesn’t deserve to have someone as great as Heidi on his side. 

He just…

The universe hates him, and he doesn’t fucking deserve to be here. He doesn’t deserve Heidi, he definitely doesn’t deserve Connor and all that’s happening the longer this goes on is he’s making it harder on everyone. 

Just making the people who were foolish enough to care about him hurt more. 

He shouldn’t have survived. It would have been kinder if he hadn’t survived. 

Then again, life has never been interested in being kind to him. 

He keeps thinking about what Connor said. 

_ “You gonna walk into traffic? Throw yourself off a bridge?” _

_ “Overdosing’s not so bad, really, you just gotta make sure you’re on your back so you can properly choke to death on your own vomit.” _

Fuck. 

He’s such a fucking coward, he…

It’s not like he can do anything from here, anyway. 

Even if maybe he should. 

Laurel’s looking at him, this wary expression on her face. 

“What’s going on, kid?” she asks point-blank.

Evan tries to shrug. Regrets it instantly. It hurts. 

It really hurts. 

Fuck. The morphine from earlier is wearing off. He tries not to make it obvious he’s in pain. 

Laurel frowns. “Hey,” she says quietly. “Evan. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“I’m f-fine.”

“You’re crying.”

Is he?

Fuck. 

Evan takes as deep a breath as he can manage. 

Tries to figure out what to say. 

“If it d-d-doesn’t work,” he chokes out, “You’ll look after H-Heidi, right? You’ll m-m-make sure she isn’t alone?”

Laurel’s eyes go wide. She reaches out and takes his hand, her grip almost bruisingly tight. “Don’t give up,” she says, almost angrily. “You can’t give up before we’ve tried. Heidi’s going to figure this out, you have to believe-”

“But if she c-c-can’t?”

Laurel stares at him for a long moment. 

“That’s not an option,” she says fiercely. “Failure is not an option. You gotta hang on, okay kid? You owe it to Heidi to hang on.”

Evan swallows. 

Nods. 

He doesn’t know if that’s true. 

All things considered, Heidi’s probably better off without him. 

But he knows he doesn’t have it in him to argue. 

* * *

Zoe comes home to find Granny in the kitchen. She’s always cooking, it seems. Zoe wonders if Granny thinks they don’t eat if she’s not around to feed them. 

“Hello chicken,” she greets Zoe. “How was school today?”

_ Terrible.  _

It’s always terrible. Jared won’t leave her alone. He’s bitching about revenue loss and the fact that they “don’t hang out” anymore. Seems to have noticed how Zoe’s sticking to Sabrina like glue. Doesn’t seem to care for that, especially since Sabrina punched him. 

Zoe’s been trying to avoid him, but Jared always seems to catch her off guard. Show up when she doesn’t expect it. When Sabrina isn’t around. 

“Gotta admit, Murph, I didn’t expect you to enlist a lesbian to do your dirty work for you,” Jared had said. “Now we had a deal… you keep your people out of my hair and your pictures…” He’d smiled then. 

“You only said my mom and-and Evan,” Zoe had protested weakly. 

But now she’s convinced that she’s totally fucked. Jared is gonna show those photos to people. She’s completely fucked. Her life is over and she’s expected to just. Keep going to school. 

Granny fixes Zoe with a look when she doesn’t answer. Sits down at the breakfast bar beside her. “Want to tell me what’s going on in that head of yours?”

Zoe shrugs. “I did some. Messed up stuff. And I think it’s coming back to bite me.”

Granny nods sympathetically. “Is it something you can apologize for?”

Zoe shrugs. “I… there’s a boy at school.”

Granny looks confused. “A boy? I thought you and Sabrina…”

“We are,” Zoe says softly. “The guy. I thought we were friends. But. He knows some of the messed up stuff I did. And I’m scared he’s gonna tell people. Make them hate me more.”

Granny gives her a frown. “Now I know I’m old and not the most  _ with it  _ when it comes to how things are done now,” Granny says. “But help me understand. What’s the thing you did?”

_ Slept with someone for drugs.  _

_ Let a guy use me and take pictures of me.  _

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Zoe says. “It was just. Bad. And I could… this could make things really bad for me.”

Zoe thinks about all of the lectures her parents gave her about trusting people on the internet and how anything you ever put online could follow you everywhere. She wishes they had thought to tell her not to trust people she knew personally. To be careful about boys with cameras. 

It’s not fair. 

Jared knew she wanted drugs and used that to make her do stuff she wasn’t okay with. Has pictures that prove just how desperate and pathetic she really is. 

If this gets out her life is over. She might as well pack up and move in with Granny and, like, go be a hermit or something. This is a life ruiner. Forget high school, Zoe knows if naked pictures of her get out she can’t kiss college and everything after goodbye. Might as well just become a stripper. 

God her mom would  _ kill her  _ if this got out. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

And if Sabrina knew? About the pictures? It’s bad enough that she knows about Zoe sleeping with Jared. If she found out about the pictures and how many times Zoe did it… 

Sabrina’s not gonna want to be with some skanky idiot who would fuck someone got drugs. She’s just not gonna want her anymore. 

“Chicken,” Granny says quietly. “You seem really upset.”

Zoe shrugs. Wipes her eyes. “I don’t want my life to be over… but if people find out…”

Zoe expects Granny to tell her that she needs to make sure people  _ don’t  _ find out. It’s what her mom would do. 

But Granny gathers her in a hug. “Whatever this boy has on you,” she says softly. “It’s not okay for him to be using it against you.”

Zoe just starts to cry. “But it’s my fault.”

“People make mistakes. Especially when they’re young. You are sixteen. Making mistakes is part of growing up. I’m sure whatever it is isn’t as bad as you’re afraid it is.”

_ No. It’s worse.  _

Zoe just keeps crying. Granny hugs her tightly and tells her everything will be okay. That she can always ask for help. 

“Chicken your family loves you. We will stand by you no matter what. It’s going to be alright. Whatever it is, it will be alright.”

Zoe doesn’t believe her. But she can’t say that. So she just cries into Granny’s shoulder until things feel less overwhelming. 

* * *

Granny Murphy insists on taking Connor to the bookstore on the day before she’s due to leave. She keeps fussing over him. She bemoans the fact that they’ve hardly spent any time together. 

She was at the hospital every day and made him dinner every night but he doesn’t complain. She and Connor browse the shelves for a while. 

“Chicken,” she says over a paperback of some mystery. 

Connor looks at her. 

“I know you’ve been having a tough time. But please make sure you’re looking out for your sister.”

Connor nods. “Of course. I… I always try.”

She smiles at him. “Now, Lawrence tells me you’re not speaking to your mother.”

Connor frowns at her. “Granny come on.”

“I’m sure you have your reasons,” she says crisply. “But I know if it were my boy who was fresh out of the hospital, I’d want to hear from him.”

Connor chews his lip. “She hates me.”

Granny shakes her head. “No, she doesn’t. She might have shite for brains, but she isn’t the sort who can hate her baby.”

Connor feels his shoulders drop. “She’s got a problem with me being gay.”

Granny sighs. “Well that’s not very good is it?” She gives Connor a long look. “She’s got her own learning to do, love. But she’ll get there.”

“Thought you hated her,” Connor mutters. 

Granny laughs. “She’s not who I would have picked for your dad. But she’s why you and Zoe exist. So I could never actually hate her.”

Connor nods. 

Granny buys Connor like. Twelve books. It’s excessive but he lets her spoil him. They go out for lunch after shopping and Granny bullies Connor into getting a cookie with his salad. He confesses he’s not even sure he’ll be able to finish the salad. 

“Well then eat the cookie first,” she says. 

He makes her split it with him. But he does eat his half and he doesn’t throw it up. So. It’s probably a win. 

She gives him a tight hug that night before bed because she’s got an early flight. “You take care of yourself, chicken. Don’t make me come back out here.”

“Maybe I can visit this summer?” Connor hears himself say. “If that’s okay?”

She smiles. “I’d love that.”

* * *

When Heidi gets back to the hospital just before they stop letting visitors in, Evan’s asleep again. Laurel’s sitting there at his bedside, her face ashen. She offers Heidi a weak smile when she sees her, but it doesn’t stick. 

Then she stands up and pulls Heidi into a tight hug. 

“How is he?” Heidi asks when she pulls away. 

Laurel’s eyes and nose are both pink. “Kid’s in bad shape,” she says unhappily. “And not just physically.” She wipes her face. “He’s already given up.”

Heidi feels her heart sink. 

“I know,” she whispers. “I know, he…”

Laurel pulls her back into a hug. 

They stay there for a long time. 

“Okay,” says Laurel once they break apart a second time. “So. Part of your case for keeping him needs to be a plan for how you’re going to keep this kid safe.” She smiles a little shakily. “You gotta get this kid a therapist if he’s gonna have any chance of getting through this.”

Heidi nods. “I’ll talk to the doctors. See if they have any recommendations.” 

Laurel nods back. Bites her lip. Sighs. “Maybe you just have to keep going like it’s not even a question,” she says after a moment. “Get everything ready for him to come home when he’s well enough like it’s a done deal. Make him see that you believe this is going to work.”

Heidi can see what she means. 

Understands what Laurel’s saying. 

It’s just…

“What if I don’t?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. “What if I’m  _ not  _ sure? I don’t want to just give up, but… I just don’t know how it’s all going to land. No matter how good a case I make, at the end of the day, the decision’s out of my hands.”

“Doesn’t matter if you don’t believe it,” Laurel says after a moment. “Act like you do. Keep going like you do.” She offers Heidi an almost grim smile. “Fake it til you make it.” 

Heidi nods. Takes in a deep breath. 

“Okay,” she says. “I can do that.” 

“You can,” Laurel assures her. “I’ll help. What do you need?” 

Heidi laughs a little. “I have no idea.” 

Laurel smiles a little. “Fair enough. Okay. When did you last get a decent night’s sleep?”

Heidi thinks it might have been the other night, but all the days are blurring into each other and she honestly doesn’t know. 

Laurel puts her arm around her shoulder. “Okay. Here’s the plan. Let’s get you home. We’ll crack open a bottle of wine, relax a little, then get some sleep. Tomorrow, we’ll get some breakfast and come up with a game plan, then come back to the hospital and let Evan know what’s happening.” She shrugs. “Maybe it’ll help. Everything’s so uncertain right now, maybe having some kind of a plan will help.”

Heidi doesn’t disagree. 

She looks at Evan, who’s asleep. Bites her lip, then goes over and gently shakes him awake. 

His eyes fly open and he stares right at her, eyes wide and terrified. 

“Hey sweetheart,” she says soothingly. “I’m sorry to wake you, I just wanted to let you know that I’m going home to get some sleep.”

This horrible fear flashes across his face, but he nods. “You should sleep,” he says, his voice rough. “Chair can’t be comfortable.” 

“I’ll be back tomorrow morning,” she promises. “Make sure you use the morphine drip when you need it, okay? You need to rest and heal.” She kisses him on the cheek. “I love you. Be safe.” 

She lets Laurel drive her car home. Lets her stop on the way for wine and chocolate. Lets Laurel fuss a little. Heidi doesn’t really have the energy to argue with her right now. 

They sit in the living room on the sofa with a bottle of wine between them. 

It takes a while for either of them to get around to saying anything of any substance. 

Laurel downs her glass, then looks at Heidi, something fierce in her expression. 

“I fucked up.”

Heidi shakes her head. “You have your own life-”

Laurel just looks at her. Shakes her head. “I talked this big game about you having people if you moved to D.C,” she says. “And then when I had the chance to prove it, I fucked up.”

Heidi wants to argue. 

Except that she doesn’t think that she can. 

“ _ Are _ things okay out here?” Laurel asks cautiously. “Do you have… do you have what you need? To look after him?”

Heidi rubs her face. “If he gets to stay, then… yes,” she says with a nod. “I… Larry has been amazing. His mom, too. She came all the way out from New Hampshire.”

Laurel nods. Looks like she’s thinking. “She’s Irish, right? I think you mentioned her.”

Heidi laughs a little. “Very Irish. Tough as nails. Very no-nonsense. Exactly what Larry and the kids need right now, especially after Cynthia just… fucked off to rehab right after Connor ODed.”

Laurel swears under her breath. “I always knew I hated her.”

“Larry’s got his own shit,” Heidi confesses. “He’s got his hands full with Connor and Zoe and all the crap that’s gone down, but…” She looks at Laurel. “He’s been here for me this whole time.”

Laurel nods. Looks thoughtful. “I know you said he wasn’t there when David-”

“There was a lot going on I didn’t know about,” Heidi says firmly. “As far as I’m concerned, Larry has more than made up for that. He’s proven that he has my back so many times.” She sighs. Takes a sip of her wine. Nods. “I’m not alone here.”

Laurel smiles. “No,” she says, something significant in her voice. “You’re not.”

  
  


Laurel gets a flight back to D.C. on Sunday afternoon. She has to be back at work the next day. Heidi’s sad to see her go. Sad it’s such a flying visit. 

But glad that she came. 

Heidi feels a little better about all of it. A little more prepared. Having Laurel there helped her focus. Helped her feel like maybe it’s all going to be okay.

Now that she’s got a date for the hearing, she’s feeling a little prepared. A little more like she can do this. Practicing law is what she does, what she’s been doing for nearly twenty years. 

She can do this. 

Laurel stops by to say goodbye to Evan at the hospital before her flight. Gives him a huge hug, promises to visit again as soon as she can, and tells him to be strong. 

“You’re tough,” she says to Evan, her tone pointedly. “You hear me? You’re tough. Strong. Just like Heidi. So you keep fighting, okay?”

Evan smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

Heidi gives Laurel a tight hug. Thanks her for everything. 

And then Laurel goes. 

And it’s just Evan and Heidi. 

Evan slumps back against his pillows. The smile’s slid right off his face. He’s kind of staring into the distance, looking unhappy. 

Heidi’s chest aches. 

“Laurel’s right,” she says after a while. “We’ve got to keep fighting.” She smiles at him. “We both know you’re a fighter.” 

Evan smiles a little, but it doesn’t stick. “I’ll try,” he says. 

Heidi wants to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. Beg him not to give up. 

But she doesn’t. 

She just takes his hand, squeezes it tightly, and tells him that she loves him. 

For now, that’s all she can do. 

* * *

On Monday, after three weeks away, Connor is back at school. 

Zoe even agrees to give him a ride to school. “So you don’t have to walk in all alone.”

Connor stares at her hard on the drive. “What have they done to my locker?”

“I took care of it,” Zoe responds. 

Not off to a promising start. 

Connor hasn’t exactly been trying too hard to stay on top of his school work. He did a bit in the psych ward and some while he was hanging around Evan’s hospital room but. He hasn’t done enough clearly. When he gets into his first few classes of the day, Connor has no idea what’s going on. 

It reminds him of freshman year a lot. When he cut so much school. He never knew what the teachers were talking about when he got back. 

He’s almost grateful when he gets to trig because then at least Sabrina is there. She gives him a cautious smile. 

“How’s being back?” She asks him before the bell rings. 

Connor shakes his head. “Ask me at the end of the day.”

Mrs. Carlson asks Connor to hang back after class. He didn’t mouth off, not even once, mostly because he was staring blankly at the whiteboard trying to follow what the fuck was going on. 

He approaches her desk awkwardly. 

“Glad to see you back,” she says simply. “How’s your friend doing?”

Connor frowns a bit. “He’s been better,” he says. 

“And you?” She offers Connor a sad smile. “How are you holding up?”

“You know?”

Mrs. Carlson nods. “Your teachers were all briefed after our last meeting. I’m sorry to hear you’ve been having such a hard time. I… I genuinely hope my class hasn’t been making things more difficult.”

Connor finds himself blinking rapidly, surprised. He knows she’s joking but. He doesn’t know. Something about it cuts him to the core.”Despite my theory that trigonometry was designed to torture teenagers into insanity, it’s not really at the top of my list of worries right now.”

Mrs. Carlson gives him a tentative smile. “How are you really, Connor? You were awfully quiet in class today.”

“I… honestly I’m not exactly great?”

She nods. “If you ever need anything. Extension on assignments, some extra time to go over stuff… I want you to know I’m here.”

Connor’s shocked. He sort of assumed she would have been glad to see him out of school for three weeks. “Sorry I’m always a bastard in your class,” he mutters, looking at his shoes. 

She laughs. Actually laughs. “You know why I became a math teacher?”

Connor shrugs. “You hate young people and want to beat the joy out of them?”

She shakes her head. “Because  _ I  _ flunked math when I was a freshman. I had the worst teacher. He didn’t explain anything, embarrassed kids who asked questions, never tried to help the kids who were struggling. I hated math.” She smiles. “And then I had to take a college level algebra class my first year after high school. And the teacher just… was incredible. Explained things. And suddenly it  _ clicked.  _ I got it. And I  _ loved it.  _ So I wanted to give other people the chance to love it too. To give them a shot at things clicking.”

Connor sort of smiles. “You teach math because… you don’t want other kids to hate it?”

“Yup,” she says. “But I… I’ll admit I have a soft spot for the ones who hate it. Because I was one.”

Connor nods. 

“See you tomorrow Connor.”

He nods. Leaves the classroom to go to lunch. Alana and Sabrina are at their usual table, but today Zoe is sitting with them. 

It’s not the same without Evan. 

Connor hates it. 

Alana hugs him when she sees him and talks to him about the health benefits of his lame peanut butter sandwich and carrot sticks. It’s not the same. But he appreciates it. 

His dad packed Connor’s lunch today. 

Connor had been embarrassed by it, honestly, since he’s been responsible for his own lunch since he was, like, ten. 

His dad stuck a note in the bag. 

_ “Hang in there.” _

Connor finds his eyes watering at the stupid note. It’s such a childish thing to feel stuff about but he does. 

He does. 

Connor feels like he’s hanging on by a thread right now. Everyone is looking at him. Everyone knows all of his shit. Evan’s shit. 

Connor hates it. 

He misses Evan so much he could just scream. 

And people are staring and Jared Kleinman calls him “Quitter” on his way into English and Connor. Hates this. Hates that he can’t even get mad enough to insult Jared. 

He just takes it. 

He’s just gonna have to keep taking it. 

Mr. Stevens asks how he is after class. Asks Connor how Evan’s doing. Connor sort of suspects Mr. Stevens cares more about Evan. That he’s asking after Connor out of obligation. 

Evan is pretty obviously Mr. Stevens’s favorite. 

Connor doesn’t even blame him. He’s bad at essays and doesn’t try terribly hard in this class. 

He tells him that Evan’s okay. Getting better. Getting stronger. 

He wants to tell him that they might take Evan away. That Connor can’t sleep at night because he’s so scared that Evan is already lost to him. That he’ll show up at the hospital one day and find out that Evan’s just. Gone. 

But it’s not his thing to say so he doesn’t. 

Zoe meets Connor by his locker. Someone has stuck a maxi pad to it, and Zoe’s aggressively ripping it down when Connor arrives. 

“You don’t have to bother,” he says quietly. “Let them do their worst. It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters,” Zoe snaps. 

Connor can’t bring himself to argue. 

He goes to the hospital after school. Evan seems happy to see him, but Heidi privately tells him that Evan hasn’t had a good day. Bad headache made his physical therapy almost impossible. 

Connor hates it. He can’t  _ do  _ anything. 

He can’t do anything to fix this. 

He just wants to crawl into bed and wake up in a year when this is all over. 

But he pushes through. Holds Evan’s hand and sits in bed with him. They listen to music with the volume low. 

Connor thinks about just… crashing his car on his way home. He doesn’t think he’s got it in him to keep going. 

But then Evan kisses his cheek softly. 

And Connor tells himself he has to keep fighting. 

  
  


Connor and Zoe both agree to go and see Evan after school. Zoe asks Connor to meet at their lockers after school so she can drive them. 

Connor shoves his hands into his pockets and walks to meet Zoe. He has a pounding headache and the day has been a fucking awful blur. He just wants to go and see Evan. Not that visiting with him is a real joyful experience. Everything is so fucking tense. Evan is scaring the shit out of Connor. 

Every time anybody mentions the future or what might happen, he just gets sadder. More hopeless. He keeps refusing his pain meds and it is killing Connor to see him like this but he doesn’t know what else to even do. 

So he goes. Every day he goes. 

And sometimes Zoe goes, too.

Connor turns the corner to see Zoe speaking to Jared Kleinman. Her face is pale and she looks fucking scared. 

Connor knows what that asshole did to her. 

He picks up his pace on the way down the hall. Jared seems to spot him coming because he hightails it out of there pretty fast. Connor’s torn for a moment; does he go after Jared and beat the shit out of him or does he talk to Zoe?

Zoe is as white as a sheet when Connor reaches her locker. She looks like she might throw up. 

“Zo, hey, what’s going on?”

Connor knows it’s fucking bad when his sister flings herself at him. Connor pulls her into a hug. He knows Zoe well enough that she does not want to be spotted crying in the hallway at school, so he wraps his arm tight around her shoulder and ushers her out the doors. To her car. Zoe doesn’t let go for a long time. 

He doesn’t know what Jared might have said to her, but he is pretty sure he’s going to kill him. 

Zoe pulls away as suddenly as she grabbed on. Wipes her eyes on her sleeve. Her makeup is all smudged. “Fuck,” She mutters. “God, just when I think I can’t possibly have fucked anything else up…”

Connor waits to see what she’ll say. He doesn’t want to push. He doesn’t. But he’s scared and she’s hurt and he needs more information before he decides how many of Jared’s teeth he’s going to kick in. 

“Do you have a fucking cigarette?” Zoe says, wiping her face again. 

Connor does. 

He gives it to her. Lights for her. She exhales and two more tears stream down her cheeks. 

Fuck it. Connor lights a cigarette of his own. “Zo… you know you can tell me.”

She shakes her head. “You will try to fucking kill Jared and I really don’t need to be an accessory to murder right now.”

Connor almost smiles. Almost. He just stays quiet instead. 

“I uh…” Zoe looks at her shoes. She’s wearing a pair of Chucks that Connor’s never seen her wear before. They’re baby pink and decorated with little hand-drawn stars. 

They’re cute. 

Girlish. 

Young. 

“I talked to my guidance counselor,” Zoe says softly. “About… the pills and the…” She scrunches up her nose. “I’ve been feeling… Like I felt kind of sick at first? When I stopped?”

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

Connor… he didn’t know it was that bad. 

“You said you were taking breaks-”

“Wel I fucking lied, didn’t I?” Zoe says, sounding disgusted. “You were in the hospital.”

Connor doesn’t know what to do.

“And I’ve just…” Zoe shakes her head. “I don’t want to… I don’t want to go away, you know?” 

“Yeah,” Connor says because he fucking gets it. 

“So I talked to the guidance counselor about the. Drugs and whatever?” She folds her arms over her middle, flicks the end of her cigarette. “Dad’s a mess, trying to deal with us and help Heidi, mom’s fucked off to rehab, and you… just got home. I didn’t want to…”

“You can tell me this kind of shit,” Connor says fiercely. “I actually know this shit, I could have -”

“I know,” Zoe says. She wipes her eyes again. “I fucked up. I was upset. I said that… I said Jared’s name when I was talking about buying them and… They searched his locker. Again. People are definitely suspicious.”

Connor feels his heart jump. “They find anything?” 

She shakes her head. “He’s too smart to keep anything in his locker anymore. Nobody said it was me who got his stuff searched again but… he came and told me I better remember to keep my mouth shut.”

Connor shakes his head. “Unbelievable. I fucking hate that guy.”

But Zoe’s crying harder still. “C-Connor he has  _ pictures _ of me.”

Connor's blood runs cold. He genuinely feels like he has ice in his veins. 

“What?”

Zoe just cries harder. “I fucked up, I keep fucking up, and he… he took pictures of me on his camera and-and-and he keeps threatening to p-put them online if I don’t…” She goes into the stack of books in her arms and pulls out this horrible, grainy black and white xerox copy. 

It’s obviously Zoe. And she’s obviously naked, though whoever made the copy had the decency to sharpie out the more private parts. 

They also wrote “CRACKWHORE” on the top. 

“He’s gonna give these to everyone, h-he’s gonna ruin my fucking life because I g-got him in trouble, I know it.” 

Connor looks at his sister. “Can I give you a hug?” he asks. 

Zoe nods miserably. 

Connor pulls her into a tight tight hug and tells her he won’t let it happen. Zoe laughs. “That’s cute but, it’s not like I can go to dad or whatever. The second anyone catches wind of this, the pictures disappear. We don’t have any proof.”

She’s right. He hates that she’s right. 

So Connor decides he’s going to get proof. 

Jared has fucked with the two people Connor cares about most. He’s going down for this. Connor’s not going to take this shit from him anymore. 

He messed with Evan. He messed with Zoe. 

And… and he’s messed with Connor enough for a lifetime. 

Connor’s going to make Jared Kleinman pay. 

* * *

Zoe is totally fucked. She knows how fucked she is, but she can’t bring herself to tell anyone but Connor. Sabrina knows something is wrong. She keeps asking Zoe if she’s okay but she can’t make the words come out. 

“It’s…. no. I’m not okay. But I can’t talk about it.”

Because if Sabrina finds out  _ why  _ she’s not okay she’s gonna blame Zoe. She’s been sympathetic about the Jared stuff so far but Zoe gets the feeling if she told Sabrina about the pictures she would tell Zoe she’s a stupid skank and dump her for good. She’s already risked too much by being seen with Zoe at school. Zoe will ruin whatever little scraps of dignity that Sabrina has left and she’ll never speak to Zoe again. 

So she can’t say. She just lets Sabrina hug her and pet her hair and say that whatever it is it will be okay. 

It’s a fucking lie. But it’s a nice lie. 

A very nice lie. And Zoe wants to hang onto the lie. She likes the lie. It’s a good lie. 

Her dad knows something is wrong too but he seems to have learned that trying to force the issue with her is no good. He keeps telling Zoe she needs to talk to someone. Makes vague mention of an appointment he wants to schedule. 

Which is code for therapy. 

Zoe doesn’t want to go down that road. If she does, she’s scared she’ll start screaming and never stop. There’s a horror movie happening behind her eyes all of the time. She can’t let it out. 

She goes with Connor to see Evan and even he seems to realize something is the matter. 

Which is a joke really. He’s in the  _ hospital.  _ Evan shouldn’t be worried about  _ her.  _

He looks at her when Connor gets up to go to the bathroom. Evan looks at her, this searching expression on his face. “Do you r-remember when I first moved here? And we took a walk together?”

Zoe nods. She’s not sure where this is going. “Yeah.”

“You said it f-felt sometimes like you were standing in the middle of a room screaming and nobody would notice.”

Ha. Zoe was such a child before all this. What did she fucking know? Nothing. She thought it was bad before but she was a fool. 

“I’d notice,” Evan says quietly. “I would notice.”

Zoe feels like she might cry again. She gives him a miserable smile. “Thanks.”

Evan tilts his head a little. “I… I kind of feel like that’s happening right now. You’re not actually screaming. But you might as well be.”

Zoe shakes her head. “Look. I’m fine. You need to worry about getting better okay? I’m okay.”

“It’s okay if you’re not,” Evan tells her. 

Zoe shakes her head. “I can’t afford not to be okay right now. Okay? I can’t just fall apart. Connor and my dad are both hanging on by a thread. It’s not fair to ask them to worry about me too.”

Evan opens his mouth to reply but then Connor’s back. He looks at the two of them. Like he suspects they were talking. 

“Everything okay?” Connor asks. 

“Fine,” Zoe says. “Everything is fine.”

On the drive home, Zoe looks at Connor and the hard set of his jaw. He seems pissed. 

“Look,” she says. “I really am fine.”

“No you’re not,” Connor snaps. “I know you’re not.”

“Well. What do you expect me to do?” Zoe demands. 

“You could tell someone. About what Jared did.”

“Oh yeah like anyone would believe me,” she mutters. “And even if they did, it’s my word against his. My reputation is in the toilet. Nobody would buy that Jerry Kleinman’s kid is a skeeze and I’m a victim here. You saw how I acted when Evan wouldn’t… when he wouldn’t sleep with me. I’m the Harbor Whore.”

“Don’t call yourself that,” Connor says softly. 

“It’s the truth. I’ve done stuff with half of the people I know. People wouldn’t believe that Jared did anything wrong.”

“What about dad?” Connor ventures. “He’d believe you.”

“I can’t tell dad!” Zoe yelps. “Are you  _ stupid?  _ He would freak out.”

Connor seems unimpressed. 

“He would and you know it. I don’t want dad to know I… if he finds out I was trading sex for drugs-”

“That’s  _ not  _ what was happening Zo.”

“He’ll lose his shit. You know he will. He’ll totally lose it and mom’s already lost it. I don’t know about you but I can’t really deal with another parent bailing on us.”

Connor shuts his mouth for a bit. Just drives. 

“I’d be there. I’d back you up. If you wanted to tell dad.”

“I don’t wanna tell dad,” Zoe says. 

“Dad would believe you.”

“I don’t want to tell him,” Zoe says, in tears again. “I don’t want him to know how much of a mess I am. How stupid I’ve been.”

“You think he doesn’t know already?” Connor says pointedly. “Obviously he doesn’t know everything but… he knows some of the stuff you’ve been up to. He knows.”

Zoe sniffles pitifully. “You’d be there?”

“Of course,” Connor says immediately. “I’ve got your back. Always. If he tries to say anything sexist bullshit I’ll kick his ass.”

“You’ll kick dad’s ass?” Zoe says. 

“Zo I will kick anybody who messes with you’s ass. I’ll kick my own ass if I gotta.”

Zoe smiles a little. 

“Okay,” she says with a shaky breath. “I’ll tell him. Just. Give me a couple of days. I’m not ready yet but… I’ll let you know. Okay?”

Connor nods. “Okay.”

* * *

Connor has not actively sought out Tommy Whittington in nearly two years. But he’s not terribly hard to find. Tommy’s taking a shop class this semester; everyone knows because the idiot nearly sawed his finger off back in January and missed like a week of school. Kept joking that at least he scored some decent drugs after the surgery. 

Connor ditches English and goes to find Tommy outside of the shop classrooms. He knows he usually heads straight to his car, smokes a bowl, and waits for Madison. At least that’s what Zoe told him. She had wanted to know if he was going to talk to Tommy about how Madison is blackmailing him. 

“What? Madison’s blackmailing him? Why?”

Zoe looks embarrassed. “I… he says that Maddie caught the two of you kissing at a party freshman year and threatened to tell everyone.” 

Connor genuinely has no memory of this. 

It does admittedly sound a lot like something he would have done at fifteen. 

Anyway, Connor decides he’s going to use this to his advantage. If Tommy doesn’t agree to help, Connor has no problem with blackmailing him too. 

Tommy’s one of the last kids out of class. He’s got sawdust in his hair as he starts to head out toward the parking lot. 

“Hey. Whittington. Can I talk to you for a minute?” Connor says, hurrying after him. Tommy freezes like a deer in the headlights. Looks at Connor like he’s not one hundred percent sure Connor is an actual person. 

“Connor. Hey,” Tommy says. Connor is struck again by how quiet this dude really is. He always expects this loud, obnoxious voice to come out of him, but he’s sort of soft-spoken. “Fuck, dude, I heard you were in the hospital. You okay?”

Connor nods. “I’m fine.”

“What about… what about Evan?” Tommy asks, a blush creeping up onto his face. 

“What about him?” Connor hears himself asking, almost defensively. 

Tommy blushes a deeper red. Jesus, fuck, of course Tommy’s got a thing for Evan. “He’s in my history class. He’s… nice? He explained the Cold War to me one time, which was pretty chill of him. I… Is he okay?”

“Not really, no,” Connor says, a little coldly. “He’s in the hospital. He’s in pretty bad shape still.”

Tommy shakes his head. “Fuck, dude, I’m so sorry. I really didn’t know what Jared’s big idea was and… I fucked up. Never shoulda listened to Maddie. She’s always getting me roped into her dumbass shit. All because of one stupid drunk makeout. I’m an idiot.”

Connor is also struck by how fucking dumb Tommy truly is. “Dude, does Madison even have proof that happened? Like a picture of something?”

Tommy’s eyes go wide. “Shit, you know, I don’t know.”

God, he’s an idiot. 

“Then it would be her word against yours. You could have just lied,” Connor says. 

“Shit. Never thought of that.”

Fuck he is such an idiot. 

But he’s a necessary idiot right now. “Okay, forget that. You’re really sorry about what happened with Evan?”

Tommy nods. “I really am. I got suspended and everything. I feel like a shithead.”

“Great. Then you can make it up to him by helping me out.” Connor relates to Tommy what he needs: to get Jared alone after school the next day. 

“Why?” Tommy asks. “Thought you were clean these days or whatever.”

“I am,” Connor says, not mentioning his colossal fuck up a couple of weeks back. “That’s not why. I need to… Look. Jared messed with Evan and he messed with my sister and I gotta do something about it.”

Tommy’s face goes pale. It makes him look especially stupid with the sawdust in his hair. “Jared’s been messing with Murph?”

Connor nods. 

“Dude, that’s fucked up, I love Murph she’s so funny…” Tommy shakes his head.

“He’s got. Pictures of her.”

Tommy’s eyes flash with recognition. “Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense. He’s got dirt on everybody. Takes pictures of people he sells to and shit.” He thinks for a minute. Connor wonders how difficult that is for him. “Shit I think he probably has pictures of me.”

Connor wants to smack him. Tommy is so dumb. 

“Okay, I can help. I’ll tell him to uh. Meet me for a pick-up? And then I’ll tell you where and when? He always brings his camera. For. Uh. He says. For progeny or whatever.”

“Posterity?”

“Yeah, that.”

Jesus Tommy is stupid. Whatever. 

“I… I want him alone,” Connor says, his voice coming out quiet and low. 

Tommy nods. “This is probably a dumb question but like. You’re not gonna actually kill him right? I heard you tried to shoot up your old school.”

Connor stares at him. “You agreed to help me… even though you genuinely think I might  _ murder  _ Jared?”

Tommy shrugs. Fuck he is seriously so fucking dumb does he not realize if that was Connor’s plan that he just agreed to help  _ orchestrate a murder.  _ And if Connor tried to shoot up his old school, how the fuck would he not be in jail? 

Jesus Christ. 

“If I tried to shoot up my old school, Tommy, why wouldn’t I be in prison?”

Tommy looks stumped. “My folks have gotten me out of all kinds of trouble.”

“I’m not gonna kill him. I just wanna take his camera. Maybe punch him.”

“Just his camera?” Tommy says again. Like he’s not sure. 

Connor balls up his fists. “He’s got some photos of Zo on there. Like I said, he’s been messing with her. I want to get him in trouble and so I gotta take the camera.”

“Fuck that guy. Let’s do this. I got your back,” Tommy says. He pulls out his phone. Texts Jared asking if he can pick up after school the next day. Asks to meet in the student parking lot at four. Jared replies that he’ll be there. “Okay. We’re good.”

“Great.”

* * *

Connor texts Zoe saying he got detention after school so he’ll see her at home later. She’s not really surprised. He’s always getting in trouble for stupid shit. 

She hopes he’ll be back soon. Zoe’s decided she needs to tell her dad about Jared. Things at school are officially out of control and she needs to… do something. She needs to bring in a grown-up and that makes her feel stupid and small and childish. 

She knows her dad is gonna flip out. 

Like no joke, he’s absolutely going to flip the fuck out. 

But Zoe’s at a loss about what else to even do. Sabrina thinks she should tell someone about Jared. She keeps gently encouraging Zoe every time his name comes up. 

Zoe just isn’t sure what good it’s even going to  _ do.  _ Her dad’s not going to be able to do anything about Jared. Like he’s probably just going to push more therapy which… no. 

Zoe doesn’t think she can keep doing that. Her shrink is like, nice or whatever, but she’s sort of a hippie and keeps asking Zoe what she hoped to accomplish by drinking or getting high. 

Because she doesn’t  _ know.  _ She just knows that doing it makes things... less. Like shit just matters less when she’s high. 

But that sounds fucking crazy. It makes her sound like…

Like Connor. 

He said that once, ages ago, in a screaming match with his dad. Said doing drugs made him feel less like a freak. 

And it’s. Exactly how Zoe feels. When she’s high or drunk she doesn’t have to worry about doing stuff  _ right.  _ She just is right. She’s exactly who people want her to be and she’s not silently screaming or being ignored. When she’s high people pay attention to her. Because she can demand it. She’s not held back. 

Or at least she  _ did.  _ Then all the shit with Jared happened and… 

When she’s high she can’t feel his fingers pushing in. She can’t feel his weight or smell his sweat. She doesn’t have to worry about the flash of his camera. 

But. She knows that’s fucked up. 

She knows that Connor and her mom both are addicts. And she knows that she had a gross cold the first week or so after Connor stole her stash and ODed… 

And she doesn’t want to think about what that means. 

And anyway he’s gonna leak the pictures anyway. Zoe’s screwed. No amount of drugs will be able to dull things when her life gets totally flushed. 

Does that school Connor went to take girls? Maybe she can go to boarding school or something. Wait the next two years out. She’ll miss Sabrina but it’s better than Sabrina’s sad looks and pity when the photos come out. 

Zoe paces the living room after school. Connor’s got detention. She’s supposed to tell her dad, warn him more like, and Connor said he’d help but of course  _ he’s not here.  _

“Zoe,” her dad says gently. “Sweetheart whatever it is you can talk to me.”

Zoe wants to laugh. He’s not going to be expecting this. He’s not going to want to even look at her when he finds out what a fucking pathetic whore she is. 

Zoe sinks down at the breakfast bar in the kitchen. Tries to figure out where to start. 

She can’t find the words. 

“Zo. Honey. Whatever it is…”

Zoe finds herself sniffling. She shakes her head. 

Her dad clears his throat. “You’re not pregnant are you?” He jokes almost. 

Zoe’s eyes flood with tears. 

Her dad’s face goes white. “You’re not, are you?” He clears his throat again. A nervous tic. “If you are-”

“I’m not,” she mumbles pathetically. Thank god she got her period again last week. “B-but… uh. S-something has been… been happening? With Jared Kleinman?”

Her dad is quiet. All she can hear is the slight whistle of his one nostril. He broke his nose pledging a fraternity in college and it never healed right. She used to grab it when she was little to try to make it stop. She thought he made the noise on purpose. 

“Zoe… honey. Please tell me what happened. I promise whatever it is, I just want to help you.”

“You’ll hate me.”

Her dad reaches for her hand. “Never, sweetheart. I could never hate you.”

Zoe takes a shuddering breath. “J-Jared… He. We. We slept together.” She’s just crying now. “B-b-but I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to have sex anymore once we started and… Sabrina says that means he… she says. He. That Jared…” It’s so hard to make her mouth work. “Sabrina says that means that Jared raped me.”

Her dad takes in a sharp breath. “Oh Zoe… sweetheart. I am so sorry.”

“And. He… Dad, he took pictures of me. He’s been… trying to blackmail me...”

* * *

Tommy texts Connor that Jared agreed to meet him in the parking lot at 4:00. 

So Connor stashes his car on the other side of the school and waits. 

Zoe’s freaking the fuck out. Jared slipped another picture in her locker today. He’s trying to pressure her into buying more drugs off of him or sleeping with him again or…  _ something _ and Connor is just. 

He’s so pissed. 

Jared Kleinman is a disgusting piece of trash who has hurt two of the people Connor cares most about and he really fucking wants to kill him. 

He’s so fucking pissed he could literally kill Jared. No joke. He’s trying really hard to remind himself that he is not allowed to actually kill Jared.

If he kills Jared he will go to prison. If he kills Jared, he will leave Zoe and Evan alone at this school and his dad will be hurt. 

So Connor can’t kill Jared no matter how much he genuinely, literally wants to. 

Good thing he wasn’t actually a school shooter in the making at the beginning of the year. If he had access to a weapon, Connor’s not sure he could stop himself from actually murdering Jared. 

Fuck that’s dark. 

_ Just take his camera. Bring it to dad, take it right to the cops.  _

He repeats it like a mantra. 

And then it’s time. 

If he gets in trouble, Evan’s going to be so angry. He’ll be so pissed. He’s hanging on by a thread right now because every day that goes by without word from Child Services makes him less hopeful he’ll get to stay with Heidi. And Connor feels helpless because he literally cannot do  _ anything.  _

But Connor  _ has  _ to do  _ this _ . He can do this so he has to. He needs to help Zo because nobody’s helped her nobody’s paid any attention and things are fucking bad and Connor will be damned if he lets Jared Kleinman try to ruin his sister’s life too. He needs to do this because Jared is the reason Evan got into trouble in the first place, Jared is the reason Connor had to fucking transfer schools after freshman year. He’s not going to let him hurt anyone anymore. 

He’s gotta do this. 

He has to. 

Jared has ears everywhere. 

His parents have ins with everyone in this fucking town. 

He has to do this. It’s gotta be this way. 

Connor basically just crouches behind Tommy’s car until he hears Jared’s voice. 

“Well can’t say I’m surprised,” Jared says. “You were never actually gonna give up on the pills, were you?” 

Connor’s an idiot. He didn’t even think that maybe Tommy was trying to pry himself away from Jared too. Fuck. He’s an asshole. 

But he wanted to record the conversation so. 

Tommy agreed to go through the motions of a pickup. He never said he wouldn’t. 

Still Connor feels like a shithead as the tape rolls. 

Tommy coughs a little. Plays his part pretty well all things considered. “Just… how much?”

“Well, you know prices are going up…” Jared says carefully. “Because of all the trouble, thanks to the Murphys running their mouths.” He names his price. 

“Okay.” Tommy coughs again. 

Connor stops recording. 

Emerges from behind Tommy’s car. “Hey Jared,” he says, tone decidedly casual. 

Jared’s face goes pale. “Quitter, what the fuck were you eavesdropping?”

“You’ve got something I want,” Connor says conversationally. 

Jared laughs. “You know I’m not gonna sell to you anymore. Do I look like an amateur?”

Connor ignores him. Doesn’t respond. Tommy says that Jared’s camera is always in his bag, ready to go. Apparently he likes to take embarrassing photos. For protection. Has been doing it for the last year. 

“Actually I want your camera.”

Jared laughs. “The fuck?”

Connor cracks his knuckles. “You wanna do this the hard way or do you just wanna hand it over?”

Jared laughs in his face. “I’m not giving you  _ shit _ . You do brain damage the last time you got high, Quitter? Or did you go without oxygen too long choking on Chino’s dick?” He laughs again. “Thought fags were supposed to be smarter.”

“You’d know wouldn’t you?” Connor asks coldly. “Seeing as your dad’s one.”

Jared’s smirk slips off. “Take that back.”

“No, I don’t think I will,” Connor says. 

Jared is not a terribly smart person, Connor realizes, because he flips Connor off and starts to walk away. He should have realized Connor wasn’t going to let him  _ leave.  _

Connor lunges at Jared. Jared clearly doesn’t expect it and therefore goes down hard when Connor tackles him from behind. 

“What the - get the fuck off of me you psycho-”

Connor grabs the bag from Jared’s back, using his knee to keep Jared pinned to the ground while Jared screams like a lunatic. Yanks it open and pockets Jared’s fucking camera. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Jared shouts, rolling over when Connor lets up and shoves Connor to the side. “Tommy help me ou-”

He doesn’t finish. Connor punches him. Connor feels the cartilage crunch against his hand. Feels his arm explode in pain but then Jared’s glasses go flying and there’s a steady flow of blood coming from his nose.

“What the fuck?” Jared shouts, holding his nose. “Jesus, Quitter, I’ll fucking sell you something fuck. I think you broke my  _ nose _ .”

Connor wonders how many times this kid’s nose has been broken this year. He heard Sabrina got a good punch in a little while ago. 

But then Connor’s tackling him back to the ground and punching him again. 

Again and again, his fists throbbing, arms shaking and he’s gonna kill him he’s gonna fucking  _ kill him.  _ He’s just going to beat him to death he can do it he can  _ kill him  _ he can hurt him for all of the pain and hurt Jared has caused. 

“Dude,” Tommy stage whispers. “Come on, you wanna get yourself in trouble?”

Connor stops. 

It takes effort but he stops. 

Jared’s trying to curl into a ball to protect himself. He’s so fucking pathetic. 

Connor grabs him by the collar and holds his fist out, ready to strike one more time. “You messed with my sister,” Connor growls. “You messed with Evan and with my sister and with me. What the fuck is the matter with you?”

Jared, stupidly, grins. “That what Murph told you?” He drawls, despite the blood flowing from his nose. “Zoe came onto  _ me.  _ She was pretty good, not gonna lie. A little whiny if you ask me but virgins usually are-”

Connor can’t help himself. He punches Jared again and watches as Jared’s mouth runs ruby red and he spits blood on the pavement. He doesn’t know where Jared gets off talking smack when Connor could genuinely  _ kill  _ him. 

Jared’s not smiling now. He looks scared. He’s bleeding a lot. Mewling pathetically and cradling his head. 

“You ever so much as  _ look  _ at my sister again and I’ll kill you,” Connor shouts. “You come near my family or friends again and you’re  _ dead.  _ Am I clear?”

Jared nods frantically. 

Connor drops him to the ground. Clambers off of him. 

He starts going through Jared’s pictures. There’s a ton. Some of girls. On their knees. On beds. Some of guys too. Snorting lines, drinking, smoking. There’s blackmail for every tweaker in this whole damn school. 

Connor finds the photos of Zoe. She’s naked in all of them. 

He feels fucking sick. 

But this is what he came for. 

Jared’s trying to struggle back to his feet. Connor kicks Jared in the side and it lands with a hollow  _ thunk _ . Jared whimpers pathetically. 

Connor looks at him, pathetic and squirming and totally at his mercy. He could kill him. He could kill him with his bare fucking hands. He could. 

He probably  _ should.  _ Wipe him off the fucking planet. 

Connor settles for spitting in Jared’s ugly, bloodied face. 

Then he takes off. 

He hears Tommy play his role perfectly. “Holy shit Jared I had no idea… dude, I think your nose is broken, lemme drive you to the hospital!”

Connor runs. He out and out  _ runs _ back to his car. His hands are shaking but he’s not slowed down. He skids to a stop at his car and then peels out of the parking lot. 

His hands are shaking so hard but Connor cannot slow down or think or do any of those rational reasonable things. 

He’s got a job to do. 

Drives home. 

His dad is sitting at the kitchen bar with Zoe. She’s in tears. Connor knows she was gonna tell their dad today. About Jared. About what he’s done. 

“Connor holy shit,” his dad says, getting to his feet when Connor steps inside. “What the hell happened?”

Connor only just then realizes he’s got bloody knuckles. He’s got blood on his shirt. His hoodie. 

“Jared Kleinman is… he’s. I have  _ proof _ ,” Connor pants. “I have proof of what he was doing.”

“Connor, what the hell?” Zoe shouts, looking angry and scared. “I told you I had it handled. I told you!”

His dad looks lost. “What is going on?”

Connor drops the camera on the counter. “I think you need to call the police.”

His dad looks at Connor, horrified. “I… Connor what did you  _ do? _ ”

* * *

When Evan wakes up from an afternoon nap, Heidi’s just arriving. She’s got a bag with her and she sits at the seat next to his bed and smiles. 

“I figured you might be starting to get a little bored,” she says softly. “So I picked up some books from home for you. And some DVDs you can watch on your laptop.”

Evan thanks her quietly, but privately doesn’t think he’s going to manage reading or watching DVDs. His head is killing him and he feels sick to his stomach. Just genuinely awful. They’ve got the curtains closed and the lights dimmed, but it still feels too bright. 

Everything just feels too much. 

Way too much. 

Part of him knows that sitting around in the dark probably isn't doing wonders for his mood, but it’s kind of what he has to do while he’s recovering. 

He hates this. 

Hates it a lot. 

“What time is it?” he asks Heidi. 

She looks at her watch and tells him. Evan frowns. 

Connor usually comes to the hospital after school. 

Usually comes straight here. 

He’s been here every day since he went back to school. It’s weird that he’s not here. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, Evan hopes he’s okay. 

He probably got detention, he tries to assure himself. That’s probably what’s going on here. Detention from Mrs. Carlson because he’s being a little shit again. 

Then again, Connor had said that Mrs. Carlson had been okay since he’d been back. Had asked after Evan. Told Connor how sorry she was that Evan was injured and wished him a speedy recovery, which seemed to have put an end to the Connor vs. Mrs. Carlson smackdown that’s been going on since the beginning of the school year. 

Fuck. 

Evan hopes he hasn’t gotten into trouble. 

What if Brian and Chad decide to go after Connor? They’d be idiots to do so after getting suspended, but they are idiots. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

Heidi doesn’t say much, just sits in the chair next to Evan’s bed, and holds his hand. Evan kind of drifts in and out of sleep, but wakes up properly when Heidi’s phone rings. 

She answers it after a few rings. 

“Hello? Larry, hi. Slow down. What? He did  _ what? _ ” Evan watches Heidi in alarm as her expression gets more and more horrified. She looks like she might be sick. “Oh my god. No, that’s absolutely… no. That’s not happening. Give me a second, okay, I’m with Evan, I just gotta… I’ll call you right back.”

She ends the call and looks at Evan, her eyes wide. 

Lets out a shaky breath. 

“Connor just got arrested.”

Evan feels like someone just threw him into the deep end of a swimming pool. 

“What? Why?”

Heidi looks right at him, her face pale and white with anger. “He beat the shit out of Jared Kleinman,” she says. “Jared took photos of Zoe and has been blackmailing her.”

Evan thinks he might actually be sick. 

He knows what Heidi’s not saying. Knows what kind of fucking photos these must be, considering what Zoe told him about Jared. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Of course Connor beat the shit out of him, fucking hell. But what good is that going to do? It’s just going to get him in trouble, it’s not going to change anything. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, what the fuck was he thinking? 

That’s so incredibly stupid, what the _ fuck? _

“He took Jared’s camera,” Heidi says, looking a little bit queasy herself. “It’s full of incriminating evidence, he…” She pushes her hair out of her face. Lets out a shaky breath. “This could blow the whole thing wide open. The school’s done nothing about the drug issue after everything we did at the school board meeting.” She picks up her purse. Looks at Evan apologetically. “I need to go,” she says. “I’m going to meet Larry at the station. I’ll be back as soon as I can, alright?” 

“Go,” Evan tells her urgently. All he wants is to get out of this stupid hospital bed and go with her, but he knows he won’t get far. Heidi kisses him on the cheek, promises again to be back soon and takes off, leaving Evan alone with a million questions. 

What the fuck. 

What the  _ fuck.  _

Connor’s been out of the hospital for less than two weeks. He hasn’t even been back at school for a full week, what the fuck. 

Seriously. What the fuck?

Jared Kleinman has photos of Zoe. That’s the creepiest fucking thing he’s ever heard. He should have kicked that guy’s ass when he had the chance. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

Evan thinks he’s going to be sick, thinks he’s actually going to be sick. 

Connor’s going to go down for this. He can feel it in his bones. 

Jared Kleinman’s parents are a big fucking deal in this town, for reasons Evan doesn’t understand, and Connor’s going to go down for this, and Evan’s never going to see him again. 

He’s never going to see him again. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

How could he be so stupid? So stupid and reckless and…

Connor always says that Evan doesn’t have siblings so he doesn’t know. 

Maybe that’s true. Maybe he doesn’t know. 

But that doesn’t mean he’s not terrified and pissed off at how fucking stupid Connor’s being. 

Fuck. 

* * *

It all goes relatively quickly after that. Tommy is supposed to be distracting Jared and driving him around in circles just long enough for Connor to get home. They had agreed on that - though the plan had been for Tommy to say he was taking Jared to report the stolen camera. Connor hadn’t thought it through. Should have known he wouldn’t have been able to resist kicking Jared’s ass. 

Connor hopes the cops get here fast enough. 

His dad seems pissed but he  _ does  _ call the police when Zoe tells him what’s on the camera. 

He’s white as a ghost and he keeps looking at Connor like he’s never seen him before in his life. Right before he dials, he looks at Connor hard. 

“What exactly did you do?”

Connor sighs. He’s still shaking all over. “I punched Jared and took his camera. He’s fine.”

It’s not the truest statement Connor has ever made but he’s pretty sure Jared won’t have any lasting damage. 

His dad takes in the blood on Connor’s shirt and shoes and his busted knuckles. 

“I punched him… a few times. But I swear he’s  _ fine. _ ”

The cops show up relatively quickly. 

They hand over the camera. The cop looks sick as he clicks through the photos. “You say this is Jerry Kleinman’s kid? Who took all these?”

Connor and Zoe confirm. 

“These girls in the photos…” the cop’s partner is a woman. She, it seems, has no allegiance to Jerry Kleinman or his kid. “My god, they’re  _ all _ underage? This is child pornography.”

It goes fast but. 

It doesn’t go  _ well _ , exactly. 

The cops get a call on their radio while they’re in the kitchen with Zoe, Connor, and their dad. Taking Connor’s statement. That he found out about the photos and punched Jared to take his camera. 

“Jared Kleinman just showed up at Memorial hospital with a concussion, two teeth knocked out, and a broken nose. He’s saying Connor here attacked him.”

Connor doesn’t deny it. 

His dad looks livid. 

Okay, so Connor punched him like. A lot. 

He didn’t realize he’d knocked out some of Jared’s teeth. Whatever. His mommy and daddy will pay to have them fixed in no time. 

The cops apologize but considering Jared’s story, they pretty much  _ have _ to arrest Connor for assault. He’s still got Jared’s blood on his hands. Literally.

“This is outrageous,” Larry says to the officers. “You saw why he went after Jared. There’s pictures of his sister on there! He was obviously provoked.”

The cops are pretty apologetic. Connor imagines this is not most people’s experience with the police. Having them apologize for arresting them. Stupidly he thinks about M, about his stories about his dad getting arrested. 

Yeah, this is probably not how this would normally go. 

“Connor Murphy, you're under arrest for assault. You have the right to remain silent…”

Connor’s dad instructs Connor not to say a word until he gets to the precinct. Connor nods. Keeps his mouth shut. 

The handcuffs are tight and cold and Connor keeps his head down as he is led out of the house. 

“Connor fuck this was  _ so stupid, _ ” Zoe cries as they push him into the squad car. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles to his sister. 

All in all, it could be worse, Connor thinks. Jared could still be out there. 

And Connor has proof. 

He’s got fucking proof. 

It’s totally worth it if Jared goes down for this. Totally worth it. 

The arresting officers stick Connor in an interrogation room. Connor knows not to say anything.

He knows but it’s hard when the police chief gets in his face. Apparently Jerry Kleinman is a personal friend. The man starts rattling off all of this stuff about the attack being unprovoked and Jared being a pillar of the community and all of this other bullshit about Connor’s history of being unstable. How the cops know all about Connor’s absences from school and how he’s clearly crazy. 

“So I think,” he says, “you got a little jealous. He’s got all this attention and power and he’s been  _ teasing _ you at school. Calling you gay and whatever kids these days are doing. So you went after him. We don’t even know this is  _ his  _ camera.”

“I’m underage. You can’t ask me anything without a parent or lawyer present,” Connor repeats. It’s all he’ll say. “I won’t speak to you without my lawyer.”

Connor’s shoved into a holding cell for a long time. Hours maybe. He doesn’t know. His hands are  _ still  _ shaking. 

Fuck. Evan’s not gonna love that he got  _ arrested.  _

Connor probably should have thought this through a little bit better. Fuck. 

Probably shouldn’t have done it on school property. 

Maybe he’ll get kicked out. 

Assuming he doesn’t end up in prison. He’s five months shy of eighteen. He’s probably fucked. 

He’s definitely getting expelled. Maybe his dad will at least let him go to Newport Union or Pacific so he doesn’t have to move again. That would blow. 

Oh well. 

Worth it. 

Totally worth it. 

Another officer comes and fetches Connor from holding after a while. “Your lawyer’s here.”

Connor nods. 

He’s led into another interrogation room. 

His dad looks extremely pissed when he sees Connor. Heidi is sitting beside him, looking freaked. “You’re an  _ idiot _ ,” he says. “Going after him like that?”

“He has pictures of Zoe. He was gonna put them online. I couldn’t  _ let  _ him.”

His dad shakes his head wearily. 

Heidi speaks up, “It’s… You’re very lucky they aren’t charging you with a felony.”

“They’re not?” Connor says. He’s shocked. 

He was ready to go down for this. 

“No,” Larry says heavily. “We both know the ADA. You just… blew open a three-year-long drug investigation and provided them with evidence that Jared Kleinman was in possession of child pornography and gave a reason to investigate him for the drugs.”

Connor nods. “Did I mention my phone?”

Heidi and his dad trade looks. 

“I have Jared on tape. Selling to Tommy.”

Heidi almost smiles. “That’s… that’s entrapment.”

Connor shrugs. He’s not a fucking lawyer. 

Heidi looks at Connor carefully, “They’re saying you were provoked… and if you agree to testify that Jared is a drug dealer, that you know he was taking photos, they won’t press charges against you.”

Connor sighs. “What does that mean?”

“You’ll give a statement today, and then you’re free to go.”

Connor can breathe again. Okay. 

“Connor… what the hell were you thinking?” His dad sounds scared. “Bud, I know you love your sister but… You could have gotten hurt or in serious trouble.”

Connor shrugs. 

It was worth it. 

Totally worth it. 

* * *

Connor shows up to the hospital around noon the day after he gets arrested. 

Heidi’s there when he arrives and just looks at him, shaking her head. 

“Does your dad know you’re here?” she asks pointedly. 

Connor nods. Looks at Evan. 

Evan, who is trying very hard not to let his absolute fury show. 

Not with Heidi there, at least. 

“Is it okay if Connor and I have a moment alone?” he asks Heidi. 

Heidi looks at him, then at Connor, then back to Evan. “Okay, sweetie,” she says, and kisses him on the cheek. Before she moves, she whispers in his ear. “Go easy on him.”

Evan is absolutely not going to do that. 

Heidi goes, and Connor takes her seat next to Evan’s bed. 

Looks at Evan, cheeks pink. 

“So I guess you heard what happened.”

Evan bites his lip. Nods. 

Connor smiles awkwardly. “I know you thought that getting arrested was your thing, but-”

“Connor, what the  _ fuck  _ were you thinking?”

Connor’s smile drops. “I was thinking that Jared Kleinman is an asshole who had fucking naked pictures of my sister-”

“Do you have any idea how fucking stupid it was, going after him alone?” Evan practically yells. 

“I wasn’t  _ alone _ ,” Connor tries to argue. “Tommy Whittington had my back.”

What. What the fuck. 

What the  _ fuck  _ has been going on at school while Evan’s been in the hospital?

“I had to explain to Tommy Whittington that polar bears didn’t fight in the Cold War,” Evan snaps. “Tommy’s an idiot. And last I checked, one of the people who tried to get me kicked out of school!”

“He’s an idiot,” Connor agrees, “but he only did it because his sister made him. He felt bad about what happened and wanted to help.” 

“That doesn’t change the fact that you got  _ fucking arrested _ !”

Connor glares at him. “What was I supposed to do, huh? Just let Jared keep blackmailing my sister? Keep terrorizing her, hurting her? After what he did to me and you?”

“You should have waited for me!”

Connor stops. Blinks. Looks at Evan, like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. 

“There is no fucking way I would have let you anywhere near this,” he says after a moment. “Even if you weren’t in the hospital recovering from fucking brain surgery. No way. No way in hell.”

“You can’t just go getting into fights,” Evan pleads. “Not when I’m not there to back you up. Okay?”

“No offense,” says Connor, looking at him assessingly, “but there’s no way you’re in fighting shape right now.”

Evan wants to argue. 

Lies back in his bed and sets his jaw angrily. 

“I could fucking take Jared Kleinman,” he mutters to himself. “Asshole.”

“Not like this you couldn’t,” Connor tells him, almost gently. 

Evan reaches out his hand, trying to take Connor’s. Connor seems to realize what he’s doing and holds on. Evan squeezes his hand tight, then fixes him with a look. “I’m supposed to have your back,” he says bluntly. “I’m supposed to have your back, you fucking  _ idiot. _ You can’t just go running off and getting into fights without me. Okay?”

Connor shakes his head. “You can’t afford to be getting in that kind of trouble-”

“I should have been there.”

Connor squeezes his hand. “Even if you weren’t in the hospital,” he says, something cautious in his voice, “I wouldn’t have let you near this. I wouldn’t have risked you getting in trouble for this. Not when…”

He trails off. 

Doesn’t finish his sentence. 

Evan feels all the fight and anger drain out of him. 

“Not when I might get taken away from Heidi,” he says dully. He slumps against his pillow and looks at the ceiling. Suddenly, he’s exhausted. “Fuck. It’s not… it’s not f-f-f-fair, I should have…” He lets out a shaky breath. “If I was g-g-g-going to ruin my life, it sh-should have been for something that m-m-m-mattered.” He swallows hard. “I should have been there for you. And f-for Zoe. You sh-shouldn’t have had to do that alone.”

Connor squeezes his hand. 

Evan squeezes back. Sighs. 

And then Connor’s climbing into bed next to him, carefully wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close. 

They lie there for a while. 

Evan doesn’t want to leave. 

He doesn’t want to leave Heidi. He doesn’t want to leave Connor. 

He doesn’t want to leave at all.

It seems unfathomably cruel to be given an opportunity like this, to have the promise of a normal life dangled in front of him, then to have it all be taken away. 

Because of his own stupidity. 

Why is he always so fucking stupid?

Connor kisses the side of his head. Holds him tight. 

“You can go back to yelling at me if you want.”

Evan chokes out a laugh. “You’re so fucking stupid.”

“Yup.”

“That was… so  _ dumb _ , Connor, you got  _ arrested _ .”

“I did.”

“You’re such an idiot, oh my god.” Evan kisses him gently. “A stupid, brave, beautiful idiot.”

Connor looks at him. “You think I’m beautiful?”

Evan feels his cheeks go pink. “Is that… I mean, I don’t know if you’re allowed to call guys beautiful, I-”

“It’s okay,” Connor interrupts, and he’s gone a little pink as well. 

Evan closes his eyes. Lets Connor pull him closer. 

Breathes him in. 

This could be one of the last times he gets this. 

He should have figured it out sooner. He should have known sooner. 

Now that he knows he might be leaving, he could kick himself for wasting so much time. 

“Jared totally deserved to be punched, though,” Connor says after a moment. “Can we both agree on that?”

Evan kisses him. “Of course we can.” 

* * *

Connor is suspended for three days. He  _ knows  _ he’s getting off too easy but honestly missing some school is sort of a blessing because it means he gets to see more of Evan. 

Evan’s kind of pissed at Connor but probably not as mad as he could be. 

Connor hasn’t really seen Zoe since he got arrested. His dad said he dropped her at Sabrina’s last night while he and Heidi worked to get Connor released from holding. 

And Zoe went to school with Sabrina this morning so Connor didn’t even see her when he went in to get official notice of his suspension. 

So Connor makes sure to be home after school lets out so he can talk to her. Sabrina walks in holding Zoe’s hand tightly in hers and then looks at her carefully when Connor asks if they can talk. 

“Fine,” Zoe says stonily. “Sabrina you can go up to my room.”

Sabrina kisses Zoe’s cheek and when she walks past Connor she mouths “thank you” at him. 

Connor swallows awkwardly. Zoe looks… upset. Like she’s been crying. 

“Everyone at school knows you kicked Jared’s ass.”

Connor nods awkwardly. 

“He’s been expelled. I guess. And arrested apparently.”

“Shit,” Connor says. “Are you okay?”

Zoe sinks into the sofa, her face in her hands. She pulls her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around them, chin resting on top of her knees. Connor sits on the other edge of the sofa. 

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” Zoe says. 

“I know,” Connor says quietly. 

“I told dad. I had it handled.”

Connor frowns a little. “I just… that motherfucker keeps hurting people I love. I couldn’t take it anymore.”

Zoe sighs. “I… I know you just like. Majorly saved my ass? But I’m kinda. Mad.”

Connor nods. “You can be mad at me.”

“I didn’t ask you to do this,” Zoe says, sounding small. “And I… what if he’d hurt you?”

“That dude is a wimp, he wasn’t gonna hurt me.”

“He… he has dirt on everyone, Connor. He could have gotten you into a lot of trouble. What if he hadn’t had his camera?”

Connor shrugs. He hadn’t thought of that. “But he did.” 

Zoe frowns. 

“But… you’re right. I didn’t think about it very carefully. And I’m sorry okay?”

Zoe nods sadly. Then she sighs. “At least I won’t have to see him again.”

Connor nods. 

She blinks a few times. “Thanks for. Uh. Looking out for me… I know I didn’t. Really like. Deserve it. After this year.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Connor says. “You’re my sister. You don’t stop being my sister just because you’re being an asshole sometimes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "I'm Not Okay" by My Chemical Romance.


	56. I'd Walk Through Hell For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A decision is made, and life begins to make its way back to normal.

Larry gets a call from Heidi in the middle of the workday. He answers immediately, fearing the worst. “What’s going on?”

Heidi’s voice is shaking. “They canceled the hearing.”

Larry’s heart drops. “What? I thought it was tomorrow?”

“It was,” Heidi says, her voice strangled. “It was. But Janet - that’s Evan’s social worker - she called me just now and says that the judge has canceled the hearing.”

“It could be good news,” Larry ventures. “Sometimes custody hearings are canceled when the judge has decided that the placement works.”

“She… she didn’t sound optimistic,” Heidi says. She sounds like she’s in tears. 

“You can’t give up now,” Larry says, his voice firm. “You can’t. Not yet. You… who is the judge? I can call him I can-”

“Oh enough,” Heidi says. “I… this is the end of the road. It’s over. They’re going to take him away. Who’s going to look out for him? What if they hurt him?”

“Heidi-”

“I have to go,” she says shortly. “I have to… I have to figure out what I’m going to tell him. I have…”

“Heidi,” Larry says. “I will think of something…”

“I have to go,” she says. 

Hangs up. 

Larry sits there, reeling. 

What is he going to tell  _ Connor?  _ He’s going to be crushed. He’s going to be devastated. It might kill him. 

Larry swallows hard. 

It’s not fair. 

It’s not fair to do this to these poor kids. They don’t deserve this shit. 

Larry picks up his phone. After a few calls he gets the name of the judge who was supposed to see Evan’s case. 

Larry gets in his car and drives to the courthouse. He knows the judge. He’s golfed with Judge Noah Cohen before. He’s normally a fair and level headed guy. 

Larry’s going to talk to some fucking sense into him. Bribe him if he has to. 

“Larry!” Judge Cohen says with a big smile. “To what do I owe the pleasure? I haven’t seen you in my courtroom in a while.”

Larry doesn’t smile. “You mostly handle family court cases these days.”

Judge Cohen nods. “Ah. So this is what you’re here about.” He puts aside some papers on his desk. “I know you and Heidi Herzberg have been friends for a long time. We always saw her and David at the Fourth of July barbecue.”

“How can you take that kid away from her?” Larry demands. “How can you think that’s a good idea. You’ve seen his file, sure, but do you know his father’s an abusive alcoholic? That he was in five foster homes in less than three years? That it took child services that entire time to track his father down?”

“I know all of this,” Judge Cohen says. 

“He’s a straight A student. And he’s never in trouble in school.”

“He got into two physical altercations since starting at Harbor,” Judge Cohen says. “He put a boy in the hospital.”

“He was up against two kids who are twice his size!” Larry thunders. “And the first fight? He was trying to defend my son. You have to have heard how bad the bullying at Harbor has been.”

“Oh trust me, Celeste Beck has more than filled me in,” Judge Cohen says. “I’ve seen plenty.”

“Evan has a history of mental illness. His mother killed herself and he put himself in the hospital provoking his father. On purpose. He’s suicidal. He needs someone who will actually take care of him. Get him the help he needs. You know he won’t get it in a group home or some random foster placement.”

“He’s your son’s best friend,” Judge Cohen says. “And your best friend’s son.”

“Exactly. How can you take her kid away?” Larry asks. “How can you possibly think putting him back in the system is the safer choice-”

Judge Cohen holds his hands up. “Larry. My god, no. I didn’t cancel the hearing because I’m  _ revoking _ custody. I canceled because I’ve already granted it. Permanent custody. She’ll need to wait a few months before beginning the adoption process because of the concerns for Evan’s health and recovery but… Larry no. I’m  _ granting  _ her full, permanent custody of Evan Hansen.”

Larry feels about a thousand times lighter. “You are?”

“This is entirely off the record. Janet will still need to sign off on all of the paperwork but… yes. I’m not a fool Larry. That boy needs a strong mother and Herzberg has certainly proven herself to be one.”

Larry is gobsmacked. “Why didn’t you tell me that right away? I came in here ready to shake you down.”

Judge Cohen chuckles a little. “I’m an old man, Larry. I need to get my laughs in somewhere.”

Larry shakes his head. “When is she going to know?”

Judge Cohen smiles. “Should be before the end of the day.”

* * *

Connor spends all three days of his suspension at the hospital. Evan has a suspicion that not having to go to school isn’t exactly a punishment, but he’s glad to see him. Glad to have him here, have him close. He spends a lot of time in Evan’s bed, just hanging onto him, which helps Evan feel less panicked. 

Less sure that everything’s about to come crashing down around him. 

Heidi gets a phone call in the middle of the day, which she leaves the room to take. She doesn’t come back for nearly an hour. 

When she does come back, she looks completely drained. Exhausted. Her eyes are red, like she’s been crying. 

Connor looks at her, then at Evan, and his face falls. 

Neither of them seem to have the courage to ask what’s wrong and Heidi doesn’t offer any explanation. She smiles weakly and offers them both some blueberries. 

Evan feels cold, all the way through him. 

She’s got bad news. 

It’s bad news, she…

“You look tired,” Heidi says softly. “Why don’t you try to get some more sleep, sweetheart?”

Evan doesn’t think he can, but he closes his eyes. 

When he next opens them, his social worker is walking into the room. She looks exhausted but she’s smiling. Evan doesn’t know what to make of it. 

The social worker looks at Connor, who’s still in bed next to Evan. “Would you mind giving us a minute?” she asks, her tone polite. 

“Can he stay?” Evan asks, before Connor can say anything. “He… I trust him.” 

The social worker frowns for a moment, then nods. Pulls up a chair next to Heidi. 

Steadies her shoulders. 

“As you know,” she says evenly, “the judge has reviewed your case and canceled the hearing. I’m sorry it’s taken so long to let you know what’s happening.” She smiles. “Paperwork.”

The hearing was canceled? 

Evan hadn’t known that. It would explain why Heidi was upset earlier. 

There’s this horrible foreboding feeling in his stomach. 

This is it. 

“What’s going on?” Heidi asks, her voice urgent and scared. 

The social worker smiles. “The judge came to the conclusion that what’s best for Evan is that he remains in your care. Permanently.”

The foreboding feeling disappears. 

Evan feels… almost weightless. 

Like this huge burden has been lifted off him and he could just float away. 

He gets to stay. 

He gets to  _ stay. _

Connor’s eyes are wide and he’s got this huge smile on his face, and Evan doesn’t have time to say anything before Connor’s kissing him, kissing him like he means it, right in front of Heidi and his social worker. 

Evan doesn’t have it in him to be embarrassed. 

He just kisses Connor right back. 

He gets to stay. 

He gets to  _ stay.  _

“We’ll still be monitoring your situation carefully,” the social worker continues once Evan and Connor break apart, this soft smile on her face. She looks at Heidi. “This will push back your plans for adoption, I’m afraid, but it doesn’t take it off the table. It just might take a little longer.”

Connor stills. Looks at Heidi. “Adoption?”

Heidi smiles this big wide smile. There are tears in her eyes and she looks right at Evan. “If Evan’s okay with it, once we get the all-clear from Child Services, I want to make it official. I want to adopt him.” 

“I’m okay with it,” Evan says immediately. He feels like he’s going to cry. “I… I really want that, I…”

Connor pulls him in close. Kisses the side of his head. “You’re staying,” he says, grinning widely. “You’re staying.”

Evan nods. “I’m staying.”

The social worker talks with Heidi a little longer, going over plans for when Evan leaves the hospital. It’s nothing Evan hasn’t heard before, except now it actually means something because it’s actually real. 

He’s actually going back home with Heidi. 

He’s actually staying. 

He…

He was so sure this wouldn’t work out. So sure he’d be stuck, so sure he wouldn’t get to keep this. He’d pretty much already given up. 

Fuck. 

When the social worker finally leaves, Connor helps Evan sit up on the edge of the bed so he can hug Heidi properly. Heidi pulls him into a tight hug and doesn’t let go for what feels like a very long time. 

For the first time in weeks, Evan feels safe. 

Like things might be okay. 

Heidi’s smiling so wide when she pulls away. She holds Evan’s hands and just beams at him. “I get to take you home,” she says, sounding completely amazed. “We did it, you’re staying.”

“I’m staying,” Evan repeats softly. He squeezes Heidi’s hand. Swallows hard. “And I… I think I need to talk to someone? I think…”

Heidi’s face softens. Connor puts his arm around Evan, rubbing his back, silently encouraging him to continue. 

Evan takes a deep breath. 

“I need to talk to someone,” he says, a bit more confidently now. “If I…” He looks at Connor, then at Heidi. “I d-don’t think I’m okay, but I really want to be. I want… I want to be okay, and I d-don’t know if I can do that on my own, s-so… I sh-should talk to a… a therapist or something.”

Heidi’s eyes fill with tears. She nods. “Of course, sweetheart,” she says softly. She smiles. “I know that wasn’t easy for you to say. I’m really proud of you.” She squeezes his hand. “I have a list of suggestions from the doctors of people who might be able to help, and I’ve done some research.”

Evan feels himself tense. That seems… overwhelming right now. He has no fucking idea about therapists, he has no idea how you’d choose a therapist, how does that even work it’s just too much-

“I’ll have a look,” Heidi says gently, nudging him out of his spiral. “We can talk about it later. And if it’s too much, I can pick someone I think might work for you. Okay? What matters is that you’re willing to talk to someone. That’s a really big step for you.” 

Evan still doesn’t know how he’s going to talk to someone. 

How he’s going to put the whole horrible mess into words. 

How he’s going to untangle it all, make sense of everything that’s happened. The whirlwind of the last year, the years with his dad, what happened to his mom…

But he has a feeling that if he doesn’t, it’s going to bite him in the ass. 

It’ll just… fester and rot and he’ll just…

Disappear. 

For so long, that was all he wanted. To disappear. 

Part of him still wants that. 

But he wants not to want it. 

He wants to want to be here. 

He wants to be with the people he cares about, to be here with Heidi and Connor. 

And that’s a start. 

It might even be a good one.

* * *

Connor feels like… so fucking relieved. Like he can’t even put into words how relieved he is to hear that Evan gets to stay with Heidi. How good it feels not to have that weighing on them, hanging over them like a threat. 

And apparently Heidi wants to adopt Evan? Like…. Keep him forever? 

Connor hadn’t known but he is so beyond thrilled. Evan deserves a good mom like Heidi who will fight for him and keep him safe. And Heidi deserves a loving and caring and perfect kid like Evan. 

Connor is a little bit embarrassed that he kissed Evan in front of his social worker today. That was probably a bit obnoxious. He just couldn’t help it. He either kissed Evan or he started like uncontrollably sobbing. 

Making out in front of a social worker is sort of a power move though, Connor supposes. It’s pretty punk rock. 

Evan gets to stay. 

Connor can hardly believe it. 

But honestly the thing that has got him far more choked up is that Evan said he thought he needed to talk to someone. Connor’s been worried out of his mind. He’s been terrified that Evan was just not going to make it, even with Heidi. He seems… so dangerously close to the edge. Like he doesn’t even realize how close he is to falling. 

Connor knows that feeling all too well. 

You don’t accidentally-on-purpose take a lethal dose of oxycontin unless you know how it felt to dance on the edge of tipping over into total suicidality. Connor knows that. He’s done enough of that for a lifetime. 

So Evan getting to stay? It’s… god he’s so relieved. He’s so grateful. 

But Evan asking for help?

Connor thinks his heart has grown like the Grinch, three sizes in one day. He wants help. He asked for help. Connor’s obviously still terrified about how that will go and whether or not it would hurt Evan, but in this moment, he’s just absolutely overwhelmed because Evan asked for fucking help when he needed it. 

Heidi decides they absolutely need milkshakes to celebrate. Connor suspects it’s because she needs a few minutes to cry. Connor totally understands that. He keeps randomly tearing up. Looking at Evan and smiling stupidly and just  _ having to  _ kiss him. Like. It’s not even an option. 

Heidi kisses Evan in the cheeks genuinely seven times and hugs him tightly before she goes. 

Connor looks at Evan and smiles when she goes. He kisses him. “You’re staying.”

Evan nods. His eyes are glassy. “I get to stay.”

“Heidi’s gonna adopt you,” Connor says. 

Evan nods tearfully. “I… yeah.” He wipes his eyes. “I didn’t think… that I’d get that again?”

“Get what?” Connor says. 

“A mom? Like… someone who loves me?”

Connor feels his heart squeeze. “Of course she loves you. You are… extremely easy to love.”

Evan blushes. Wipes his eyes. 

Connor places his hand gently on the side of Evan’s face. “Hey,” he says softly. “I’m really proud of you.”

Evan looks surprised. “I didn’t do anything?”

“Yes you did,” Connor says. “You told Heidi you think you need therapy. You asked her for help. And I know how scary that was for you. And I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Evan kisses him. And it’s the best thing ever. Because he’s not leaving. He’s staying right here. 

* * *

Knowing that she can take Evan home makes the rest of his stay in hospital easier. 

Makes her a whole lot less afraid. 

It seems to light a fire under Evan as well. He’s lighter. Happier. 

Keeps saying about how he’s excited to go home. 

Nearly a month after he first arrives in hospital, the doctors give Evan the all-clear and tell him that he can go home the next morning. 

Heidi’s never been more relieved. 

On the day Evan gets to go home, to no one’s surprise, Connor shows up at the hospital, despite the fact that he’s supposed to be at school. Heidi sighs immediately when she sees him. 

She grabs her phone and texts Larry to let him know Connor’s here. Larry seems to have more or less given up on forcing Connor to go to school. He just wants to know where he is and that he’s safe. 

After everything, Heidi thinks that’s fair enough. 

“You’re supposed to be at school,” Evan says, standing up from where he’s sitting on the edge of the bed.

“You’re supposed to be sitting down,” Connor counters. Instead of replying, Evan just kisses him, a huge smile on his face. 

Heidi likes that Evan feels comfortable enough with Connor to kiss him in front of her. In front of Connor’s family as well. That he doesn’t seem to be ashamed of how he feels about Connor. 

She thinks that’s important. That it means something. 

At the very least, it’s a good sign. 

Evan and Connor talk quietly, and Heidi double-checks to make sure they’ve got everything packed up. After nearly a month in the hospital, they’ve ended up with more stuff than expected, but she’d taken most things home the night before when she’d gone home to get some sleep. 

She’s looking forward to not having to leave him here at night anymore. The hospital has been pretty understanding overall but recently they’ve been putting their foot down. She hates leaving him here at night alone. Hates leaving him ever. 

Heidi looks over at Evan as he sits on the edge of the bed, holding Connor’s hand and smiling. He looks so much better than he did. So much. He’s still a little bruised, still moving a little stiffly, but for someone who nearly died a month ago, he’s bouncing back amazingly well. 

The biggest thing to worry about at the moment is the headaches. Heidi worries he’s downplaying them. Worries he’s not letting on how bad he feels because he doesn’t want to worry people. When they’re bad, they’re really bad and he’s in so much pain, but he doesn’t like taking the pain medication because it always kind of makes him a little out of it. Makes him a little loopy. 

She completely understands where he’s coming from, not wanting to be vulnerable like that, but the headaches are so debilitating in and of themselves that honestly, he’s better off just taking the pain relief. 

Hopefully she won’t have to fight him on it too much once she gets him home. 

She hates the idea of him in pain. 

The doctor shows up to check him out. Takes his vitals, has a good look at him then goes through the discharge paperwork. Heidi handles it because Evan’s struggling to concentrate on anything written right now, which she knows upsets him because of how much he likes to read. 

It’s all a little anticlimactic, in the end. 

She gets to take Evan home. 

Child services want to check in on them, sure, but they’ve agreed to let Evan stay with her. In a couple of months time, if things are still going well, Evan’s social worker says that the possibility of Heidi adopting Evan is back on the table. 

She’s going to do everything she can to keep this kid safe and happy. Everything she possibly can. 

Evan and Connor both sit in the backseat of the car. Evan seems uncomfortable, like he’s in pain, and Connor has his arm around him protectively, holding him close. Connor has this haunted look on his face the whole drive and Heidi realizes with dismay what happened the last time the two of them were in the backseat of a car together. 

It breaks her heart. 

Connor helps Evan out of the car. Walks him to the pool house, where he’ll be staying while he recovers. Heidi thinks it’ll be good for him. It’ll stop him from having to navigate the stairs, while at the same time giving him a space that’s not just his bedroom. He’ll be in bed a lot of the time at first because his body still needs a lot of rest, but there’s a couch and a proper living space and he’ll have some variety. Won’t have to just stay in bed all the time. 

Evan’s exhausted by the time they get him into the pool house. Heidi can tell. His limbs are shaking and he’s pale and the whole process seems to have been tiring, but he insists on sitting at the table for a while rather than going straight to bed. 

Which is fair enough, she supposes. He’s spent a lot of time in bed. 

Heidi remembers something. Reaches into her pocket. “I have something for you, Connor.”

She hands him a key ring with 2 keys on it. Connor looks at it, a little bewildered. 

“This one’s for the pool house,” she says, pointing to the larger of the two. “And this one’s for the side door to the main house. I figured it’s better to just give you your own set so I don’t have to worry about leaving things unlocked.”

Connor just stares at the keys for a moment. “Seriously?”

“I’ve known you your entire life,” Heidi points out with a laugh. “I know how stubborn you are. If I don’t give you keys of your own, you’ll just learn to pick a lock or something. Thought I’d save you the time.”

Connor’s cheeks go pink. Evan squeezes his hand, then leans his head on his shoulder. 

“Thank you,” Connor says quietly. He puts the keys in his pocket. 

“I just need to go check in with Rosa,” Heidi tells them with a smile. “I'll be back soon with some lunch, okay?” She looks at Connor. “For both of you.”

Connor looks a little uneasy, but he nods. Smiles.

Heidi heads back to the main house, closing the pool house door behind her. 

She’s just so glad Evan’s home. 

* * *

Connor gives Evan a hard look the moment Heidi leaves. “You should be in bed.”

Evan gives him a look in return. “I’ve been in bed for a  _ month. _ ”

_ Yeah well, whose fault is that?  _

Connor doesn’t say it though. 

He knows that’s not gonna be helpful. Instead he chews his lip. 

He doesn’t really like being back here. It feels a bit like the scene of a crime. 

He didn’t like being in his bedroom when he first got home either. Last time he didn’t care as much but this time he ended up pacing the room all night, weirdly afraid that somehow he’d end up passed out on the floor again, unable to breathe or keep his eyes open. 

Which was also stupid because he had  _ wanted  _ to… 

Whatever. It’s fine. This is fine. 

Evan should be in bed. 

They both know it. 

“Besides… Heidi’s bringing us food,” Evan says plainly. 

Yeah, and Connor’s freaking out about that too. He hadn’t thought this through. If he had he would have waited until after lunch. 

Oh except now Zoe’s been sitting with them at lunch and Connor sort of feels like she’s spying for his dad. He didn’t finish his sandwich yesterday and his dad talked to him about it for like. An embarrassingly long time. 

He’d ended up texting Laura to complain. She came back with a text saying that  _ her  _ mom tried to make her eat  _ ice cream  _ the night before because she just didn’t get it. Connor feels for her. That’s gotta be hard. 

Evan’s looking at him, Connor realizes, and he’s just been spacing out and worrying about food again. He’s so sick of thinking about food. Food is fucking stupid. 

“What?” Connor says stupidly. 

Evan gives him a smile. “Are you okay?”

Connor nods immediately. He’s  _ fine.  _ He’s gotta get it together. He can’t just be freaking out all the time. There’s too much to do. 

“Are  _ you _ okay?” He counters. “How do you feel about being back here?”

Evan smiles a little. “I’m glad to be home,” he says. 

That’s… not what Connor means. 

He means  _ how does it feel to return to the place you decided to kill yourself? _

He means  _ how does it feel being in the place where we hooked up again?  _

He means  _ are you just going to get better and bail again?  _

Evan frowns a little. “I mean. I’m kinda bummed I’m not l-like in my room?”

Connor nods. 

“But Heidi’s right. The stairs would pr-probably be a lot to do all the time.”

Connor nods again. “Yeah. Makes sense.”

Evan’s frowning at Connor. “What’s going on?” He says anxiously. 

Connor shakes his head. “Nothing.”

“I’m sure H-Heidi’s not gonna come back with, like, something h-huge for lunch?”

“I’m not… it’ll be okay. I’m not worried about that,” Connor lies. “I’m okay. Just. Tired. But I’m really glad you’re home.”

Evan smiles at him. “Me too. I really am.”

Connor tries to grin back properly. 

And then Evan blinks at him a couple of times. Laughs a little. “I just. R-realized we’re like. Alone.”

Connor feels like his head is going to blow clean off his shoulders.  _ What the fuck?  _

“Just. We haven’t really been s-s-since…”

“Yeah,” Connor says. He’s still not like. Following. If Evan thinks he’s gonna hook up with him right now then he  _ definitely  _ has brain damage because Connor will almost certainly never be able to do that in this room again. 

Evan leans in and kisses him. It’s a good kiss. Really nice. Evan’s a really spectacular kisser, and Connor knows he hasn’t like spent a lot of time kissing people so it must be like raw kissing talent. The only other person Evan’s kissed is Connor’s sister. That’s weird. He should not be thinking about that when he’s kissing Evan. Evan does this thing where he gently bites Connor’s lower lip and then Connor forgets he even  _ has  _ a sister because he’s kind of losing his mind.

“Hi,” Evan says shyly when he pulls away. 

“Hi,” Connor says back. He suddenly feels shy too. 

“I uh. I’m glad y-you have keys?” Evan says, his cheeks a light pink. 

Connor smiles at him, a little sheepish. “I uh. Already know how to pick locks.”

“You do?” Evan says with a smile. 

Connor nods. “You lock yourself out of your dorm room enough times, you get resourceful.”

Evan smiles. “I know h-how to pick locks too.”

“Yeah?” Connor says. 

“You m-might recall that I am a juvenile delinquent,” Evan says with a grin. 

Connor rolls his eyes. “Yeah, but not in a fucking  _ Dickens  _ novel.”

“I learned a couple of things from Ethan.” 

“Anything actually useful?” Connor returns. 

“Yeah,” Evan says with a painful-looking smile. “Stay the fuck away from Ethan.”

Connor nods. “Heidi says he’s still in jail?”

Evan says, “Yeah.” And then Evan looks at Connor with this very strange expression on his face. “So is my dad.”

_ Good,  _ Connor thinks. He’s pretty sure California still has the death penalty. He thinks they should fucking use it. 

“Zoe said… when you found me,” Evan says slowly. Like he’s testing the waters. 

Connor can’t look at him. 

“You uh. Talked to my dad?” 

Connor blinks a couple of times. He doesn’t know how to answer that. He definitely did not  _ talk  _ to Mark Ogonowski. Screamed at him. Might have broken his fingers. Definitely punched him. 

Serves him right. 

“We didn’t do much talking.”

Evan pulls a little at the back of Connor’s neck. Forces Connor to look at him. “Did he… h-he didn’t h-h-hurt you? Right?”

Connor nods. Then shakes his head. He doesn’t understand the question. “No. He didn’t hurt me.”

_ I hurt him.  _

_ I wanted to kill him.  _

_ I  _ should _ have killed him.  _

“What happened?” Evan asks, his eyes pleading. 

“I uh. Asked him where you were.”

Evan narrows his eyes slightly. He’s still got the faintest bruise around his eye. “Please don’t lie to me.”

Connor wants so badly to look away. But he can’t. He  _ can’t.  _

“Are you mad?” Connor asks stupidly. 

“Am I mad?” Evan repeats. He looks disbelieving. “I’m… furious.”

Oh. 

Well. 

That sucks. 

“Connor that was… s-so stupid.” Evan pulls him closer. He rests his forehead against Connor’s. Connor can feel him shaking and he puts his hands on Evan’s waist to help keep him steady. “I t-t-told you he was… you knew h-he’s…”

“I had to find you,” Connor whispers. He can’t explain any better. He just didn’t  _ care  _ about the risk. He had to find Evan. And he did. He found him. So it was worth it. 

“He could have  _ killed  _ you,” Evan says. His eyes are glassy. “What would I have done if something happened to you?”

_ Died.  _

_ You would have died.  _

_ Because he beat you and left you for dead and if I hadn’t gone there nobody would have gotten to you in time.  _

Connor pulls away. “You don’t get to do that.”

“Do what?” Evan whispers. 

“You don’t get to say that when you… you almost  _ let  _ him kill you,” Connor says angrily. A tear escapes, hot and angry and shameful, practically burning his cheek on its way down. “So you don’t get to tell me how  _ stupid  _ it was okay? I knew it was stupid. But I didn’t. I don’t care. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Okay?”

“Connor,” Evan says. 

“No, okay, you don’t get to say that because… because what about me? Huh? What about what it would have done to  _ me  _ if you had died and I did nothing?”

“It wasn’t…  _ Connor _ it wasn’t  _ you. _ ”

“How am I supposed to believe you?” Connor says softly. “You left right after we… you  _ left  _ and…” he shakes his head.

“It wasn’t you,” Evan says again. Stubbornly. “I th-thought I’d r-ruined everything. I was trying to-”

“I swear to god Evan if you tell me you were trying to protect me one more time, I’m going to…”  _ Punch you. Break something. Crash my car into a pole.  _ “You weren’t protecting me okay? That wasn’t  _ protecting  _ me. I know you think that it was but… if that’s your idea of protecting someone please never protect anyone again because it is  _ horrible. _ ”

Evan looks appropriately ashamed of himself. 

Connor wipes his eyes. 

“You need to be in bed,” he says then. “Come on.”

“But…” Evan closes his mouth. Opens it again. Can’t seem to find words. 

“You wanna argue with me? Fine. Argue with me from the bed.” 

Evan hangs his head slightly. 

But he lets Connor help him up out of the chair and doesn’t protest when Connor puts his arm around Evan’s waist and guides him to the big bed. He pulls the covers back and helps Evan get his sneakers off. 

Evan looks small and sad in the bed. “Are you gonna leave?” He asks quietly. 

“No,” Connor says. He knows how pissed off he sounds. He kicks his Chucks off aggressively. “I’m staying.”

He crawls into the bed beside Evan. Tries not to think about what happened last time they were here. 

If he does he will  _ lose it.  _

He pulls Evan into a hug. Not too tight. His ribs are still healing. Evan fists the back of Connor’s shirt and pulls him in tighter. 

“I’m s-sorry. Okay? I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” Connor says. He’s breathing again. Breathing normally. “You should. Try to. Relax or whatever. Until Heidi comes back with food.”

“Okay.” Evan doesn’t let go of him. 

“Evan. Come on,” Connor says. 

“I can relax like this.”

Connor almost growls with frustration. This kid is the  _ most stubborn person.  _ He adjusts his grip until Evan’s resting against his chest. Evan grabs onto Connor’s shirtfront tightly. Clinging on for dear life. “Don’t go. Don’t. Please?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Connor says. He kisses the top of Evan’s head. “I’m not leaving okay? I won’t leave.”

“Okay.” His grip loosens ever so slightly. 

He relaxes against Connor. 

Connor rubs his hand gently up and down Evan’s back. Traces the curve of his spine. 

Is it weird to love someone’s spine? Maybe. But Connor does. He loves Evan’s spine. He loves the way it bends. How it keeps his head attached to the rest of him. How it connects all of the nerves and bones and muscles that make Evan exist the way he does. 

He loves him. All of him. Every cell. Every molecule and atom. 

Evan sighs. “You always smell good,” he says quietly. “I never said…”

“Thank you?” Connor replies, almost amused. “I uh. Showered?”

“Good. Keep… keep doing that.” Evan sighs. “Showering… is good.”

Connor laughs a little. “You’re thinking about me naked,” he teases. 

The back of Evan’s neck goes red. “Shut up.”

“Oh my god,  _ are _ you? Really?” Connor says. 

“Well now I am,” Evan mutters. 

Connor laughs some more. 

He loves Evan so fucking much. 

They don’t manage to stay awake until lunch. 

They wake when Heidi gently touches Evan’s shoulder and says they need to eat but then they can both go back to sleep. 

* * *

Zoe and Sabrina are in her bedroom. Kissing. They’re kissing and it’s really fucking nice to be able to kiss Sabrina again. She’s so good at it. So damn good. 

And it’s nice to be able to kiss her without being terrified that someone might see them. It’s really nice to be able to kiss Sabrina and not be scared of what it means. To be able to kiss her and feel safe. 

She feels like. Really fucking safe. 

Zoe kisses Sabrina’s neck and Sabrina lets out this cute little breathy noise that Zoe really loves. She’s missed her so so much. All of her. Her hair and her mouth and her lips and just. Her. 

She’s missed everything about her. 

And then she’s pushing Sabrina’s shirt up. 

“Zoe,” Sabrina says, catching her hands. 

“What?”

“Are you… sure you wanna be doing that?” Sabrina says, her voice serious. 

Zoe feels her face flush with embarrassment. Of course. Sabrina thinks she’s… gross. All damaged. 

“Hey hey,” Sabrina says. “What’s going on?”

“You don’t want me anymore,” Zoe says. She feels like crying. “You think I’m… gross and used and…”

“I don’t. At all,” Sabrina says. “I just. Wanna make sure you’re like. Okay? After what happened with Jared… I don’t wanna take stuff too far.”

“I… I still want to have sex,” Zoe says feeling ashamed and stupid. Maybe she shouldn’t want sex anymore. Maybe she’s super fucked up for even thinking about it. 

“Okay,” Sabrina says. She pulls a face like she’s thinking. “I just wanted to make sure. Can I take off your shirt?”

Zoe makes a face at her. “Not if it’s gonna be all weird… you don’t need to be all careful with me now.”

Sabrina looks almost hurt. “Of course I do. You’re… so important Zoe. And I wanna make you feel amazing. But also I want to make sure you’re okay. And we… kinda sucked at checking in before. So. Can I take off your shirt?”

Zoe nods. 

Sabrina pulls her top off. Leans in and kisses Zoe, holding her face possessively. Then she looks Zoe dead in the eye. “Can I take off mine?”

“Please,” says Zoe. “And your pants. I wanna touch you.”

Sabrina complies. Pulls her t-shirt up over her head. Shimmies out of her jeans. She’s got on this pair of white lace panties that always make Zoe feel a little dizzy. 

They kiss more. 

Zoe takes her pants off. 

They lose their bras and touch each other. Sabrina is so pretty. Zoe loves how soft her body is. She makes sure to ask before she touches her but then she touches Sabrina everywhere. Her neck. Her nose. Her strong shoulders and muscular arms. Her soft, slightly round tummy. She kisses her all over. Sabrina breathes heavily. 

“I wanna…” Zoe says. She gently tugs at the waist of Sabrina’s panties. 

“Okay. Are you sure?”

Zoe nods frantically. 

And they pull Sabrina’s underwear off together. Down her smooth legs. 

She tastes the same. Zoe loves how she tastes. She can’t get enough of it. Sabrina must be pent up because it doesn’t take too long before she’s grabbing hard onto Zoe’s hair and saying her name over and over and over. 

When she’s positive Sabrina is satisfied, Zoe kisses her way back up to Sabrina’s mouth. 

“You want me to touch you?” Sabrina asks. Her voice is low and pretty and she kisses Zoe’s neck. 

Zoe nods. 

Sabrina pulls off her underwear and Zoe shivers. 

“Wait,” she says suddenly. 

Sabrina immediately stops. “What do you need?”

“Can you… not your fingers?” Zoe says. “I’m not sure… I dunno if I can…”

“Of course,” Sabrina says. “Is my mouth okay?”

Zoe nods. 

“Okay,” Sabrina says. And then she kisses her. 

And it’s perfect. 

It’s absolutely perfect. Gentle and slow and perfect. 

So perfect that when she’s finished Zoe finds herself crying a little. 

“Zoe. Babe, what’s going on?”

“You’re so good to me,” Zoe says. She pulls Sabrina close to her. “I love you. I love you so much.”

Sabrina gently pets her hair and Zoe cries and it’s okay. It’s all okay. 

* * *

Evan’s new therapist’s name is Alice. 

She’s got long pink hair and multiple facial piercings and a lot of tattoos. A truly ridiculous number of tattoos. Evan’s not really sure what to make of her at first. 

Honestly, Evan’s kind of surprised that this is who Heidi picked. It definitely wasn’t what he was expecting. But Heidi explained that she had a specific list of criteria when she was looking for someone and Alice fit all of them. 

He’d asked about the criteria and Heidi had been upfront. She’d wanted someone who specialized in teenagers and young adults. Someone who had could offer some flexibility around making house calls at first given Evan’s condition. 

Most importantly, she’d wanted someone who was queer-friendly. 

Which makes sense, Evan supposes. Fuck knows he’s got enough fucking hangups in that area, the last thing he wants is to have to deal with a therapist who doesn’t fucking get it. 

Alice, he finds out in their first session, is bisexual. Her girlfriend’s name is Marigold and she’s a pastry chef. They have three extremely large dogs and go to a lot of concerts in their spare time. 

“But that’s enough about me,” says Alice, looking Evan straight in the eye. “Let’s talk about you. What’s been going on?”

Evan feels a little bit ridiculous. He gestures to himself, to his still very busted up body. He’s sitting at the table in the pool house, in a chair that’s covered in pillows and blankets to make it as comfortable as possible because he’d refused to have this first session with a therapist in bed, which is where he’s been pretty much non-stop since he got home from the hospital. He’s still exhausted. “Well, I-I-I’m a m-m-m-mess, ob-ob-ob-obviously.”

Alice has kind eyes. She tilts her head a little. “What makes you say that?”

Evan feels his cheeks flush. He tries to explain, tries to say something, but his words come out stilted and shaking and stuttered and there’s no fucking way she can be following this, there’s no way she can understand, his stutter is just fucking it all up, he’s making a fucking idiot of himself, can you get fired by a therapist oh god he’s going to get fired by his therapist. 

“Evan,” she says gently after he stammers and shakes for a while. “Can we try something?”

He looks at her desperately. Shrugs. “I-I-I-I g-guess?”

“Close your eyes,” she says calmly. “Focus on breathing in and out for a bit. Just on breathing. And then when you feel ready, say what’s on your mind. It doesn’t have to be a big, huge thing, okay? Let’s just start small. I’ll breathe with you.”

He is absolutely one hundred percent sure this woman isn’t being paid to sit here and fucking  _ breathe  _ with him, but she’s the expert, and he’s proven that apparently he’s a fucking idiot, so he’ll give it a go. 

Evan closes his eyes. 

Breathes in and out, listening to Alice’s breathing and matching it up. 

After a while, he starts to feel… less. 

Less completely fucking ridiculous. 

“I f-feel like I f-fucked up my whole life,” he says after a while. “But also that it… that it was always h-heading toward disaster? So it’s…” He stops. Breathes for a bit. “It’s like I knew this was coming, that I’d end up fucking everything up eventually.”

“Okay,” says Alice calmly. She’s got a nice voice. “Tell me a little bit more about that.”

“About what?” Evan asks. 

“About what you fucked up.”

So he does. 

As best he can. 

He talks about playing lookout for Ethan and getting arrested. 

Talks about getting into a fight with Brian and Chad with Connor at his side. 

Knocking Brian out, and everything that happened after. 

Going to Chino to get his dad to hurt him. 

Nearly getting taken out of Heidi’s custody. 

Nearly getting Connor killed. 

Nearly dying. 

It feels like he’s run a marathon once he finishes laying it all out. Talking about every single fucking mistake he’s made. 

“That’s a lot to go through for one person,” says Alice when he’s finally done. “Especially when you’re barely seventeen.”

“If I j-just hadn’t been so st-stupid-”

“You got dealt a shit hand, dude.” Evan opens his eyes. Looks at Alice, who’s looking right at him. There’s something kind in her eyes. “That’s what I’m hearing,” she continues. “That life dealt you one hell of a shit hand. That the odds have been stacked against you this whole time.”

Evan feels his eyes sting. Shakes his head. “No, I was st-stupid, I… I wasted it. Wasted my shot.”

“Tell me more about that.”

“Heidi stuck her neck out for me,” Evan says quietly. “And-and I c-couldn’t… she’s the best thing to ever h-happen to me and I f-fucked it up. I d-don’t deserve her. I don’t.”

“Why do you think that?” Alice asks. 

Evan feels his cheeks burn. He shrugs. “I just… I j-just don’t.”

Alice nods a little. It’s not a nod like she agrees with him, more a nod that she hears him. “Okay,” she says calmly. “So let’s see if we can figure out why you think that. Let’s try to examine some of those beliefs. Figure out where they’re coming from. Test them a little, maybe. See if we can… make sure they’re accurate. Find out if they’re true.”

Something in Evan kind of… releases, a little. Or maybe it clicks into place. “I like facts,” he says with a nod. “I l-like things I can rely on.”

Alice’s eyes light up. “You do? Awesome. We can work with that.” She smiles at him. “We can definitely work with that.”

* * *

It’s a little after three in the morning. Connor can’t sleep. His eyes are itching and watering, but he just can’t shut his mind off. He’s supposed to go to school tomorrow. He swore to his dad that he’d go after he cut two classes on Monday and then skipped the whole day on Tuesday. Didn’t bother faking sick or calling out. Doesn’t care that he’s probably going to get written up for truancy again. His grades are still fine. 

Connor doesn’t care about school. He can’t focus there. 

And he can’t sleep here. 

He stays with Evan in the pool house almost every night. He knows it makes Evan feel better. Safer. He doesn’t like being alone in the pool house. He doesn’t like it when Connor leaves at all. 

Evan keeps apologizing for being clingy, but Connor actually loves it. He loves how much Evan seems to want Connor to be around. He loves it a lot. 

What he doesn’t love is… this. 

He’s exhausted but he can’t sleep. 

Because when he shuts his eyes and curls up against Evan, his mind goes through it all again. 

They kissed. They jerked each other off. They cuddled. 

Connor fell asleep. Evan left. 

If Connor had just stayed  _ awake.  _

If he had stayed awake, he could have calmed Evan down. If he had stayed awake, he could have convinced Evan to stay. Or, like, he could have tackled him to the ground or gotten Heidi… He could have done a million things to keep Evan from getting hurt if he had just fucking been awake. 

And it seems his body has internalized this message because every night when Evan falls asleep beside him, Connor finds himself lying awake. Watching him breathe. Worrying about him. 

Evan keeps telling Connor what happened to him wasn’t Connor’s fault but he’s fucking wrong. Connor can feel it, deep in his bones. He knows if it wasn’t for him, Evan never would have taken off. If he wasn’t stupid and tired, if he had just kept his fucking eyes open… 

Connor knows he’s being stupid. Like. Evan is not going to take off in the middle of the night again. He knows that’s not going to happen. Evan’s promised it’s not going to happen and right now he couldn’t get very far on his own. 

But Connor still feels his heart start to race if he even gets close to drifting off. He jerks back into consciousness, short of breath and terrified. 

If he had just stayed awake none of this would have happened. If he had just stayed awake. 

At 3:15, Connor gives up trying to sleep. He read somewhere once that if you’re having trouble sleeping, you shouldn’t just lie there in bed. He gets up. Stretches a little. Goes to sit at the table in the pool house. 

His eyes catch on an orange prescription bottle sitting there on the table. It’s among the several others that have been prescribed for Evan. 800mg of ibuprofen. 20mg of Lexapro, which he was prescribed by his new psychiatrist. Antibiotics and something for headaches. 

There’s also a bottle of oxycodone. 

Heidi’s really slipping in her overprotectiveness because she really shouldn’t have left this here with Connor here. He literally just ODed on oxy a few weeks ago. 

Heidi trusts him and she fucking shouldn’t. 

He’s the reason Evan’s so hurt. He’s the reason… 

Connor bites his lip. 

He can’t take Evan’s pain meds. He actually needs them. He had brain surgery and had to have his lung repaired and there was something happening with his kidneys and… 

Connor’s own kidneys aren’t having a great time. And every time his heart races he wonders if it’s his brain fucking with him or if this is the damage he’s done to himself. 

He’s done… a lot of damage. 

He can’t fucking sleep. 

Connor quietly lets himself out of the pool house. Locks the door with his keys. Sits in one of the lawn chairs outside. He hates leaving Evan but if he stays in that room another minute alone with his thoughts and a bottle of very tempting pills… 

It would be bad. 

So he sits in a lawn chair and smokes a cigarette. Tries to get himself together. He needs to keep it together. Evan’s not going to want him if he keeps falling apart. He’ll get sick of Connor’s drama. He’s surprised Evan hasn’t already. For someone without any real problems, Connor sure seems to find ways to invent them. 

He can’t eat. He likes drugs too much. He’s so gay it’s stupid. He hurts himself sometimes. He kind of wants to die a little. A lot. But only sometimes. His mom hates him. 

God, he’s not worth the fucking trouble. Evan’s going to get sick of him so soon. He’s going to get sick of him and he’s going to tell Connor to fuck off. He’s going to realize he hurt himself for nothing, for no good reason, because Connor’s not worth it, he’s not worth anything. 

“Hey.” 

Connor’s not expecting it. He starts so violently he nearly upends his chair. 

Evan’s standing there in his pajamas, hair rumpled from sleep. He’s frowning. “Woke up and you were gone,” he says, coming to sit beside Connor. 

“Sorry,” Connor says, frowning apologetically. “I… Couldn’t sleep. I didn’t wanna wake you up.” He flicks ash off the end of his cigarette. 

Evan nods. Looks at Connor with an odd expression that Connor cannot place. 

Evan takes the cigarette out of Connor’s hand and takes a puff. He coughs a couple of times, the sound painful and wheezing, and hands it back. 

“Yeah, maybe none of these for you anymore,” Connor says quietly. 

Evan frowns. 

“Haven’t you heard? Apparently, they’re super bad for you.” 

Evan rolls his eyes. “I k-kinda. Miss it? It… helps when. Stuff is…” 

“A lot?” Connor fills in for him. 

Evan nods. 

“Maybe we’ll need to, like, get you candy cigarettes or something. Do they still make those? That way you get the oral fixation and something to do with your hands, but only minty fresh breath instead of like. Bad lungs.” 

Evan sighs. He rests his head against Connor’s shoulder. Connor knows he should be polite and put his cigarette out since he’s not sharing with Evan, but right now  _ he  _ needs it or he’s going to have a nervous breakdown. Connor gently rubs his hand over Evan’s shoulders and back, then squeezes him around the shoulders. “Why are you up?” he asks. 

Evan sighs. “I’m. Uncomfortable.” 

Meaning he’s in pain. Again. He’s always trying to lie about how much pain he’s in and it kills Connor so much. It kills him. He gets these horrible headaches, and sometimes his ribs make it hard for him to lie down, and there’s the surgical incisions that are still healing on his side and his head. He’s been through so much. It’s a miracle that he’s alive and walking around. 

“How bad is it?” Connor asks gently. 

“It’s really not,” Evan says. 

“Humor me. Scale of one to ten.” 

“Three,” Evan replies too quickly. 

That’s crap. Evan’s got a high pain tolerance. He would probably sleep right through a three. Connor raises his eyebrows at him. 

“F-fine. Six, six and a half,” Evan says. “My head hurts a lot and my side… it feels like my ribs are too tight or something.” 

Connor nods. “Did you take anything?”

“Some of the ibuprofen,” Evan says. Connor knows that can help with pain and swelling… but post-surgical pain? It’s not going to do shit for that. They both know it. 

“You need to actually be taking your pain meds,” Connor says awkwardly. “When you don’t take them, you sleep badly and you wake up all irritable and groggy the next day.”

Evan frowns. “I just… I hate how they make me feel,” He says. “I’m all… loopy or-or high or whatever. It makes me feel like I’m floating or-or imagining things. I hate it.” 

Connor nods. 

Everything Evan just described is precisely why he likes taking drugs. It’s exactly what he likes about taking some oxy and then floating in and out of their shared reality. 

“I don’t really get it though,” He admits, smiling a little awkwardly. “I love…pretty much everything about getting high on oxy. You just like… feel instantly better, you know?” 

Like it takes all of the barriers and boundaries you have been carefully building and sneaks in through the tracks. At first the rush of excited emotion, the looming sense of something good to come. Sort of like finding an unexpectedly good old friend at a random ass party. Or realizing the boy that you like does seem to like boys and he lives next door. A sudden alignment of stars. 

Evan’s face falls. “Fuck. Fuck, I’m an idiot.” He starts to scramble to his feet. 

“What’s going on?” Connor asks, taking his hands. 

“I am an idiot,” Evan whispers. “Oh my god, I am so fucking stupid. Y-you’re trying to stay clean and I… I have drugs. I have a lot of drugs and I left them out right in front of you. I should just flush them. ” 

Connor frowns. “You’re in pain. They’re prescribed.” 

Connor knows he is not worth any pain. 

Evan shakes his head again. “I need to keep my head on straight. Need to keep my wits about me. I can’t protect us if I’m high or-or out of it all the time. And I need to be able to look out for you.” 

Connor sighs heavily. “No. You don’t.” 

“I do,” Evan says insistently. “Can’t do that if I’m high.” 

Connor shakes his head. Lowers it so his face is looking directly at the sun. “I really hate that you think that keeping me safe involves hurting yourself,” he says flatly. 

Evan frowns at him. “That’s not.” He hangs his head. “I’m sorry.” 

Connor shrugs. “I just. I don’t want to be a jerk. But… if you’re getting hurt then that’s. That’s not safe for me.” He sighs. “And neither is you being in so much pain. You should take something. Help you to sleep at least.”

Evan looks like he wants to protest, but he doesn’t. Connor puts out his cigarette. He’s supposed to be up for school by seven tomorrow. He has some doubts that’ll happen. 

But he doesn’t care. 

Evan needs him so he’s right where he’s supposed to be. 

* * *

_ “I really hate that you think that keeping me safe involves hurting yourself.” _

_ “If you’re getting hurt then that’s not safe for me.” _

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

Evan hates everything about this. Hates how much pain he’s in. Hates that Connor isn’t sleeping. Hates that he’s been prescribed these fucking drugs, the same drugs that nearly killed Connor. 

Hates that Connor’s so obviously suffering. 

That there’s something keeping him awake and…

Evan has his suspicions. 

He thinks he knows why Connor can’t sleep. It’s because he’s here. 

In the pool house. 

Where he woke up alone. 

If Evan were stronger, he’d insist that they just go upstairs to his bedroom, but he knows he can’t handle the stairs right now. He knows that in the end, the pool house is probably the best place for him, because it gives him space and lets him not always just be in bed and means he can actually get to the living room of the main house without too much effort if he needs to. 

But it’s freaking out Connor, and he hates that. 

He hates it so much. 

Connor helps him back to bed. Sits with him and makes sure he takes some oxy. Watches him carefully as he does, which…

Sits weirdly. 

It takes a little while to take effect but when it does, Evan feels uneasy. Exhausted. Tired and strange round the edges. Like he’s not sure if he’s real or not. 

He doesn’t get why Connor likes this. 

How he can feel safe all untethered from reality like this. 

Connor wraps his arms around him lightly, pulling him close, and Evan kisses his neck. His jaw. His lips. 

Connor shivers a little. 

“Want you to stay,” Evan manages to murmur as he feels sleep take him. “Always… always want you here.”

“I’m staying,” Connor promises, and that’s the last thing Evan remembers before he falls asleep. 

When he wakes up, it’s to Heidi shaking him awake. Rosa’s made french toast. 

Connor’s gone. 

They sit at the table and eat. It’s nearly ten, so Evan assumes Connor must have gone to school. 

He misses him already. He hates that he just… fell asleep and stayed asleep and doesn’t know if Connor’s okay, if he made it to school or just went home to his own house to sleep, and it’s so fucking selfish of Evan to keep asking him to be here. 

Here in a place with so many memories. 

Evan understands why it might be hard for Connor to be here. It’s not the same for him, though. Mostly when he’s here he thinks about him and Connor together and how it had just… felt so natural. So easy. 

He wants to hold onto that. He doesn’t want to let go of that. 

Even though he fucked it all up so badly that Connor’s probably never going to want to touch him like that again. Evan’s surprised Connor even wants to talk to him, let alone kiss him. Surprised that Connor keeps coming over when all it seems to be doing is causing him pain. 

He wishes he could do something. 

Anything. 

“Do you think you and Rosa could help me with something?” Evan asks Heidi after an idea occurs to him. 

“What do you need?” Heidi asks immediately. 

“Maybe we c-could rearrange some of the f-furniture in here,” he suggests hesitantly. “It’s j-j-just that Connor’s h-having a hard t-time sleeping when he’s h-here and I… I think it’s because he w-was here alone after I…” He swallows hard. “After I left.”

Heidi looks thoughtful. “I think we could do that,” she says. “How about after we finish breakfast, we get you settled in the main house and Rosa and I will see what we can do.”

Evan looks at her. “There’s… s-something else?” he asks nervously. “I-I-I think I should… get, like, like… something I can lock m-my drugs in. N-n-n-not b-because I d-d-d-don’t trust Connor, but-”

“It’s hard for him having them right there,” Heidi surmises, looking horribly guilty. “Shit. I didn’t even think about that, they gave you oxy.”

“Yeah,” Evan says, feeling kind of shaky. “It’s n-not that I d-don’t trust him. B-but he’s having tr-trouble sleeping and they’re right there, and…” He shrugs. “He doesn’t n-need that, you know? If there’s s-something I can d-do to… I kn-know I can’t fix this, Heidi, but I j-just d-don’t want him to be h-hurting because of me.”

Heidi looks at him, her gaze assessing. “Are you taking your medication as you should be?” she asks bluntly. 

Evan feels his face flush. “The, uh, the Lexapro, yeah. And… ibuprofen. I j-just d-don’t like the oxy that often, it’s… I don’t like how it m-makes me feel.”

“Are you waking up in the middle of the night?” Heidi asks point-blank. 

“Yeah.”

“Then you gotta take it before bed,” Heidi says firmly. “Okay? You need to sleep if you’re going to heal. And if you can’t sleep because you’re in too much pain, that’s not going to help.”

“But what if something happens?” Evan asks. “S-something might happen and I-I-I won’t be able to  _ do  _ anything b-because I’ll be too out of it.”

Heidi looks like her heart is about to shatter into a million pieces. 

“Nothing is going to happen,” she tells him, something fierce in her voice. “Okay? Nothing is going to happen. You are safe here. You lock the door to the pool house at night, right? So the only people who can get it are me, Rosa and Connor. And we’re all safe, right?”

Evan can’t figure out how to explain what he’s afraid of. 

He knows it’s irrational, knows it’s stupid and kind of childish, but he’s just…

Terrified that something will happen and he won’t be able to defend himself. 

Terrified of letting himself be vulnerable. 

“Do you trust Connor?” Heidi asks, her voice soft. 

“Yes,” Evan says immediately. 

“Then trust that if anything happens, he will keep you safe,” she says quietly. “You can take something to help with the pain because you know that he’s there. And if anything did happen, I’m a phone call away. You have people who have your back, okay sweetheart? I know you didn’t before, but you do now.”

Evan lets Heidi help him into the main house. Falls asleep on the couch almost instantly. He wakes up early afternoon to find Connor sitting at the end of the couch, listening to his iPod, kind of dozing. 

He looks exhausted. 

Evan sits up carefully and Connor stirs. Takes the headphones out of his ears and smiles at him. “Rosa and Heidi said they’re doing something in the pool house so you were in here.”

“Yeah,” Evan says. “They, uh, they’re moving some furniture around.”

Connor blinks. “Uh, okay.”

“I know it’s not g-gonna change what h-happened,” Evan says quietly. “B-but maybe… if it’s a-a-a little different, then… m-maybe you can sleep.”

* * *

Connor can hardly swallow he’s kind of. Overwhelmed. “You didn’t have to ask them to do that,” he says quietly. 

“You can’t sleep and-and it’s. M-my fault.”

Connor shakes his head. “No.”

Evan frowns at him. 

“It’s not your fault okay? It’s mine. My stupid… brain or whatever,” he mutters. “You don’t need to take care of me.”

Evan opens his mouth like maybe he wants to protest but doesn’t. 

Shit. 

“How was school?” Evan asks instead. 

Connor shrugs. It sucked. He was so exhausted he fell asleep in trig. Sabrina had to keep poking him to wake him up. Mrs. Carlson didn’t give him a detention but he sort of feels like she should have. He was sleeping in her class. That’s so rude. She’s been nice to him. 

“It was okay. Mr. Stevens gave me some books for you. He says that you shouldn’t feel obligated to read them, they’re just in case you get bored.”

Evan smiles a little. “That was n-nice of him.” He scoots a little closer to Connor. “Can you come here?”

Connor obliges. He comes closer. Lets Evan wrap his arms around him. Connor holds on as tight as he dares (which isn’t very tight at all) and Evan exhales warmly against his neck. It makes Connor’s skin erupt in goosebumps. They only get worse when Evan kisses him there. 

Fuck. 

Evan is. Doing a good job of distracting him at least. 

Evan kisses him softly. Rests himself against Connor. “Did Heidi s-say when she and Rosa will be done?”

Connor shakes his head. “No, they didn’t.”

Evan nods. “Maybe you should try to nap then?”

Connor shakes his head. “No. You’re awake. You’re  _ here.  _ I’m not sleeping now.”

“Connor,” is all Evan has to say. 

And Connor feels his exhaustion fall on him heavily. He’s  _ so  _ damn tired. 

“No,” he says stubbornly. “You’re here.”

“Did you sleep at all last night?”

Connor closes his tired eyes just for a moment. “Not really.”

When he opens his eyes again, Evan looks unhappy. Fuck. Connor’s pissing him off. 

“I’m not even that tired.”

“Liar,” Evan says. 

“You’re here,” Connor tries to explain. He has to spend so much time away from Evan and he hates it more than he can explain. He worries about him all day when he’s at school. It’s better when he can see him. He’s not going to waste that. “You’re here and you’re okay and… I don’t want to like. Sleep through it. I  _ hate  _ missing you.”

Evan kisses him then. But then he practically pulls Connor down so they’re both lying on the sofa. Connor’s head is resting on Evan's chest. Connor tries to move away but Evan doesn’t really let him get away. “I’ll hurt you,” he protests. “Your ribs-”

“You’re not heavy,” Evan says. “You’re not hurting me. Please. Just sleep a little. Please? For me?”

Connor wants to argue but his whole body is demanding he does exactly that. Right now. Immediately. It’s like Evan has hit him with a tranquilizer gun. “I…” 

He settles himself, his head more on Evan’s shoulder than his chest. He can’t hurt him. He can’t. 

Evan rubs his fingers through Connor’s hair. It makes him shiver. Evan pulls the blanket over him so it covers Connor too. 

“Sleep. Please.”

And Connor can’t fight it anymore. He sleeps. 

He wakes up a little while later. No idea how long he’s been out. His neck and back are a little stiff. His eyes feel gritty and dry. 

“Hey,” Evan says. He’s just opening his eyes too. “How’d you sleep?”

“I feel less like I slept and more like someone ran me over with a garbage truck,” Connor says, wriggling free of Evan’s grasp. 

Evan frowns. 

“Sorry,” Connor says. 

“It’s not… it’s not your fault. I’m sorry you’re so tired.”

Connor doesn’t know what to say. 

But he’s spared from having to respond because Heidi appears then. “We got a little carried away in the pool house,” she says. “So I hope you don’t mind that we’re doing Chinese for dinner.”

Evan seems happy with that. If he’s happy, Connor resolves to be happy too. 

Fried food though? He’ll probably be sick later. 

Connor finds his phone buried in the sofa and texts Laura. 

**Pray for me I’m about to eat Chinese takeout.**

She sends back a bunch of emoticons. And  **good luck dude.**

So helpful. 

“Who’s that?” Evan asks, sounding curious. 

Connor feels his cheeks get warm. “Uh. Laura. She goes to Pacific. She’s in my… group? At the hospital.”

“Oh,” Evan says. His voice gets a little bit higher whenever he’s uncomfortable. 

“Evan. She’s a  _ girl.  _ And a cheerleader. All we talk about is… food.”

“You can talk to me about it,” Evan says immediately. “You can.”

No, he can’t. Evan’s just gonna try to  _ fix  _ it. And while Connor loves that about him, he doesn’t think hearing all of the vitamins in Chinese takeout is going to help him right now. 

It’s hard. Lately, everything is harder than before. 

He hates it. 

Whatever. 

Heidi is at least a thoughtful person and got lots of options. Some steamed vegetables in addition to all of the fried stuff. They go to the regular table in the main house to eat for a change. Connor does his best. He really does. He even forces himself to eat a spring roll. Well. Half. 

“Alright gentlemen, shall we get you settled back in the pool house?” She asks them when Connor is playing with a piece of broccoli for a little too long. 

Evan smiles gratefully. Connor helps Evan up out of his chair and keeps his arm around him as they slowly walk back to the pool house. Evan’s steadier than he has been so Connor thinks maybe he lets Connor keep his arm around him because he  _ likes  _ having Connor’s arm around him. And that makes him feel all warm. 

The inside of the pool house looks different. 

The curtains are different. 

The bed has been moved. So has the other furniture. It’s arranged a little bit more like it’s a tiny apartment than just an extra bedroom now. There’s a new bedspread on the bed. 

A Panic! at the Disco poster in a frame on one of the walls where there used to be a painting of some seashells. 

A small bookshelf with a few of Evan’s books on it. 

Connor smiles at Heidi. 

“Thought you’d both appreciate something a little more familiar,” she says. 

“Thank you,” he says quietly. He looks at Evan, his heart swelling with affection. “You guys didn’t have to do this…”

“I didn’t actually do anything,” Evan says with a grin. 

“But it was his idea,” Heidi says with a smile. “Now I need to borrow Evan for a second okay?”

Connor feels his heart drop. 

“Nothing bad,” she says. “I just need him to set up the combination on this lock for me.”

Connor’s not following. But then he sees a small box with a combination on it. 

And Heidi is setting a bottle of pills inside it. 

Connor feels his face flush with embarrassment. Fuck. Evan must have told her about how Connor’s been staring at his pills. 

Fuck. 

Evan enters in the combination he picked. 

Connor sort of hopes for his own sake that Evan’s smart enough not to use his birthday. Connor knows Evan’s birthday. 

“Okay, looks like we’re all set,” Heidi says when Evan successfully tests out the new combination twice. “You both look exhausted. Connor, I texted your dad that you’re gonna stay over again. Why don’t you get an early night? Maybe watch a movie or something and get some sleep?”

Connor doesn’t protest this time. He goes and changes into his pajamas in the bathroom. Heidi sets them up with a bunch of DVDs. Kisses Evan on the cheek and squeezes his shoulder. 

“I love you so much kid,” she tells him, kissing his hair once more. Evan goes pink and doesn’t say anything back. Just smiles. 

Heidi comes and gives Connor a hug. “You’re doing really well,” she says softly when she’s hugging him. “Be gentle with yourself okay?”

He has no fucking clue what that means. But he agrees. 

Evan decides they should watch  _ Mean Girls.  _

“It’s your favorite movie, and I’ve never seen it!” He says when Connor says they don’t need to watch it. 

Connor puts it on. Curls up beside Evan in bed. Evan pushes his hands through Connor’s hair a few times. Connor really likes that. 

“How come you grew your hair out?” Evan asks quietly as Cady and the girl from Michigan are confused for each other. “Too punk rock for hair cuts? Fuck you to your mom?”

“I didn’t… even do it on purpose,” Connor confesses, stifling a yawn. “Just. Didn’t know where to get a haircut… in New Hampshire. And then I… kinda liked it long. So.” He sighs. “S’too long now. I look like a… fucking girl.”

“A pretty girl,” Evan teases. 

“Fuck you,” Connor says affectionately. 

Evan smiles and kisses the top of his head. 

And that’s the last thing Connor remembers until morning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "A Walk Through Hell" by Say Anything.


	57. I'm Just A Teenage Dirtbag, Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Alana have a spa night. Zoe takes a leap of faith. There are things Evan can't say, but at least there's cheesecake.

“Connor’s been skipping a lot of school,” Alana Beck observes at lunch one day, taking Zoe a little bit by surprise. 

She’s not exactly sure where she and Alana stand. Alana is Sabrina’s friend. She’s Connor’s friend. And Zoe’s Sabrina’s girlfriend and she sits with them at lunch. But the two of them don’t really talk much. 

“Yeah,” Zoe says, frowning a bit. “Honestly, I think my dad’s sort of given up on the idea of him even coming to school anymore.”

Alana frowns. “I’m concerned he’s going to fall behind. AP tests start next week..”

Zoe shrugs. “I don’t think Connor really gives a shit about AP tests,” she says honestly. “He’s barely ever even home. He’s with Evan like. Every day.”

Sabrina kind of smiles. “I think it’s kind of sweet. That he’s so worried about Evan.”

Zoe sort of agrees… but she kind of sees Alana’s point. It would be kind of a waste if Connor just totally failed those after working so hard most of the year. Not that anything really  _ happens  _ if you flunk an AP rest. You just don’t get credit. But it would still suck. 

Zoe thinks about that conversation for the rest of the day. When Sabrina comes over after school, Zoe’s still thinking about it. 

“Well. You could talk to Connor about it?”

“Yeah because  _ we  _ talk,” Zoe says. She frowns. “I mean. Do I have a leg to stand on here? I spent like. Most of this semester getting high at school.”

Sabrina frowns deeply. Pulls Zoe in and kisses her softly. “You’re worried about him.”

“I dunno if I even  _ get  _ to, you know? I’ve been an asshole.”

Sabrina smiles at Zoe. “I think you definitely get to worry. I think that’s how it works.”

“You’re an only child,” Zoe counters. 

Sabrina shrugs. 

Sabrina leaves before dinner. Her dad and her go out for dinner together once a week. Zoe thinks that’s kind of cute. She knows Sabrina’s dad is a sort of quiet and awkward guy, but she likes that they do that. 

Connor comes home not long after Sabrina leaves. He has his group after school today. He always comes home in a weird mood. Last week he brought this girl Laura over for a bit, which kind of threw the whole house into chaos because Connor hasn’t had a friend who wasn’t Evan over in years. Probably since like fifth grade. 

He was just burning her some CDs but Zoe and her dad basically had an entire conference about what the fuck was happening. Connor with a girl? Connor with a friend? What the fuck? 

He doesn’t have Laura with him today. He’s just standing in the kitchen, looking sort of helplessly into the fridge. 

Their dad is stuck late at work. He’s still catching up after all the time he took off when Connor was in the hospital. 

Granny Murphy prepped like a ton of food for them before she went home and Zoe’s supposed to warm something up for dinner. 

“What do you think?” She says. “There’s shepherd's pie? Or are you feeling pasta? I think there’s some baked ziti in there.”

Connor frowns. “Who put you in charge?”

“Dad,” Zoe says. She points to the note he left them on the fridge. At the bottom, it says, “ _ Zoe please warm up one of the meals Granny left for dinner and please make sure your brother actually eats some of it with you.” _

Connor sighs. 

“I don’t care. Whatever you want.”

Zoe decides she’s not feeling pasta so she puts the tinfoil pan of shepherds pie in the oven per Granny’s instructions. 

Connor sits at the breakfast bar and frowns. He looks super tired. Zoe doesn’t like it. 

“So. How are you?”

Connor blinks at her. “Fine,” he says. 

“You skipped school again today,” Zoe says. 

Connor shrugs. “Didn’t feel like going.”

“AP tests are next week,” she says casually. 

“I know.”

“Are you gonna take them?” Zoe asks. 

Connor shrugs again. 

“You probably should.” Zoe says it in what she hopes isn’t a judgy way. 

Connor frowns. “I didn’t see the part of dad’s note where he said to nag me.”

Zoe holds her hands up in surrender. “I just mean. I know you worked hard to like. Prepare. It seems dumb to just not even try.”

Connor gives her an unhappy look. “I dunno what the point is.”

“Well. College?”

Connor grimaces. “I don’t even know if I wanna go to college.”

“Dad’ll be thrilled to hear that,” Zoe remarks. 

Connor folds his arms over his middle. “Whatever.”

Zoe wrinkles her nose. “I mean. Dude. Wouldn’t it just be easier to take them and keep him off your back?”

He sighs. “Probably.”

Connor looks down at the countertop of the breakfast bar. He looks… really sad. Like. Just really fucking sad. 

“Okay I know me and you don’t like. Do the whole… touchy-feely emotions shit. But. Do you wanna talk about it?”

Connor rolls his eyes. “Fuck no.”

Zoe sighs. 

They fall quiet. When the oven beeps, Zoe pulls the dish out. Takes the tinfoil lid off of the top and then puts it back in the oven. 

Connor is looking at her. Just. 

She doesn’t know why. 

“Madison and you don’t talk anymore,” he says finally. 

“Yeah, well, saw that coming,” Zoe says with an eye roll. “She’s a bitch anyway. Mom was the one who thought we should be friends.”

Connor nods. 

He still looks so sad. And scared. It kinda reminds her of when they were little. Connor was always the crier. He followed their mom around all the time. He read a lot. 

He was sad a lot. 

As a kid. 

And scared a lot. 

“Do you remember the olive eyeballs?” Zoe says suddenly. 

Connor smiles a little. “Yeah. Scared the shit out of me.”

Zoe remembers. 

“That’s what you look like right now.” 

Connor looks at her weird. 

“Like you stuck your hand into a bowl of olive eyeballs. Like you know you shouldn’t be scared but you still are.”

“Fuck off,” Connor says. It doesn’t even come out rude. Just like he’s tired. 

“It’s okay if you’re like. Still freaked out after everything that happened.”

Connor frowns at her. 

“I still am,” Zoe says. “It’s like… traumatic and whatever. We’re all still freaked out. And like. Mom bailing on us in the middle didn’t exactly help.”

Connor’s head jerks up. He looks at her sharply. “Have you talked to her?”

“Couple times on the phone,” Zoe says. They haven’t been like. Long conversations. Or good ones, really. Zoe’s pretty pissed off at her. “Have you?”

Connor shakes his head. “She called a couple of times. But. I’ve been ignoring her.”

“You get to be mad at her,” Zoe says. 

“Trust me, I fucking know,” he mutters. “She doesn’t even… she doesn’t  _ want  _ me. She told me.”

“Connor,” Zoe says suddenly. “She totally freaked when you… had to go to the hospital.”

Connor doesn’t say anything. 

“She found you,” Zoe says. 

Connor flinches. “Why the fuck was she even in my room?” He mutters. 

“I dunno,” Zoe says. “Maybe she wanted to check on you?”

“She was probably just gonna yell at me.”

Zoe sighs. “Well, whatever she wanted. I’m glad she went in there.”

Connor frowns. “I… you don’t have to say that.”

“You think I’m just saying that?” Zoe says. “I  _ love you,  _ asshole. I don’t want you dead.”

Connor’s eyes get glassy. “You… you called me…”

He can’t seem to bring himself to say it. 

“I know,” Zoe says. “I’m sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t even know what it meant. But I’m still. I’m really sorry.”

Connor won’t look at her. 

“Look I’m not gonna pretend you weren’t a colossal fuck back then,” Zoe says. “But I would never, ever want you to hurt yourself. Okay?”

“You don’t have to say-”

“I’m not just saying that,” Zoe says. “I’m not stupid. I’ve just… been kind of a colossal fuck too okay?”

Connor nods. 

“I cried for three days when you went away to boarding school,” Zoe says suddenly. 

“Bullshit.”

“I’m not fucking with you. I was… I was so  _ sad.  _ We were always supposed to like. Go to high school together. I was like. I thought I’d have you there.” She sighs. “I didn’t talk to dad for like. Two weeks. And then Uncle David died… and you weren’t here. And I… it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that you didn’t even get to go to the funeral, it wasn’t fair that I had to go without you...”

Connor frowns. 

“I missed you, okay? I missed you when you were gone.” Zoe reaches out and grabs Connor’s hand. “So like. You’re not allowed to just… you’re not allowed okay?”

Connor huffs, like he’s annoyed. 

“I’m surprised Evan’s cool with you ditching so much school,” Zoe says. 

Connor’s face goes pale. “I’m not… I don’t always go over there.”

Zoe’s surprised to learn that. “Where do you go?”

He shrugs. “Just. Places.” He scrunches his nose up. “I went to Chino one day. Hung out in the library parking lot. Evan used to go there a lot.”

Zoe nods. 

“I went and. Tried to find where Uncle David’s buried.” He shakes his head. “I couldn’t find him.” He blinks. “I… do you think he would have liked Evan?”

Zoe nods. “He would have loved Evan.”

“Is it weird? That Heidi’s kinda… Aunt Heidi? But me and Evan are… when Aunt Heidi lost the baby when we were little, you were all like ‘we’re gonna have a cousin.’”

“It’s not like you guys grew up together. And she’s not really our aunt.”

Connor nods. 

The oven beeps again. 

Zoe pulls the pan out. Connor gets them plates. They both spoon some into their plates. Sit there quietly while the food cools. 

Zoe looks at her brother. Her too skinny, sad, and scared looking big brother. Who’d kill someone for her if she asked. Who she hurt a lot. Who she hurt on purpose and on accident. 

“Connor?”

“Huh?”

“It’s okay if you’re mad at me too. You know.”

Connor sighs. “I’m not…”

“I… I fucked up a lot. For you. And I was… an idiot. I was  _ mean.  _ I had drugs in the house. You can be mad at me.”

“I was worse to you.”

“It’s not a competition,” Zoe tells him. 

Connor shakes his head. “I know but….” He clears his throat. “I just. It’s dumb to even be mad, you know?”

“Uh. No. Not really. I was a dick.”

Connor gives her a look she can’t really read. “You… If you hadn’t driven me…”

Zoe feels a sudden swooping in her stomach. 

“If you hadn’t driven me to Chino, Evan would be dead. I couldn’t get there myself and… it’s stupid to even be mad. Because if you weren’t there? If you hadn’t gotten us to the hospital?  _ You  _ saved Evan’s life. You got him to the hospital, you fucking… Handled everything. I was a mess.”

“You went after his dad,” Zoe says softly. 

“Couldn’t have done that if I crashed my car trying to get there,” Connor says, his mouth a hard line. “He wouldn’t even be  _ alive  _ if you hadn’t stepped up Zo. So. It’s really stupid to be mad at you. I love him and you saved his life. Fuck, you’re even the one who called 911 for me. You’re the fucking hero of this story. I’m just an idiot.”

Zoe doesn’t know what to say. 

Connor finishes half of his food and then goes over to see Evan. 

Zoe doesn’t know how to make things better. But she’s gonna keep trying. 

* * *

“How’s Evan doing?” Alana asks Zoe at lunch later that week. Her tone is polite, but Sabrina’s known Alana for long enough to know that she’s still not a hundred percent on board with… whatever’s going on with Sabrina and Zoe these days. 

Still, at least she’s being polite. That’s something. 

“Better,” Zoe tells Alana, her face falling a little. “He… he looks better, that’s for sure. But he’s still kind of… he gets headaches a lot. He needs a lot of rest. I’ve seen him a few times, but mostly I…” She shrugs. Blows her hair out of her face. “I don’t want to, like, get in the way?”

“I’m sure you’re not in the way,” Sabrina says. Zoe kind of scrunches up her nose, like she’s going to argue, but doesn’t say anything. 

It’s a weird situation. 

Sabrina thinks back to how jealous she was of Evan at the beginning. How jealous she was that Zoe was so into him. Obviously, that ship has sailed in a big way, but Sabrina’s not stupid. She knows they both still care about each other. 

She saw how scared Zoe was when Evan was hurt. 

Evan asked Sabrina specifically to ask Zoe to visit when he was in hospital. 

Sabrina thinks that Evan and Zoe could be on their way to being friends. Real, genuine friends. At the moment, though, it’s like this weird limbo. 

And it’s not like Sabrina’s seen Evan since he got out of the hospital.

She hasn’t wanted to get in the way, either. 

“We should go visit Evan,” Sabrina says decisively. “All three of us. After school.” 

Alana’s face breaks into a smile. “We should,” she says immediately. “I miss him. And Connor.” 

Sabrina turns to Zoe. “Can you text Connor and ask if Evan’s up to it?” 

Zoe nods. Gives this slightly hesitant smile and pulls out her phone. Moments later, she’s got a reply. Evan’s having a good day, Connor says, so it’s agreed that they’ll head around to Heidi’s after school. 

Alana gets a ride with Sabrina, which also means a ride with Zoe. Sabrina’s been driving Zoe to and from school the last few weeks, even though Zoe has her own car. Sabrina doesn’t mind. She knows it makes Zoe feel less vulnerable, coming to school with Sabrina. Alana, however, asks Zoe if her car is in the shop the minute she gets into the backseat. Zoe turns pink and Sabrina resists the urge to tell Alana to shut up. 

It makes sense that Alana isn’t still a hundred percent on board with Zoe, after all. And it’s not like she’s being completely awful. 

Just… a little frosty. 

The people Zoe and Sabrina used to spend all their time with have had plenty to say about Alana in the past. Just because Sabrina’s forgiven Zoe all of that doesn’t mean Alana has to have done the same. 

When they get to Heidi’s, Heidi comes out to greet them. She’s in jeans and a t-shirt and looks tired but she smiles when she sees them. 

“Connor said you were coming,” Heidi says, pulling Zoe into a hug immediately. Sabrina’s a little taken aback when Heidi then hugs both her and Alana. “Evan’s looking forward to seeing you. He was going to try to nap a bit before you arrived but he told me to wake him when you got here.”

“If he’s sleeping, we don’t want to wake him up,” Alana says immediately. “Sleep is important for healing.”

“He insisted,” Heidi says, and walks the three of them to the pool house. 

The curtains are closed but there’s enough light to see. Sabrina sees immediately that there are two figures in the bed. Evan’s curled up against Connor, his head on his chest, and Connor’s arm is wrapped protectively around Evan like he’s trying to keep him safe. 

“Hey,” Heidi says, her voice gentle. Connor blinks a few times and opens his eyes. “You’ve got visitors.”

Connor blinks a few more times, then offers an apologetic smile. “Sorry,” he says quietly. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep, Evan was just tired.” He looks down at Evan, who’s still out, and his whole face softens. It makes something in Sabrina’s chest leap with happiness. 

Connor gently shakes Evan’s shoulder enough to wake him up. Says something quietly to him that Sabrina can’t hear. Evan’s eyes open and he looks at Connor, and his face is soft, too, and it’s like the two of them are in their own little world. 

It takes a few minutes for Evan to wake up properly. A few more for him to realize that Sabrina, Alana, and Zoe are there. Heidi opens up one of the curtains and gestures for Sabrina, Alana, and Zoe to sit on the sofas in the light. 

Connor and Heidi help a still obviously groggy Evan to the sofa and he smiles at them, his cheeks a little pink. “Sorry, I’m k-kinda… n-not fit for c-company,” Evan jokes weakly, gesturing to his pajamas. 

“We’re overdressed,” Zoe says immediately. “Next time, we’ll all come in our pajamas.” 

Evan’s smile gets even wider. “That w-would be c-cool,” he says. He looks over at Alana. “How’s school? How are the AP tests? D-don’t they start soon?”

Alana nods seriously, then launches into a rundown on what’s been happening at school. Zoe reaches out and takes Sabrina’s hand, squeezing it tightly, and Evan nods along with Alana, clearly trying to focus on what she’s saying. 

Heidi excuses herself and heads out of the pool house. Evan smiles at her as she goes, then leans his head on Connor’s shoulder. 

They look like they fit together, Sabrina notes. 

Evan and Connor look like they fit together. 

After a while, Connor announces he needs to pee. Evan moves his head, obviously reluctantly. Before Connor moves, Evan tugs his hand gently, and Connor leans in a little so Evan can kiss him. 

It makes Sabrina feel warm all over, seeing them like this. 

Connor’s cheeks go a little pink, like he’s just realizing that there are people seeing them kiss, and he mumbles something before he heads off to the bathroom. 

Alana looks at Sabrina, this strange expression on her face, then turns back to Evan. 

“So,” Alana says, her voice matter-of-fact. “You and Connor.”

Evan blushes, but he’s smiling. “Y-yeah,” he says, his voice soft. “Connor is… he’s wonderful.”

Sabrina grins at him. Offers an over-dramatic sigh. “Damn it, Evan, we lost the token straight in our friend group.”

Zoe lets out this surprised giggle. Alana’s eyebrows go up, then she laughs, too. 

“S-sorry to disappoint you,” Evan jokes with a smile. His face is almost totally red by now, but he looks… happy. So happy. “I d-didn’t kn-know,” he says after a moment. “I d-didn’t know I w-wasn’t straight until… until Connor.”

“Makes sense,” Zoe says, something determined in her tone. “I didn’t know I wasn’t straight until Sabrina.” She looks at Sabrina. Squeezes her hand tightly. “Sometimes it’s just… the person. You know?”

“Yeah,” Evan says, something surprised in his voice. Sabrina has to tear her eyes away from Zoe and her soft smile to look at Evan. It’s not easy. 

“It’s not always easy,” Alana says, a little unexpectedly. “Figuring out things about yourself you didn’t know.” Sabrina looks over at her to see Alana’s… not exactly frowning, but she looks a little concerned. “And you’re okay?”

Evan bites his lip. Nods. “I d-don’t…” he begins, then trails off. Stops. Takes a breath. “I kn-know how I feel about Connor. I know that I…”

Sabrina looks at him carefully. Sees him frown a little. There’s something lost in his expression. Almost… hurt. 

Then it passes. Smoothes out. 

“I care about him,” Evan says after a moment. “I care about him so much and I… I w-want to be with him.” 

Sabrina smiles. “You two seem happy,” she offers. 

Something in Evan’s shoulders relaxes a little. “Yeah,” he says. “I hope so.”

* * *

Connor’s having a bad fucking day. He got detention in  _ English  _ because when Mr. Stevens called on him to ask his thoughts on this  _ stupid  _ fucking AP test prep essay prompt they were working on, Connor said it was “a waste of fucking time writing about bullshit first amendment rights.”

Mr. Stevens tries to talk to him after his detention but Connor’s not feeling particularly talkative. Something about the literary magazine. He just stares at him, his jaw clenching. 

He’s pissed off. 

He goes home and Sabrina is over for dinner  _ again _ . And don’t get him wrong, Connor likes Sabrina. He’s glad she and Zoe seem to have worked out whatever their issues were. But it’s like they’re  _ always touching.  _

Like they eat their food  _ holding hands.  _

They did it at lunch too. Connor’s getting a fucking headache just looking at them being  _ happy.  _

“Can you pass the green beans?” Zoe asks him. They’re basically right in front of her. 

“Can you let go of your girlfriend’s hand for two seconds and grab them yourself?” Connor spits. 

“Connor,” his dad says, his tone warning. 

“Why are you being such an asshole today?” Zoe asks. “Seriously who pissed you off?”

“Fuck you,” Connor says. 

“Fuck  _ you, _ ” Zoe returns. 

“Both of you, cut it out,” his dad says wearily. 

Connor gets up from the table. 

“You’ve barely eaten anything,” Larry protests. He looks pissed. 

“I’m not fucking hungry,” he says. 

“Connor you  _ need  _ to eat,” his dad says. “Sit down and finish your food.”

“No,” he says. 

He starts to walk away. 

“Connor, get your ass back here and eat something,” Larry says. “Or I won’t let you go see Evan tonight.”

Connor stops. 

“This house is a fucking nightmare,” he announces. Then he leaves. 

Goes out to the driveway and smokes two cigarettes so fast he makes himself dizzy. 

He knows he should go and apologize to his dad. And Zoe. And Sabrina too. He’s being a dickhead. 

He doesn’t care. 

He’s in a mood. 

He decides to go over and see Evan. He’s in the pool house, sitting up in bed and frowning at a book. He’s having a hard time reading because he had fucking  _ brain surgery.  _

“Hey,” Evan says when he comes inside. He’s smiling. “How was your day?”

“Shitty,” Connor says. He kicks his shoes off and goes to sit beside Evan. Evan kisses him the minute he’s settled on the bed. “School fucking sucks without you.”

Evan pulls a face. “I’m sorry.”

Connor shrugs. 

He stupidly feels like crying. 

They just kind of sit there for a while. Not really talking. Evan rests his head on Connor’s chest and Connor listens to him breathe and tries to let go of his shitty mood. 

Evan doesn’t deserve to see him all pissy and pathetic like this. Evan deserves a better person. He deserves fucking everything and Connor’s just. Not enough. Connor’s bad at this shit. He’s super shitty at all of it. 

But then Evan kisses him softly. And they keep kissing, properly making out, sinking back against the mattress and kissing a lot and Evan wraps his arms around Connor tightly and Connor likes it when he does that. He likes it a lot. 

“I love you,” he murmurs when Evan pulls away to kiss the side of Connor’s head. 

Evan freezes. 

Shit. 

Connor told himself he wasn’t going to keep saying it because Evan always looks at him like he’s insane when he does. But it just bursts out of him. He just looks at Evan and he suddenly just can’t  _ not  _ say it. He just can’t stop the words from happening. 

“Oh. Cool,” Evan says. 

_ Cool?  _

Connor pulls away. He feels his bad mood come back forcefully. He feels so fucking stupid. “Cool?” He chokes out. 

Evan’s cheeks go pink. “S-s-sorry. I…”

_ Why don’t you love me?  _

Connor realizes with horror that his eyes are stinging. “I… I love you and that’s. Cool? Okay. That’s…  _ okay _ .”

Evan looks at him helplessly. “Connor….”

He never stutters when he says Connor’s name. Suddenly that feels like it means appropriately nothing. Like this whole thing is… nothing. Cool. It’s. Cool. 

“I just… I don’t understand,” Connor says. “Do you… what is this to you?”

Evan opens and closes his mouth a few times. “I…. I. I m-m-mean…”

“‘Cool’ is not what you say when someone says I love you, Evan,” Connor says. He’s in tears. He’s crying like an idiot because Evan doesn’t love him. Evan doesn’t love him if he did he would say it. Connor’s so stupid. He  _ always  _ does this. Why is he like this? Why is he fundamentally unlovable? How is he always getting this wrong? 

Seriously how is it even statistically possible that he’s got such a huge failure rate at loving people? At being loved? Fuck, even his own mother doesn’t love him, why does he expect Evan to feel that way about him?

“I just… help me understand,” Connor says stupidly, trying to act like he’s not crying, like he’s not freaking out. “I love you and you… you just don’t feel the same?” He doesn’t want to push or pressure him but he keeps telling Evan that he loves him and Evan keeps acting like he brought him the  _ mail.  _ Like it doesn’t matter. 

“I… I d-d-d-d-don’t know,” Evan says. He looks upset too. “I’ve never… I d-don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I… fuck, you must think I’m so fucking pathetic,” Connor says, crying hard enough that the words are a struggle to get out. “You think I’m an idiot. I’m so fucking  _ desperate.  _ Fuck. Fuck. You probably don’t even  _ like  _ me.”

“Of course I like you,” Evan says. He’s trying to pull Connor in close to him but Connor resists. “You’re. You’re like. The m-most important person in my life. I’ve never felt the-the way I feel about you.”

“Then… then why won’t you say it back?” Connor sobs. He knows he’s not being fair, he knows that you can’t force someone to say they love you but he can’t stop himself. “Why can’t you just say you love me back?”

“I… I don’t. I d-don’t-”

“Help me understand,” Connor cries. “Is it the gay thing? Is it… is  _ me?  _ Did I say it too fast, did I freak you out? Please just tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it, please.” 

Evan shakes his head. “You… y-y-you didn’t.”

Connor is suddenly extremely aware that he is going to throw up. It’s not debatable. His throat is thick and he can't breathe and he’s absolutely going to throw up. 

He rushes off of Evan’s bed and races to the bathroom. He throws up four times. It’s kind of violent. His stomach hurts. His throat hurts. He’s still fucking crying like a pussy, like a pathetic fucking baby because he’s in love and it’s not going well. 

When he looks up from the toilet, Evan is standing in the doorway. His eyes are glassy. He looks like he’s in pain. “Connor. I’m. I’m so sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be up,” Connor says, his voice dull. He gets off the floor. Flushes the toilet and rinses out his mouth. 

“I’m fine,” Evan protests. “Y-you’re upset.”

Connor helps Evan back to bed. 

Then he puts on his shoes. 

“Connor, don't go. Please. I’m sorry.” He blinks a few times. “Can’t w-we talk about this?”

“I need to just…” Connor’s so embarrassed he can’t even look Evan in the face. “I’m sorry. I’ll come back tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Evan says. He sounds so damn sad. Connor hates himself for it. 

“Cool,” Connor says. He’s a dick. He’s an absolute dick. 

And then he goes. 

* * *

Fuck. 

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. 

_ Way to go, asshole, _ the voice in his head sneers at him.  _ You’re a fucking joke. Connor’s done with you, you know that? He’s done, and he has every right to be fucking done because you’re a fucking moron.  _

He hasn’t got the energy to fight the voice right now. 

Because he’s just… 

Fuck. 

Fuck, Connor left, he’s probably not coming back, all because Evan can’t say three fucking words. 

Three words. 

They're just three words. Why can’t he say them? 

What’s wrong with him what’s wrong with him why can’t he say it? 

Just… say it. 

It’s not that hard. 

It can’t be that hard why is he making it hard?

Connor thinks Evan doesn’t love him. That feels like a punch to the chest. He hates that. He hates that in every fucking molecule of his body, the idea that Connor thinks Evan doesn’t love him. 

Because it’s not that. 

It’s just…

It’s not. 

It’s not that he doesn’t. 

He knows…

He knows that saying “I don’t love you” would be a lie. 

But he can’t say “I love you”.

Why? 

Why the fuck can’t he do it? Why can’t he do it?

Connor’s done. Connor’s done because Evan’s stupid and weak and pathetic and he’s ruined it all, ruined everything, and what was the point of any of this if Evan can’t…

Evan climbs to his feet on shaking limbs. 

Wraps a blanket around his shoulders. He’s cold, all of a sudden. 

He knows that he should just call, because Heidi keeps telling him that all he has to do is call if he needs her, but she’s not even that far away, and he needs to get better at walking anyway, so he heads out of the pool house and starts the short distance to the side door to the main house. 

He barely makes it two steps before Heidi notices. 

She’s sitting at the kitchen table. Her eyes widen when she sees him and she’s immediately up, opening the door and at his side, basically dragging him back into the pool house. 

His limbs are screaming from the effort and she wraps the blanket around him tighter and tells him he should have called. 

Puts him back to bed then sits on the edge next to him, looking at him carefully. 

“Sweetheart, is everything okay?”

Evan shakes his head. 

“I f-fucked up,” he says, his voice shaking. “I-I-I-I-I f-f-f-f-f-fucked up, Connor h-h-h-h-hates me-”

“I saw him leave,” Heidi says with a frown. “What happened?”

“He s-s-s-said I love you,” Evan replies miserably. “And I-I-I-I…” He can’t look at her. 

“What did you say?” Heidi asks after a moment.

He feels his face burn. “I s-said cool.”

“You said cool?”

“Which w-was ob-obviously the wrong  _ fucking  _ th-thing.”

Heidi doesn’t laugh at him, which he appreciates. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry.”

“I j-just c-can’t say it to him,” Evan tries to explain. “B-because I d-don’t know if I…”

Heidi tilts her head. “You don’t know if you love him.”

Evan shakes his head. “It’s n-not even that, I… I don’t know if I kn-know what love even is? Or, like… I d-don’t know if I…” He can’t look at Heidi right now. “I d-don’t know if I can… can love someone, I d-don’t… I don’t really un-understand what it means and I c-can’t say it if I don’t  _ know.” _

Heidi’s quiet for a long time. 

Then she moves to sit next to Evan in bed, on top of the covers. She wraps her arm around him and pulls him close, letting him curl up against her like a little kid. 

It makes him feel better almost instantly. 

Not, like, great, but… better. 

“David said I love you first,” Heidi says conversationally. “He said it over dinner at this romantic restaurant. And I just… froze.” 

Evan feels something inside him release a little. “You did?”

Heidi laughs. “Like a deer in headlights. It was not my proudest moment. He was just sitting there, looking at me, and finally, he was just like ‘can you say something?’.”

Evan blinks. “What did you say?” 

Heidi smiles a little sheepishly. “Should we get cheesecake?” 

“Seriously?”

“Like I said,” Heidi continues, “not my proudest moment.”

“I didn’t say anything the first time,” Evan admits. “And the second time, I… I said thank you?”

“Well, that was very polite.”

“And today I said ‘cool’,” Evan says, feeling disgusted at himself. “What the fuck kind of response to I love you is that? What’s wrong with me?”

Heidi’s quiet for a moment. She pulls him a little closer. “Nothing’s wrong with you,” she says gently. “You’re just not there yet. And that’s okay. You’re seventeen. And he shouldn’t be pressuring you into saying it when you’re not ready.”

“He’s not,” Evan feels compelled to say. “He’s not pressuring me, he just…” He sighs. “I think he… I don’t think he says it for a response.” He rests his head on Heidi’s shoulder. “He’s not, like, s-saying it with the expectation that I s-say it b-back, he’s n-n-n-never…” He lets out a shaky breath. “Sometimes I think he says it because he can’t  _ not _ . It just… tumbles out of him. He’s not trying to m-make me feel bad.” 

“Okay,” says Heidi, in this tone of voice that makes Evan feel like she doesn’t believe him. 

“He’s not. I swear.”

Heidi sighs. Kisses the top of his head. “You’re seventeen,” she reminds him. “This is your first real relationship, right? And it’s… well, it hasn’t exactly been smooth sailing. There’s a lot of emotion and intensity and… it’s not fair of him to expect you to be able to say I love you straight away. It’s okay if you don’t want to say it.”

“I do want to say it,” Evan says immediately, without even thinking about it. “I just… want to be sure that I mean it.”

Heidi smiles at him. “That makes a lot of sense.”

They just sit for a while. And Evan thinks about those three words. 

Thinks about what they mean. That they don’t always mean the same thing, but that they’re not words he can ever say lightly. 

“The way I f-feel about Connor is… it’s d-different,” he says cautiously. “It’s… when I say I love you to Connor, it’ll mean something different to when I…”

He trails off. 

Looks at Heidi.

“I love you,” he tells her. “The same way I loved my mom. Okay?”

Heidi’s eyes fill with tears. She nods. “I love you too, kid.” She smiles at him, this big happy smile. “I love you so much, you have no idea.”

They sit there a little while longer. Let that just… rest. 

Let it breathe. 

Evan’s got a mom who loves him again. 

That’s… 

That’s huge. 

Overwhelming. 

He never thought he’d get this. 

Something inside him releases a little. Clicks into place. He still doesn’t think he can say it to Connor, but maybe he’s got another piece of the puzzle. Maybe he understands it a little more now. 

“So this is kind of weird,” he says after a moment, “but…”

“You want cheesecake?” Heidi says. 

Evan smiles. “You read my mind.”

Heidi kisses the top of his head. “I’ll be right back,” she says, climbing out of the bed. “I’ll go find us some cheesecake.”

“I love you,” Evan says because now that he’s said to Heidi, he’s not going to stop any time soon. 

Heidi smiles. Gets this huge shit-eating grin on her face. “Cool.” 

Evan throws a pillow at her as she leaves the pool house. 

* * *

Connor gets in his car and drives. He doesn’t even know where he thinks he’s going just that he needs to be. Not here. 

Just. 

Anywhere but fucking here. 

Part of him feels like he’s already ruined everything. He didn’t eat much. Puked up what he did. Pissed his dad and Zoe off. Hurt Evan’s feelings. 

Might as well just, like, go call up Jared Fucking Kleinman and get totally high. 

Oh except Jared’s been  _ arrested.  _ Jared has been expelled. Connor cut himself off getting Jared into trouble. 

He’s wrecked everything. 

But Connor doesn’t drive to meet up with one of the other people scrambling to take Jared’s place at school. Instead, he finds himself pulling into Alana Beck’s driveway. He’s not even sure why just… Sabrina’s got Zoe. Evan is… Evan. 

And Alana is like. Smart. She’ll… She’ll be good. She won’t let him go do something dumb like buy drugs off of whoever the new Jared is. 

Plus it’s not like he has other friends. He can’t exactly call up Laura from group and ask if she wants to get together and not eat or something. 

She doesn’t even know he’s gay. He couldn’t explain the Evan thing to her. 

Connor parks and gets out of the car. Rings the doorbell of Alana’s house. 

The Becks are the only family in town with a white housekeeper. Connor always sort of wondered if that was intentional. Her name is Greta. She’s from Sweden. She tells Connor to wait by the door and she’ll fetch Alana. 

She comes downstairs already in her pajamas. Connor feels like a dick. Is it that late? He checks on his phone. It’s only seven-thirty. 

Alana looks embarrassed. “I was. Having a spa night,” she explains. Upon closer inspection, she has her hair all wrapped up in a scarf. She smells like butterscotch. “My parents are away for a long weekend so it’s just me. I thought I would treat myself to some… Is everything okay?”

“Do you think we could. Like. Hang out?” Connor asks. He feels so stupid. He wishes he’d at least called first so she could blow him off more gently. 

But Alana nods. Starts to head up the stairs. Connor takes off his Chucks and follows her. 

He’s never been inside of her house before. He’s picked her up a few times and been to the Becks’ beach house, but he’s never been inside the place where they live. There’s a lot of art on the walls. A lot of paintings. 

Alana gives him an awkward smile. “My dad’s a collector.” 

“That’s cool.” 

Connor follows Alana to her bedroom. She has one of those princess beds with a canopy. Her one wall is covered in awards and certificates and trophies. The walls are painted a bright blue. Alana looks a little bit embarrassed. 

“Your room is cool.”

She looks down at her feet. “Thanks.” 

“What were you doing before I got here?” Connor asks awkwardly. “I should have called first. I’m a dick. I’m sorry.” 

“You’re okay.” Alana smiles. “I was watching  _ The L Word  _ and I was going to do a face mask.”

Connor nods. “We can keep doing that?”

Alana smiles. She catches him up on what’s going on with the show and then decides he should do a face mask too. Connor pulls his hair off of his face. Alana paints some green goop on his face, then hers, and they watch a little of the episode. 

“Hang on. I know what will make this better,” Alana says suddenly. Connor isn’t sure where this is going, honestly. He half expects her to pull out a copy of  _ The Second Sex  _ and start reading passages in the original French. 

Alana goes under her bed. Produces her feminist bookstore bong and a baggie of weed. 

Connor smiles. 

That is… exactly what he needs right now. 

They get baked and keep watching this lesbian show. Alana suggests that Connor consider watching  _ Queer as Folk.  _ “There is a very questionable relationship between an adult man and a teenager, but overall I think it paints an entertaining portrait of queer lives. But the focus is primarily on men, which might be more of your area of interest.” 

“Are they hot?” Connor asks. 

“I would say most of them are attractive, yes.” 

Halfway through an episode of  _ The L Word  _ they wash the masks off of their faces. Connor feels like his skin is too tight. 

“That’s how you know it’s working.” 

“That cannot be right,” Connor says, but he shrugs. His face looks a bit shiny in the mirror but he guesses it doesn’t look, like. Worse. 

“Hmm… your hair is kind of curly,” Alana says. 

“So?”

Alana assesses it for a moment. “Would it be okay if I touched your hair?”

Connor shrugs. Alana gently pulls down his awkward ponytail and kind of bunches his hair up in her fists. It’s gotten really long, he notices. It’s grown past his shoulders. 

“Your hair is very dry,” Alana says. “Curls need to be hydrated.” 

And then somehow she’s putting some stuff that smells like butterscotch in his hair. It’s kind of nice. Having her play with his hair. Nobody has ever done that before. She rubs the butterscotch stuff through the ends of his hair and then pulls it into a loose braid. She jokes that he looks like an elf from _ Lord of the Rings.  _ Even though they’re a little stoned, Connor consents to Alana taking a few pictures of the two of them pulling silly faces together. They make sure to stash the bong before they take any pictures, just to be safe. 

They finish the episode of  _ The L Word _ . Connor decides that if he were a lesbian, he would totally be an Alice. 

“First of all, Alice is bisexual,” Alana says primly. “And second off, you are obviously a Shane.” 

“I am not a Shane!” Connor protests. “I don’t sleep with everyone I meet.”

Alana raises her eyebrows. “You slept with Reg the first time the two of you met,” She says. 

“That was  _ one  _ time.” 

“You are such a Shane.” 

“How dare you, I am very clearly an Alice!” 

Alana sighs. “I think I’m a Bette,” She says, a little glumly. “Nobody likes Bette.” 

“Hold on now, Bette is a badass,” Connor says. “She like. Takes no prisoners. Runs an art gallery and shows off kick-ass art. She’s driven and smart and she  _ wishes  _ she was as cool as you are.” 

Alana smiles. “Thanks for watching this with me. I know lesbians aren’t your thing.” 

Connor shrugs. “They’re not  _ not  _ my thing. I just don’t want to like. Make out with them or whatever.” 

Not long after, Alana admits to having never once listened to Fall Out Boy when Connor starts talking about how much he likes their new album. 

“What?” Connor says. “That’s… not fucking acceptable.” 

He puts his iPod on and they listen through  _ From Under the Cork Tree  _ first. Alana frowns. “I don’t know what this man is saying.” 

Connor rolls his eyes and tries to explain that Patrick Stump is too punk rock for diction, but she tells him that is “not a thing” and that “nobody is too punk rock for diction, Connor.” Connor sighs and they end up googling the lyrics and Alana ends up smiling. 

“Actually, these lyrics are rather… complex,” Alana says thoughtfully. “Oh I quite like this now that I can understand him.” 

Connor grins. 

“Connor. You seem… not okay,” Alana says as the album finishes. 

That’s a fucking understatement. “Evan. He doesn’t love me.” Connor shakes his head. “I told him… I keep telling him that I love him. And today he said… ‘cool.’”

Alana flinches. “Ouch.”

“Yeah…” Connor sighs. “So… either he can’t say it or he. Doesn’t want to.”

Alana frowns. “I mean. It makes sense.”

Connor blinks. “What?”

“Well it’s pretty obvious he cares about you a lot,” Alana says nodding. “But Evan’s had a really hard time. From everything Evan’s told us, there wasn’t a lot of love there when he was growing up. No wonder he doesn’t think he’s there yet.”

Connor feels his face flush with shame. “Yeah.” He swallows hard. 

“Also romantic love is completely illogical and terrifying,” Alana says matter of factly. Connor stares. 

He scoffs. “Cool. Thanks. That’s… super helpful.” Alana is not exactly offering him a lot of sympathy here. 

“Well, come on. It has its own set of risks, you know? Being in love. With your family... they  _ have _ to love you. Or at least they’re supposed to. And that’s like our baseline, you know? For understanding love.”

Connor swallows uncomfortably. “Yeah. Well. My mom can’t stand me so… I’m not sure your argument holds water, exactly.” He feels his eyes sting. “I don’t even know if she loves me.”

“But you have your dad and your sister, and you know  _ they  _ love you,” Alana looks sad, but she presses on. “ _ Evan’s _ mom died when he was little and his dad’s a piece of shit, Connor. So he’s flying blind. He’s got no baseline to hold onto, nowhere to start averaging out his data or whatever.”

Connor rolls his eyes. “Shame you’re gay. You and Evan would make a great pair,” he mutters. “Facts and data and… whatever.” 

“What I’m saying is,” Alana goes on, ignoring the interruption. “That yes, your mom is awful. And so is Sabrina’s for that matter. The two of you have had to deal with… way too much pain at the hands of your mothers. But you have other family. You have people who love you. You always have. You have a baseline that Evan just… doesn’t.”

“Evan has Heidi,” He protests in a small voice. 

“Yeah, and until a few weeks ago he didn’t even know if he could  _ stay  _ with her,” Alana says reasonably. “And he didn’t meet her until he was sixteen. That’s a long time to go without a stable home. A long time to go without affection and love.” 

Connor feels like such an asshole. 

Alana sighs. 

“I mean. Obviously Evan’s been traumatized by his past. He’s been through a lot of abuse and neglect. It’s clear to me that he cares about you very much. He most likely loves you. He probably just needs time to figure it out.”

Connor nods. 

Fuck. What is the  _ matter _ with him? 

Of course… Of course… Why is he so bent out of shape about this? Why is he becoming yet another person in Evan’s life who is hurting him? He doesn’t want to hurt him, he loves him. It’s just… It’s hard. It’s so fucking hard to love someone who hears you say it and responds with “Cool.” It’s hard not to hear it back. 

Connor swallows again. His throat hurts from the weed. His eyes are stinging. Alana’s bringing him all of these indisputable facts and spelling out all of the ways that Connor is being a selfish prick but there is still this hole inside of him that keeps growing and growing because he.   
He just wants Evan to love him back. 

He just wants… 

“I think something is seriously wrong with me,” Connor whispers. His eyes are stinging. “I know all of this. I know it but I… I just…” He tries to wipe his eyes but it’s no use. Tears have formed and fallen. “I just. I love him so much. And I j-just want him to love me back.”

“Oh… Okay,” Alana says. She sounds very uncomfortable. “I see… I see now that trying to explain this with logic wasn’t helpful for you. I am very sorry that you are hurting. That… sucks.” She tentatively puts her hand on Connor’s shoulder. “I am going to hug you now. Is that okay?”

Connor almost laughs at how fucking weird that sounds. But he nods and pulls Alana in for a hug. She hugs tightly. She smells like weed and the facemask and that stuff she put in his hair. 

He hangs out at Alana’s for a few more hours. He and Alana split an entire pizza she pulls out of their freezer in their need for munchies. He sticks around for another episode of  _ The L Word.  _ Until his high wears off. 

He does admittedly feel better having talked to Alana. 

She hugs him again when he gets up to leave. 

It’s late. Almost midnight. His dad has texted a few times. The first couple were pissed off but since then they’ve turned worried. Connor texts to say he’s on his way home. Asks if it’s okay if he stays with Evan tonight. 

His dad says it’s fine but that they’re going to have to talk in the morning. 

Connor supposes that’s okay. 

He gets home and parks his car, then cuts across the lawn into Heidi and Evan’s yard. Back by the pool house. He knocks tentatively, then uses his key to open the door. They keep it locked at night, even though it’s probably not necessary. 

Evan is fast asleep in bed when Connor gets there. 

He looks peaceful. Happy. Safe. It makes Connor just… love him more. Makes his heart ache with how much he loves him. 

He just wants Evan to be okay. 

He just wants Evan to be okay and be happy and he… he wants it to be with him. With Connor. He doesn't think that’s too much to want. He doesn’t think it makes him too selfish or horrible. 

Maybe it does. 

Connor locks the pool house door. Kicks his chucks off on the floor. Shimmies out of his stupid skinny jeans and climbs into bed beside Evan, pressing himself against Evan’s back and pulling him close. He rests his head on the pillow beside Evan’s head and whispers, “I love you.” 

Evan turns over. His eyebrows knit together. “You’re back,” He says, sounding… relieved. 

“I’m sorry I left. I’ve… been an asshole.” 

Evan shakes his head a little. “No,” He says sleepily. He pulls Connor closer, rests his head against Connor’s chest. He’s all soft and warm and sleepy like this. Connor kisses him softly and Evan lets out a sigh. “You smell good.” 

Connor laughs a little awkwardly. “Thanks. Alana put something in my hair.” 

“That’s… good,” Evan says. He’s basically asleep again. He holds on a little tighter. “Stay. Please? I want you to… to stay.” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Connor says. He pulls Evan a little closer. Kisses his forehead. “I love you. I’m staying right here, okay?”

“Okay,” Evan breathes. “Good.” 

* * *

Heidi and Larry have a standing phone call during their lunch hour. Heidi’s only working part-time right now and does most of her hours at home, but Larry’s back at work properly and they use their lunch hour to check in most days. 

Heidi opens their call on this particular day by asking how Connor is. 

Which means the kid’s done something to piss Heidi off. She’s not as subtle as she likes to think. 

“What did he do?” Larry asks. Connor was in a mood yesterday. He got detention from his favorite teacher and left dinner all pissed off. Never came home that night (though he did at least text Larry to say he was staying with Evan in the pool house). 

Heidi sighs. “It’s… just that. I think Connor’s being a bit… unfair to Evan.”

Larry does his best to just. Listen and not immediately jump to Connor’s defense. This is his kid she’s talking about. He’s gonna need to hear a pretty fucking good reason to believe her. 

That’s a bit of a shift. Larry will own that. 

“Well, he keeps telling Evan that he loves him.”

Larry’s not surprised. Connor is obviously head over heels for Evan. Nobody would take such big risks if it wasn’t for love. 

“I see,” he says. Larry resists the urge to tell Heidi to calm down. 

“It’s just… Evan’s been through a lot.”

“I’m aware.”

“I just… it’s a bit ridiculous, don’t you think? They’re very young.”

Larry can’t help but laugh a little. “That they are… but being young doesn’t make you immune to falling in love.”

Heidi scoffs. “I just worry he’s trying to pressure Evan to say it back.”

Oh. 

Larry supposes he hadn’t considered that. 

But he dismisses it quickly. He knows his son. He wouldn’t want to coerce an “I love you” out of Evan. He is just… dumb and young and wears his heart on his sleeve. 

He didn’t know Evan wasn’t saying it back though. That makes Larry so. Sad for Connor. 

His poor kid has been pretty unlucky in that department. 

“Not to be all ‘my son would  _ never,’ _ ” Larry says carefully. “But Connor obviously cares about Evan a lot. He has since the minute they met. I told you how he reacted when I asked him to keep his distance.”

Heidi “hmm”s. 

She takes in a breath. “I just think… like. They’re seventeen, Larry. They’re not in love. They just need to… sleep.”

Larry laughs. “I’m sorry high school was so hard for you, Herzberg.”

“You’re not funny.”

“I might disagree,” Larry says. “Just. Heidi. I know it’s weird. To imagine your kid could possibly be in love. You didn’t give birth to Evan, sure, but he’s your  _ kid _ . You want to let him be a kid. It’s scary to think they’re already dealing with these sorts of big feelings. Because they  _ are  _ young, we can’t deny that. But being young doesn’t exempt you from falling in love.”

Heidi doesn’t say anything for a moment. 

Larry presses on. “You know Connor’s got his heart out for the whole world to see. You’ve known him since he was a baby. He’s never been good at hiding how he feels.”

Heidi sighs. “I don’t like that it’s upsetting my kid.”

“I completely understand,” he says. “Honestly I’m not wild about it upsetting  _ my  _ kid either. I mean, is it so horrible that he’s in love and wants Evan to love him back? If it were in his shoes, I’d be upset,” And Larry’s being honest here. He hates to know that Connor is hurting because he loves Evan and Evan might not return his feelings. 

Larry is suddenly struck by the memory of David appearing in his office nearly twenty years ago and shamefacedly telling Larry that he told Heidi that he loved her and she responded by talking about cheesecake. 

Evan really  _ is  _ Heidi’s kid. Blood or not, they have that in common. That caution, that carefulness with their hearts. 

“Do you remember when David told you he loved you for the first time?” Larry says. 

Heidi laughs. “Oh god. Yes. I just told Evan about my cheesecake response.”

“Right but that’s how  _ you  _ felt. You didn’t see how… embarrassed and crushed David was the next morning. He came into my office telling me how he blew it with the girl of his dreams. How she was only interested in  _ cheesecake. _ ”

“I told him I loved him the  _ next day, _ ” Heidi protests. 

“With a list of the ten things you loved about him, no less,” Larry says. He’s smiling. “But that gap? Between the cheesecake and the list? David was mortified and ...hurt. It’s a big deal to put your heart out there and not get the answer you want. And he was much older than seventeen.” He sighs. “I’ll talk to Connor but maybe you could… cut the kid a little slack? He’s in love and his relationship with Evan has been anything but easy. He’s allowed to feel hurt and sad that it’s not going amazingly.”

“Evan did say he didn’t think Connor was  _ actually  _ pressuring him.”

Larry laughs. “Oh, I see. You’re being overprotective.”

“I think I’m allowed, don’t you? I’ve got sixteen years where nobody else was to make up for.”

“You’re right,” Larry says. “But maybe we don’t mention to the kids that you called me to tell me to get Connor to back off? I get the feeling they’d both be mortified.”

Heidi sighs. “I’m just not ready for him to be  _ in love _ .”

“Just wait until sex is on the table,” Larry says with a laugh. “Let me tell you, it’s a hoot and a half. I’ve had to have several very uncomfortable conversations with Zoe about it in the last few weeks. I thought she might genuinely die of embarrassment. I’m sure it was worse for her.”

Heidi replies, a frown in her voice, “Connor’s had sex before.”

Larry flinches. He figured as much. He  _ lived with  _ his ex-boyfriend at boarding school. Larry’s not stupid. “Well, I’ll have that uncomfortable talk with him then soon. He’s a good kid, Heidi, even if he’s a bit… impulsive and sensitive. He’s not gonna try to hurt your kid.”

“Better not.”

“Easy mama bear!” Larry laughs. “I’ll talk to him, okay? But I think this one is best handled… a little more hands-off. Let them come to us, you know? I mean this is why you even know about this, right? Evan told you. He came to you. He’ll keep coming to you when he needs it.”

Heidi sighs. “I don’t like it when you’re right.”

“You never have,” Larry says affectionately. 

That evening, Larry goes up to Connor’s bedroom and knocks on his door. He’s on his laptop, sitting on his bed and frowning slightly at something when Larry opens the door. “Everything okay?” He asks. 

Connor shrugs. Shuts his computer. “People are idiots.” 

Larry can’t deny that. 

He grabs a seat at the end of Connor’s bed. “So. What was going on yesterday?”

Connor’s face falls slightly. “It was just… a bad day.”

Larry nods. “In the future, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t take off like that without saying where you’re going.” 

“I know. I’m sorry.” He pulls his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them. “I fucked up.”

“At least you were safe,” Larry says. He pauses. “Right?”

Connor nods. “I went over to Alana’s and we… ate frozen pizza and watched TV.”

Larry relaxes. “Good.” 

It’s nice when his kid does something normal and boring and teenaged. It’s. So good. 

“So,” Larry says, a little uncomfortable. He picks up a Koosh ball that is just sitting there on Connor’s bedside table. Fiddles with it. “Heidi says Evan was kind of upset when you left yesterday…”

Connor, if possible, curls in tighter on himself. His cheeks turn a dull pink. “It’s stupid. I’m being… stupid.” 

Larry waits to see what else Connor will say. 

Connor’s cheeks get even redder. His eyes get glassy. “I told him I love him,” he says, sounding embarrassed and sad. “And he said… ‘cool.’”

Larry blinks. “Cool?”

“I know,” Connor says, hiding his face. “I know. I’m being an idiot like. Evan’s all… he’s had so much shit happen and I’m. An asshole for expecting him to say it back. I… suck. I’m being so stupid.”

Larry reaches out and puts his hand on Connor’s shoulder. “You’re not stupid.”

Connor doesn’t look up. His hair falls over the sliver of his face that Larry could still see, and it makes his ears stick out. They’re bright pink. “Just… what if he doesn’t. Or-or doesn’t  _ ever -? _ ” Connor sounds sad. And frustrated. “I mean he’s probably not even  _ gay  _ and I’m just an idiot who-who is stupid and keeps blurting it out and he’s just sitting there trying to figure out how to tell me to go away.”

“Hey, bud, come on,” Larry says with a sad smile. He’s doing his best not to laugh. It’s kind of sad but also strangely endearing. To see his kid all worked up about whether the boy he likes likes him back. Loves him back. “I don’t think that’s what’s going on.”

Connor doesn’t look up. 

“Look, I know she didn’t give birth to him, but Evan is  _ totally  _ Heidi’s kid. You’ve heard about how she reacted to the first time David said he loved her right?”

Connor mutters, “Fucking… cheesecake. He told that story a lot.”

“Exactly. This is probably Evan’s cheesecake moment, alright? They’re a lot alike, him and Heidi.”

Connor sniffles. Keeps his face hidden. “I’m  _ really _ stupid.”

“No you’re not.” Larry grins a little to himself. “And… the blurting out how you feel? You’re not alone, alright? When your mom and I were on our fifth date I blurted out that I was in love with her. We’d known each other for… maybe three weeks? It was mortifying.”

Connor looks up at Larry, his face pinched and confused. His cheeks are still red, eyes a little damp. “How did the two of you end up married then?”

Larry himself sometimes wonders this. “Well. Because she loves me back. It took her a while to figure it out. And it… was terrible, honestly, waiting around to see if that was how she felt. But we got there in the end.”

Connor wipes his eyes. Frowns. “Are you and mom going to break up?”

Larry sighs. He walked right into that one. Should have seen it coming. Damn smart kid. 

He doesn’t know. He and Cynthia have barely spoken since she checked herself back into rehab. She calls to ask after the kids. He calls with updates. They don’t talk about  _ them.  _ Their relationship or the lies or the hurt and the anger. They don’t talk about David and Cynthia’s obsession after his death, how she genuinely ruined her friendship with Heidi out of paranoia and hurt. They barely talk about the drinking. 

He doesn’t know. 

A divorce would require a conversation and it seems that the two of them aren’t there quite yet. 

“I don’t know,” Larry says, putting his arm around Connor’s skinny shoulders. “I don’t want that. And I’m not sure what your mom wants. But we… we haven’t been on the same page for a while, your mom and I. And she has…. a lot of apologizing to do. And a lot of hurt to make up for with you kids. Right now I’m not sure that… that I even trust her.”

Connor nods. Frowns a bit. “I miss her. Is that weird? She’s been… sort of a bitch to me all year but. I miss her.”

Larry sighs. Pulls Connor to him for a tight but brief hug. “Me too bud. Me too.”

Connor sighs. 

Larry clears his throat. Lets go of Connor’s shoulders. “Alright so. Now I have to do something neither of us will like, but if we just keep our heads down I think we can get through it.”

Connor looks alarmed. 

“We should have… the talk.”

Connor’s face turns tomato red. “Please no.”

“Believe me, this hurts me far more than it hurts you,” Larry says. “But someday you’re going to-”

“Stop,  _ please _ , I’ve already googled it,” Connor says. He’s so red in the face Larry worries he might pass out. “I’ve already… I know this already.”

“Even so.” Larry clears his throat. “Are you and Evan. Having. Sex?”

“Jesus Christ,” Connor says under his breath. “Dad, he had  _ brain surgery  _ like. A few  _ weeks  _ ago. I’m not a total idiot.”

_ Thank god for small favors.  _

“Alright,” Larry says. “But. If you’re thinking about it….”

“Dad. Please. This is  _ horrible _ .”

Larry laughs a little. “I know, but I’m almost done. I swear.” He clears his throat. “Just. When it does happen. With Evan it… whoever the guy is. Both people… well. I suppose.  _ All _ people. If there’s ever… more people.” He clears his throat again. Lord, he should have written this down when he said it to Zoe. “Look, what I’m saying is that everyone should. Want what is happening to be happening. Everyone should be… having a good time. Enjoying themselves.”

“Yeah, got it, no means no and whatever,” Connor mumbles. 

“But. That’s not all,” Larry says awkwardly. “That’s just. Part of it. You should be… checking in. As it happens. Make sure everyone is still okay. It’s not a one and done deal, okay? And. You can’t just rely on what they say, you know? If they seem… uncomfortable or embarrassed or whatever, you should stop and check in immediately. And you should check in after as well okay? Sometimes things are alright in the moment but after… they don’t seem as great, yeah? You want to be respectful before, during, and after. Yeah?”

Connor nods. “Yeah, I.” His cheeks are so red. He looks like he’s running a high fever. “I know that. I promise, I definitely know that.”

“Good,” Larry says. “Now uh. About condoms-”

“Please stop talking,” Connor says, his hands over his ears. 

Larry presses on. 

“You should have them. Just in case. And maybe… practice. When you’re…  _ alone _ . How to. Put them on. They only work if you use them right.”

Connor nods quickly. “Got it. Sure. Can do.” 

“And. Uh. It’s not very Catholic of me to say but. There’s nothing like. Wrong. With having sex or… wanting to have sex. But there’s also nothing wrong with not wanting that too, alright?”

Larry appears to have stunned Connor into silence. 

“So. If and when you and Evan… decide to.” Larry clears his throat. Tries to remember how he phrased this with Zoe. She had been equally as mortified. But all of the parenting books he’s read say that if you try to outright ban sex in your home it is likely to result in worse sex. And not that Larry is like… excited by the idea of his kids having sex like. At all. Ever. But if they’re going to have it he wants it to be good. Healthy. Enjoyable. “I want you to be. Somewhere safe. Comfortable. Okay? So. You can have sex in your bedroom, as long as you are respectful of me and your sister and don’t… keep us up all night.”

Connor blinks in surprise. “What the fuck? You’re  _ joking  _ right?”

“I’m not. So. I’ll get you a lock for your door. For privacy. And I want you to. Know you can talk to me. If you have questions. And if I don’t know, we’ll find out. Sometimes… things don’t go well. Or they go really well. And you can tell me, okay? About any of it. If it goes well. If it  _ doesn’t.  _ If you want to talk about any of it, you can talk to me. But also you don’t have to. It’s. Up to you.”

Connor nods. “Okay.” He still looks so embarrassed. 

“Okay there. We did it and it wasn’t so bad.”

Connor gives him a pale smile. “Speak for yourself, old man, that definitely shaved ten years off my life.” He shakes his head. “Maybe you should practice before you put Zoe through this.”

Larry laughs. “I’m sorry to say she got my first attempt.”

Connor looks both embarrassed and affronted by this. “Seriously? I’m fucking older than her!”

“Well her girlfriend is over all the time and  _ Sabrina  _ didn’t just have brain surgery.”

“Oh my god,” Connor groans. 

“I love you, Connor.”

Connor smiles awkwardly. “Love you too.”

Larry kisses his son on the head and leaves him be in his bedroom. 

* * *

At lunch on Monday, Alana Beck is extremely stressed out. 

Zoe doesn’t think she and Alana are exactly  _ friends _ , but she feels kind of bad that this girl seems to be working into a tizzy about. Something. She is pouring over her laptop at lunch, muttering to herself and looking progressively more upset. 

Sabrina is also watching. “Alana?” She says softly. “What’s going on?”

“I’ve been distracted,” she says swiftly. “AP tests and everything happening… Prom is in two weeks and there’s still so much to organize!”

Sabrina nods sympathetically. “What about the rest of the committee?”

Alana’s back stiffens. “Those girls are decidedly unhelpful. Much more concerned about getting hotel rooms for after and where they’ll get their hair done.”

Zoe eats a fry. “I’m surprised you’re like. Chill with prom.”

Alana looks at her suddenly. “Why?”

“Well, I dunno, isn’t it just another way that the heteropatriarchy inserts itself into our lives? Not to mention all of the ways it’s become more like a wedding. It’s practically expected that you have sex for the first time on prom night. It’s a cultural script or whatever.”

Alana looks at Zoe like she has grown a second head. 

What. Zoe can  _ google.  _ If she’s gonna be gay now, shouldn’t she walk the talk and talk the walk and. Whatever. Lesbians are all feminists, aren’t they? 

“You’re not wrong,” Alana says slowly. 

“I’m just. Surprised you’re helping to plan it.”

“I’m… my mom suggested I find activities with more. Traditional appeal. So my college applications are more. Well rounded.”

Zoe nods. “That’s cool.”

“Also she agreed to let me intern at Planned Parenthood this summer if I was involved in at least one social activity this year.”

Zoe nods. “Planned Parenthood is cool… but weren’t they founded by a racist?”

Alana’s jaw drops. 

“What? I have the internet. I’m not a total idiot.”

Alana’s face seems to suggest that perhaps she thought otherwise. That’s annoying. She’s like. Sabrina’s best friend. She would prefer if she didn’t think Zoe was a total moron. 

Ugh. Whatever. 

“Are you going to prom?” Zoe asks Sabrina then. 

Something shifts in Sabrina’s face. 

“Oh. I dunno.” She tucks some hair behind her ear. “I guess. I didn’t think you’d want to go after… everything.”

Everything being the fact that everybody knows Zoe and Connor got Jared kicked out of school. People are… not happy. Zoe’s locker has been graffitied so many times that she’s stopped keeping her stuff in there. She keeps it in Sabrina’s locker. 

“Well. I’m only a sophomore. I can only go if I have a date who is an upperclassman. So.”

Sabrina nods. 

She doesn’t say anything else. 

Wait. Shit. 

“I mean… are you asking me?” Zoe says suddenly. 

Alana looks mortified and focuses back on her computer. Sabrina’s cheeks go pink. 

“I. Uh. I mean…” she shrugs. “You said you weren’t sure about being, like, out publicly or….”

Zoe swallows. Nods. It’s true. She’s not like. Ashamed. But she sort of thinks it would be best if she could get through the rest of the school without giving Madison another reason to laugh at her loudly in the halls. 

She’s not hiding. She’s not ashamed. 

She’s just. Not sure she’s ready. 

“Yeah. I mean. I guess.”

Something sort of sad takes hold on Sabrina’s face. “Of course.”

Zoe immediately feels guilty. 

They drop the conversation, but Zoe. Keeps thinking about it. 

Connor actually comes home for dinner that night and he nudges her shoulder when he spots her picking at the food in front of her. The food is fine but she’s just. 

Thinking about Sabrina wearing that sad smile. Thinking about the stuff Sabrina can’t have because Zoe’s not ready. 

“What’s up?”

“I think Sabrina wants to go to prom.”

Their dad looks up from the baked sweet potato on his plate and smiles a little. “Are you going to ask her?”

“No,” Zoe mumbled, embarrassed. “It’s  _ her  _ prom. I’m only a sophomore. Isn’t that… presumptuous?”

Connor gives her a look. “I mean. She’s the one who came out to everyone. Maybe she’s not sure you’d like. Wanna do that?”

Zoe feels her face burn. “Are you gonna go to prom?” She says then. 

Connor shakes his head. “Fuck no. It would be weird. I’ve never been to a school dance, and it’s not like Evan could go so. Why start going now?”

Zoe and Sabrina had gone to homecoming together as part of a group. It was before they were a thing. 

Sabrina seemed to have a great time. And she’d looked so pretty in her dark purple dress. 

“If you want to be her date, I think you gotta ask her,” her dad says gently. “Since it would require you to tell people that you’re together.”

Zoe sighs. Stabs her sweet potato. “Everyone at school hates me.”

Connor laughs. “Nah, they’re more pissed at me.  _ I’m  _ the one who got Jared expelled.”

And got arrested. People keep saying Connor probably loved being in jail so he could have all sorts of gay sex. Obviously none of them know he wasn’t even  _ in  _ jail. Just a holding cell for like. An hour. 

Zoe keeps mulling the question over. 

Thinks about it that night while she messes around on her guitar. She’s teaching herself some new music. Songs she knows Sabrina likes. She and Connor have weirdly similar taste in music. 

If she asks to be Sabrina’s date to prom, everyone will know. Everyone will know they’re dating. Everyone will know she’s… 

Zoe’s still not sure if she’s  _ gay.  _ Like. If she’s actually gay. But she loves Sabrina and she’s a girl so. She probably is. 

And if they go to prom, people will know. People will talk. 

Zoe keeps messing around with her guitar, practicing some song she knows Sabrina likes by a band called Wheatus. 

When a thought occurs to her. 

A potentially extremely stupid thought. 

But. 

Feeling bold, Zoe gets up and grabs her phone. Texts Alana Beck. 

Asks her if she knows anyone in the band or AV club that could help her out. 

* * *

Sabrina’s mom bought her a dress for junior prom right after cotillion. 

It’s gold. The color looks amazing against Sabrina’s skin. It shows off her boobs while still being tasteful. 

Sabrina has to admit, Lisa knows how to pick out clothing. Everything she’s ever bought for Sabrina has looked… really good.

The dress has been sitting there in her closet for months. 

And she doesn’t know if she’s even going to go. 

On one hand, she could go by herself. Help Alana make sure everything’s up to standard. It’d be a busy night, probably, but it’d be… fine. Maybe it’d even be fun. 

It just… doesn’t seem right to go to prom without her girlfriend. 

If Zoe actually is her girlfriend, that is. They haven’t ever had that conversation. They’ve decided they’re together, but they’ve never discussed being each others’ girlfriend. 

Sabrina knows Zoe loves her. 

But she also knows that Zoe’s not ready for people to know about them.

It’s not like there aren’t rumors. Zoe turning her back on the popular kids and getting Jared expelled has basically tanked her reputation at school, and she eats lunch with Alana and Sabrina now, so people see them together. 

And since Alana and Sabrina are both openly gay, it makes sense that people are saying that Zoe is, too. 

But it’s different to having official confirmation. 

It’s different to openly  _ saying  _ it. 

Sabrina doesn’t want to rush her. Doesn’t want to push her. After everything, she’s willing to wait for Zoe to be ready, so long as Zoe’s not… pretending. Not cutting Sabrina out of her life, not taking a public stand against her. 

This is an acceptable middle ground, as far as Sabrina’s concerned. 

Alana is less convinced. 

“She was awful to you,” Alana points out one afternoon when they’re studying together for biology. Since Evan’s injury, the two of them have been lab partners. “When you came out, she called you a dyke in front of everyone. Sure, she’s hanging out with us now, but… come on. She won’t openly tell people you’re together and I think that sucks.”

“That’s not fair,” Sabrina shoots back sharply. “She’s basically been cut off from her entire social circle. Her brother nearly died. She was there when they found Evan, she…” Sabrina swallows hard. “She’s been through a lot. You know she’s been through a lot.”

“I do,” Alana concedes unhappily. She bites her lip, frowns deeply. “And that’s why I’m not saying any of this to her face. I just… I don’t like that she won’t acknowledge your relationship publicly.”

“It’s not like she’s denying it.”

Alana raises her eyebrows. “Not denying something isn’t the same as saying it’s true.”

Sabrina isn’t sure if she agrees with that. 

Not denying something is basically an admission around here. 

And Sabrina doesn’t need some big gesture or anything. Even if she spends a lot of time daydreaming about slow-dancing with Zoe at prom, both of them all dressed up. 

Maybe next year. 

By next year, Zoe might be ready. 

Sabrina’s not going to push. Not after everything. 

It wouldn’t be fair. 

* * *

Alana doesn’t know why Zoe asked to talk to someone who knows stuff about audio equipment. Zoe didn’t say why. Just that she needed it. 

Alana introduces her to a couple of girls that Zoe will be honest and admit she’s never paid much attention to. Aimee Harding and Louise McKinnon. Apparently they play in a punk band with some girls who go to Newport Union. 

And they’re both gay. 

Which Zoe learns immediately when Aimee Harding rolls her eyes and says, “Aren’t you the bitch who called Sabrina Patel a dyke?”

Zoe feels her face heat up. 

She swallows and nods. “Yeah. That. That was me.”

“What do you want our help for?” Louise says, looking very miffed. 

Zoe looks at her flip flops. “The thing is that… Sabrina is. Uh. I’m in love with her.”

Aimee and Louise exchange a look. “Bullshit,” Aimee says. 

“It’s true,” Zoe says meekly. “I just. Got freaked out because… well. I’m sure you know about. My brother.”

Louise looks sympathetic. “People are really assholes to him.”

“I was an idiot. And I’ve apologized to Sabrina and… I just got scared because we were. Like. A secret and then she came out and… it doesn’t make it okay but. That’s what happened.”

Aimee crosses her arms over her chest. “And what does this have to do with us?”

Zoe explains. “I want to… to ask her to prom. In front of people. Because I know she thinks I’m embarrassed of us being together but I’m  _ not.  _ I just. I wasn’t  _ ready.  _ But I am now and… I need someone who. Knows music.”

Louise’s eyebrows go up. “Why?”

Zoe bites her lip. “I uh. Was thinking about. Uh. I play guitar and she’s like. The only person who has heard me play in years because I was embarrassed but…”

Louise smiles a little. “You wanna serenade her and ask her to the prom?”

Zoe nods. 

“You know this school is kind of garbage about same-sex couples going together, right?” Aimee says. 

“Only for boys,” Louise points out. “Because girls can go as like… gal pals or whatever. Bullshit. Okay. What did you wanna play?”

It takes a few days of practice for them to nail the song and organize how Zoe is going to do this. Aimee still doesn’t seem super thrilled to be helping her, keeps saying she’s only doing it because she likes Sabrina, but she does seem relatively impressed to see Zoe  _ can  _ actually play guitar and sing. 

Once they’ve got it all organized it just means that Zoe has to… actually do it. 

She’s scared. 

Once she does this, she can’t  _ undo  _ it. Once people know, they’ll all know. 

The only other person who knows is Connor. She tells him on the way to school on the day she’s planning to ask Sabrina. 

“I just. I’m scared about how people will react?”

Connor nods. Looks thoughtful. “But, Zo. Aren’t you  _ tired _ ?”

Zoe doesn’t understand. 

“All the stuff you need to do to hide this part of you. All the work it takes to act like. Straight and popular and whatever. It sounds  _ exhausting.  _ Aren’t you tired of it?”

Zoe  _ is.  _ She’s exhausted. She’s so sick of being scared all of the damn time. It’s exhausting. 

And really. Does she care? 

The only person whose opinion matters here is Sabrina. 

And Zoe has hurt her enough. She just wants to make her happy. 

They set up during lunch. Some people watch them soundcheck with interest but most people just ignore them. 

Zoe feels like maybe she might puke as she settles her guitar strap over her shoulder and nods at Aimee on the drums. 

Steps up to the mic and. 

_ Just play. You can do this.  _

Zoe positions herself in front of the microphone they’ve set up and she just. Lets the song take over. 

People start to pay attention pretty fast. Zoe can’t hear the whispers but she can’t  _ see  _ them happening. She can see Madison leaning over to Dana P. Probably saying something awful. 

Zoe ignores it. 

Focuses on playing, on singing. “‘Cause I’m just a teenage dirtbag, baby….”

Someone cheers from the crowd. 

Zoe looks up and sees that it’s Connor. He’s on his feet beside Sabrina. Who looks. 

Shocked. Confused. 

Maybe a little impressed? 

Zoe hopes she’s a little impressed. 

“Listen to Iron Maiden, baby, with me….”

* * *

Sabrina thinks she might be dreaming. Like, genuinely dreaming. Because Zoe is playing the guitar and singing in front of the entire school and she’s looking right at Sabrina. 

Looking right at her. 

Sabrina takes a moment to look down at herself to make sure she’s not, like, naked or whatever, because that’s the kind of shit that happens in dreams. 

She’s fully clothed. 

Thank fuck. 

Zoe’s voice rings across the room, clear and strong, and  _ fuck  _ she can really sing. Can really play guitar. She sounds amazing and she looks strong and confident and…

Real. 

She looks real. 

Like she’s who she’s supposed to be, standing behind a microphone singing her heart out. Singing a song that she  _ knows  _ Sabrina likes. 

This is legitimately one of Sabrina’s favorite songs and Zoe is crushing it. It’s this beautiful acoustic version that shows off Zoe’s amazing voice and is utterly captivating. It feels… overwhelming and intimate and like there’s no one else in the room but the two of them, which couldn’t be further from the truth because this is very public. 

Very, very public. 

Sabrina doesn’t know what’s happening. Why this is happening. What Zoe’s doing. 

All she knows is that Zoe looks confident. 

Happy. 

More beautiful than she’s ever been. 

The drums thin out a bit during the last verse, bringing the intensity of the entire song down, and Zoe’s guitar and voice take center stage. Sabrina can’t take her eyes off her. 

It takes her a moment to realize that Zoe’s not singing the right lyrics for the chorus. 

Zoe’s singing to _ her.  _

_ “Sabrina, I want to say that I'm yours, baby _

_ Let's go to prom, please don't say maybe _

_ I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby, like you” _

Sabrina feels her heart stop. 

Did she just…

Did that…

The drums come back in full force for the next bit and Zoe keeps singing, hitting the higher notes like it’s the easiest thing in the world. People are looking at her, she can tell, looking at her to find out how she’s going to react. 

Sabrina’s just trying not to cry. 

As the song comes to an end, it’s like her feet are moving without her having to even think about it. She’s walking toward the band set-up, walking toward Zoe and Zoe’s got this blazing look in her eyes that Sabrina’s never seen before. 

She’s so fucking beautiful. 

Zoe plays the last chord. A bunch of people start clapping and Sabrina can hear Connor cheering loudly, and another voice joining in that she’s pretty sure is Alana. 

“Did you mean it?” Sabrina asks as Zoe takes the guitar off her shoulders and puts it on a stand. 

Zoe looks right at her. “Absolutely,” she replies. There’s not a trace of hesitation. “What do you think?”

“Are you sure?” Sabrina has to ask. 

Zoe nods. Her cheeks are pink. “I’m sure. I love you.”

Sabrina smiles. This big smile that takes over her entire face. “Okay. Okay, yeah. Let’s do this. Let’s go to prom.” She takes another step toward her. Reaches out to take her hand hesitantly. 

And Zoe kisses her. 

In front of a room full of people. 

In front of the entire school. 

Kisses her like she means it. Soft and sweet.

It’s not a kiss that’s supposed to wind up guys at a party. It’s more than that. 

It’s a million times better than that. 

Something inside Sabrina’s chest loosens. Unwinds. Something that’s been scrunched up and tense for months just… releases. 

Zoe wants her. Just her. 

Wants her enough to say it in front of everyone. 

That’s…

The most amazing thing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "Teenage Dirtbag" by Wheatus.


	58. It’s A Strange Way of Saying I Know I’m Supposed to Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mothers Day has its highs and lows. Sabrina and Zoe go to prom.

Connor couldn’t sleep the night before. Just couldn’t sleep. He’s been thinking a lot. 

Mother’s Day is coming up. 

And Evan said to him once that he didn’t even have a single picture of his mom. Connor was able to find a copy of her obituary, archived online, but there’s no picture. But it does give him a lead. 

Because the obituary says Margaret Hansen was a graduate of Chino Public High School. 

Connor crawls out of bed with Evan early. Before he’d normally get up for school. He kisses Evan’s head and then goes and gets in his car. 

It takes about an hour to get to Chino with some of the normal morning traffic. 

He drives to the school based off of his memory. Gets a little bit turned around, but manages to find it after maybe ten minutes. He follows a school bus. Ditches his car a few blocks away from the school and then just… blends in with the kids milling around as they head inside. 

The kids have to go through metal detectors. Connor’s belt sets it off and he has to remove it and go through again, which pisses off the guy behind him. He shoves Connor once he manages to get through the line. 

Connor supposes there are assholes at every school in America. 

He wanders the halls until he manages to find the library. It’s got a sort of musty smell and looks pretty abandoned. Just a couple of kids huddling over books or thermoses of coffee. 

Connor takes a look around. The stacks are a pretty bleak affair. A lot of the books are old and worn out. Connor spies a copy of  _ A Tale of Two Cities  _ that has been duct taped back together with the title sharpied on the spine. 

Fuck. Evan really went to school here? 

Connor eventually finds what he’s after. He’s glad he managed to look Evan’s mom up online before he came, because otherwise he probably wouldn’t have found her. He’d have guessed she was around Heidi’s age, but she wasn’t. 

She died at twenty five. Twenty  _ five.  _

Connor feels sick just thinking about that. He’s like. Smoked weed with people that age. 

He feels just. Sick. And sad. Really fucking sad. 

Connor still doesn’t know if  _ he’s  _ gonna make it to twenty five because sometimes making it to eighteen seems totally impossible but. Fuck. Even he knows that’s young. 

Connor scans the shelves until he finds the year book he’s after. 1989-1990. 

He pulls it off the shelf and pages through it. Until he finds the senior class photos. 

And then there she is. 

The senior pictures are printed in color, at least. Connor appreciates that. 

It lets him know that Evan’s mom was blonde. She has blue eyes and a lot of freckles. A lot of freckles. Unlike her classmates, her hair is not teased into a helmet. She’s got a round, sort of friendly looking face. She’s like… cute. Smiling. 

If Connor’s done his math right, she’s already pregnant with Evan in this photo. 

He marks the page and then goes looking for the index. 

Finds the other pages Margaret Hansen appears on. 

She played in the marching band. She played the  _ trombone  _ in the marching band. There’s a black and white candid photo of her in a tragic marching band uniform, playing the trombone, her cheeks all round and her eyes focused in a way that reminds Connor of how Evan looks when he’s really concentrating on homework or something. It’s the eyes. The set of her eyebrows. 

She and Evan have similar eyebrows. Evan’s are a little thicker, but it’s the same basic shape. Connor marks that page too. 

Finds her in a group photo of the whole marching band, this time out of uniform. She’s pretty short so she’s in the front row in a baggy sweater. She’s smiling brightly. 

But then Connor’s eyes catch on another face. 

Mark’s. 

He’s standing two rows back, toward the back. He’s holding some drumsticks. 

Connor decides not to save that one. 

He finds a couple more photos of Margaret. One of the National Honor Society. Another for the AV club. She’s the only girl in that picture. Her name is listed as “Maggie Hansen.”

Connor hadn’t known she was a Maggie. 

Something about that just makes him sadder. Maggie sounds like a person his sister could be friends with. Maggie sounds like someone Connor could know. Could picture in the hallways. A little shy. A little dorky. Someone Alana would try to recruit for their lunch table. 

Connor goes back through the yearbooks from 88-89, 87-88, and 86-87. Finds and marks all of the pictures he can of Margaret Hansen. 

He finds himself genuinely a little choked up at the picture of her as a ninth grader. 

She has this shy, uncomfortable smile in the black and white shot. Way more freckles. She has on big plastic hoop earrings and her hair is curled. A little bit teased in the front. She looks tiny. Young. 

A little sad. 

Connor wipes his eyes on his sleeve and goes to find the xerox machine. He has to give up and ask the librarian for help. 

“It’s ten cents for a black and white copy,” she says, not looking up at him. “Twenty five for color.”

The smallest thing Connor has in his wallet is a twenty. She tells him she can’t make change and he just mumbles that she can keep it. 

He copies the photos carefully. 

Makes sure they aren’t crooked. Makes sure they don’t bend or crease or get cut off weirdly. It takes maybe ten minutes to get the whole thing done. 

But when he’s finished he’s got a stack of fifteen photos of Evan’s mom. 

And apparently he’s made a donation to the Chino Public High library. Seems like they can use it. 

Connor heads out after that. He gets stopped by an armed security officer, asking why he’s not in class. 

Connor says something about a doctor’s appointment and keeps walking. 

He got what he came for. 

He wishes he’d been able to get the color photo on nicer paper. 

Connor bites his lip. Drives back toward home and finds a copy shop where he pays another ten bucks to have someone blow up and print the color photo on a nice, glossy page. 

Connor makes two more stops. One to buy a plastic frame to put the color photo in. 

Another to buy Starbucks for himself and Evan and Heidi. 

He heads to Evan’s pool house once he gets home. 

Evan’s still in bed, but he’s awake when Connor gets there. Heidi’s doing some work on her laptop at the table. Connor gives Evan a kiss and then asks how he feels about coffee these days. 

Evan smiles. “Shouldn’t you be at school?”

“I took an unsanctioned field trip,” Connor tells him. 

“To Starbucks?” Evan replies with a smile. 

Connor shakes his head. Goes into his bag to pull out the pictures. The little frame. 

It looks so pitiful then but it’s all he’s been able to get. 

“You uh. Told me you didn’t have any pictures of your mom anymore,” Connor says quietly. “So I… went and found some.”

Evan’s eyes go wide. A bit glassy. 

Heidi stops working. 

Comes to sit beside Evan. Wraps her arm around his shoulders. 

“It’s not much. I’m sorry. I wish I’d done better but…” Connor hands the frame to Evan. The color photo of Margaret Hansen as a senior in high school. With her smile and her round face and her freckles. Her eyebrows which look like Evan’s. 

“I got these too,” Connor says in a rush. “Like I said, it’s not a lot… but. I wanted to make sure you had  _ something. _ ”

“Connor I…” Evan’s eyes fill with tears. 

And Connor thinks maybe he fucked up. Maybe this hurts too much. Maybe he shouldn’t have…

“Thank you,” Evan chokes out. His fingers brush over the framed picture like it’s… precious. His eyes drink in the image. “Heidi,” he says softly. “Look, Heidi, this is my mom.”

* * *

Evan feels a little bit like he’s in a dream. It probably makes sense, because dreams are the only place he sees his mom these days. She looks almost exactly like he remembers her. 

A little younger. A little less sad. 

Even though it’s not the highest quality paper, Evan thinks he sees something scared in her eyes. She must have been seventeen in this photo. 

Seventeen and pregnant. 

No wonder she looks scared. 

He looks at Heidi, who’s staring at the photo, this horribly sad look in her eyes. Evan wonders if Heidi knows. 

Knows how young his mom was. 

“Mom had me a few months before she graduated,” Evan says quietly. “She, uh… my nana passed away when I was… three? I think? I don’t really know for sure.” Evan brushes his fingers over his mom’s face. “There’s so much I don’t remember.”

“You were really little,” says Connor, his voice so soft. 

“I tried,” Evan says, feeling a little bit like he’s outside his body, almost. “I tried really hard to hold on to… to everything.” 

Heidi clears her throat. Evan looks at her to see her eyes are glassy. “Is this from her senior yearbook?” 

Connor nods. Hands over a pile of pictures. “I went to your old high school. Went through the yearbooks and found every photo I could.”

Evan goes through the grainy black and white photos carefully, one at a time. 

His mom, playing the trombone in the marching band, focusing intently. 

The National Honor Society. AV Club. 

A photo of her in the ninth grade, looking so young, a smile on her face that Evan sees in the mirror almost every morning. 

The world snaps back into focus. Evan feels like he could crumble under the weight of this huge, wonderful, heart-breaking gift Connor has just given him. 

“This must have taken you forever,” Evan says, looking straight at Connor. “You… you drove all the way to Chino and you…”

“I just wanted you to have something to remember her by,” Connor says, his gaze unflinching. “You deserve to have something to remember her by.”

“We’ll figure out a way to keep them all safe,” Heidi says, something almost reverent in her voice. “Something to keep them safe for as long as we can.” She kisses Evan on top of the head, then pulls away gently. Looks at Connor, then back at Evan. “I’m going to let you two have a minute, okay?”

Connor nods. 

Heidi looks like she’s about to go, but instead of leaving, she walks over to Connor and pulls him into a tight hug. 

She doesn’t let go for a long time. Evan can tell that Connor’s a little uncomfortable, but he doesn’t try to force his way out. 

When she finally lets him go, Heidi kisses Connor on the cheek, says something Evan can’t hear then heads back into the main house, leaving the two of them alone. 

Evan just looks at Connor for a long time. 

Really looks at him. 

His nose is a little red, and so are his eyes. He looks a little nervous, like he’s not sure if he’s done the right thing. 

Evan can’t let that stand. 

He pulls back the covers and gets to his feet. Connor looks like he’s about to protest, but before he can, Evan’s pulling him into a kiss. 

Evan tries to put everything he’s feeling in that kiss. Everything he can’t possibly find the words to describe. The overwhelming feeling that Connor’s given him something precious, something he thought he’d lost forever, something he never thought he’d ever get back. Something that means everything. 

More than he can ever dream of explaining. 

“Thank you,” he says when they break apart. “Thank you thank you thank you. You have… Connor, you have no idea how much this-”

“I love you,” Connor says breathlessly, looking him right in the eye. 

Evan kisses him again. 

Kisses him for as long as he can stay standing, until his limbs are shaking from the effort. 

He still doesn’t know what to say when Connor tells him that he loves him. 

But he thinks that maybe he’s starting to understand.

* * *

Heidi goes back into the main house and stands in the kitchen for a moment. She wants to give Evan a chance to thank Connor properly without her hanging around because it’s a huge, amazing thing that Connor’s just done for Evan. 

At the same time she needs to just process what’s suddenly hit her. 

It’s suddenly hit her how  _ young  _ Margaret Hansen was. 

If she was seventeen when she was pregnant with Evan, then she couldn’t have been older than twenty-five when she died. 

Twenty-five, on her own with a seven year old. No family to help her. Mentally ill. 

Fuck. 

Heidi feels almost ashamed. She’s spent so much of the last year pissed at Margaret Hansen for not keeping it together, for hurting Evan so badly with her absence. She hadn’t considered the fact that Margaret was just a kid herself. 

There’s no way Heidi could have dealt with a baby at seventeen. 

No way at all. 

Fuck. 

It’s not fair. None of it is fair. 

And it’s not fair that Heidi’s been so mad at this scared teen mom with no one to help her. It’s not fair at all. She’d stood at Margaret Hansen’s grave and told her that she hated her and that wasn’t fair. 

Heidi’s hit with this sudden wave of grief, this tidal wave that threatens to drown her completely, and she gives herself a minute to just ride it out. 

To just let herself feel it. 

When she’s out of tears, she goes to wash her face. 

Feels a little less devastated. A little less raw. 

When Evan’s stronger, she’ll take him to visit his mother’s grave again. If he wants to. He deserves time to mourn properly. To grieve and process and just… sit with it. 

He hasn’t had that. He’s had to focus on surviving. 

Heidi hopes he can start to heal. She really hopes so. 

* * *

Working with Alice isn’t always easy. 

She’s a big fan of having hard conversations, it seems. 

Likes to call Evan on his bullshit a lot. Has an uncanny ability to know when he’s lying. 

He mentions this to Connor after a particularly grueling session. Connor just raises his eyebrows and tells him it’s probably for the best. 

Evan’s a little pissed off that he’s probably right. 

They’ve been working together for a few weeks when Alice asks him a question that stops him in his tracks. 

“So who is Connor to you? You’ve described him as your best friend, but you told me that he told you he loved you. That you were intimate the night before you went to Chino, that you’ve kissed since then.” Alice looks at him. “Is he your boyfriend?”

Evan stares at her for a long moment. 

“I have no idea,” he admits finally.

Alice nods. “Okay,” she says. “Have the two of you talked about your relationship at all?”

Evan blinks. “Not really? He… he tells me he loves me all the time, but I just…” He swallows hard. “I can’t say it back. And I know that hurts him. And I hate that I hurt him, but I just… I just can’t.”

Alice nods. “Do you know why you can’t say it?” she asks, sounding genuinely curious. “Is it because you don’t feel the same way?”

Evan frowns. “I… I don’t know if that’s it,” he tries to explain. “It’s that I… I don’t know if I understand what loving someone means. I… I feel like I can’t say it unless I understand it and I don’t… I’m not there yet? But it doesn’t mean that I don’t…” He swallows hard. Tries to make sense of the huge ball of emotions he has inside him for Connor. “The way I feel about him? It’s… big and overwhelming and I don’t want to lose it, I don’t want it to go away. I always want him around, always. I hate it when he’s not here, I’m…” He laughs a little. “I must be so annoying, I am so fucking clingy. When he’s here I never want him to leave.”

“Why don’t you want him to leave?” Alice asks. “What specifically do you like about having him around?”

Evan doesn’t have to think about that too long. “I feel safe,” he tells her. “Having him around makes me feel safe. And… and loved, he’s always made me feel loved, even before he… before we hooked up, before I even really knew that the way I felt about him was more than just a really intense friendship, he’s always made me feel… loved.”

Alice nods. “What does that feel like?”

Evan swallows hard. “Like I’m important. Like I matter. Like… like I can let go and be myself and it won’t change the way he sees me.”

“Is that how you feel about him?” Alice asks. “If you flip that around, is that how you feel about him?”

Evan hasn’t really thought about it like that before. 

Outlined like that, it’s… 

It’s clearer. 

“Yeah,” he says, this weird feeling of clarity settling over him. “Yeah, that’s… yeah.” He looks at Alice, a little desperately. “Is that… is it that simple? Is it that… it seems like it’s so much more than just… just that.”

“It can be,” Alice says lightly. “But it can be simple, too. It can be whatever works for you, we all define love differently.” 

“How do I know that he means the same thing as I do?” Evan asks desperately. “How do I know that when he says I love you, he means it the same way that I’d mean it if I said it?”

“You don’t,” Alice says with a wry smile. “Those three little words can be a minefield, dude.” 

Evan sighs. “I don’t know if I can say it yet,” he says. “I really want to, but I… I just haven’t got my head around it yet.” 

Alice nods. “And that’s fine,” she says. “That’s okay. But I think it might be worth the two of you talking about your relationship. Making sure you’re both on the same page.”

“How do I know if he thinks I’m his boyfriend?” Evan asks. 

Alice blinks. “You could ask him.”

“What if he doesn’t?” 

“Doesn’t think he’s your boyfriend, or doesn’t want to be your boyfriend?”

“Either. Both.”

Alice laughs a little. “Well, how do you feel about that? What would you say if he asked you if you were his boyfriend?”

“I want to be,” Evan says immediately. “I don’t know if I am, but I want to be.”

Alice smiles. “If he keeps telling you that he loves you, that suggests to me that him telling you he doesn’t want to be your boyfriend is pretty unlikely. I think that if you ask him, you’re going to get an answer similar to the one you gave me.”

“But what if I don’t?” Evan asks desperately. 

Alice raises her eyebrows. “Then at least you have some facts. You like those.”

Evan screws up his nose. 

She’s absolutely right. He  _ does  _ like those. 

When the session finishes, Evan goes to lie down. He’s always exhausted after a session with Alice. Just completely drained. It makes his head hurt worse, too. It’s not long before he’s drifted off. 

He wakes up to find Connor wrapped around him, his long hair spread across the pillow. Connor’s eyes are closed and he’s breathing evenly, but Evan can tell he’s not asleep. He kisses his collarbone, and Connor opens his eyes immediately. Smiles at him and gently pulls him closer. 

“Hey,” he says. “How was therapy?”

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

Connor stills. Looks at him, eyes wide. “What?”

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?” Evan asks again, looking right at him. He’s not quite awake yet, sure, but it’s suddenly very important that the question be asked. “Alice asked me if you were my boyfriend, and I realized that I didn’t know if you were, but also that I want you to be. And the only way to find out is to ask, so… do you want to be my boyfriend?”

Connor looks completely shocked. 

Evan suddenly thinks he’s said the wrong thing. He’s read the whole thing wrong. He tries to extract himself from Connor’s grasp. 

Connor doesn’t let him do that. 

He just kisses him. 

Soft and slow and nice. 

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Evan says when they break apart, trying not to sound as nervous as he feels. “I mean obviously you don’t have to-”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes,” says Connor simply. “I want to be your boyfriend.”

Evan blinks. “Awesome.” 

Connor smiles. Pulls him closer and kisses him again. 

He’s the best person Evan has ever kissed. Not that he has kissed many people. Or any people, aside from Connor’s sister, and oh god that’s fucking embarrassing, he really needs to extend his kissing pool except he absolutely does not want to do that because he only ever wants to be kissing Connor. 

Connor smiles at him as they break apart. “I love you.”

Evan smiles back. “You make me feel safe.”

Connor blinks. Looks at him a little searchingly, like he’s trying to figure out what Evan’s saying. 

Trying to read between the lines, trying to figure out what he means from what he’s  _ not _ saying. 

Evan isn’t stupid. 

He sees Connor’s heart break a little every time he says I love you and Evan can’t say it back. Every time he says something fucking stupid in response because he just can’t say it. There’s this look on Connor’s face that cuts Evan to the core, that makes him wish he was fucking normal and could just say it back. 

And after last time when Evan said the complete wrong thing… 

Fuck. 

He’d made Connor cry, which is right up there as one of the worst fucking things he’s ever done in his life. 

Evan never wants to make Connor cry. He fucking hates himself for being so goddamn useless. 

He wishes he could just say it. They’re just three words. 

It shouldn’t be that hard. 

Connor still has that look on his face this time, but it’s… not as devastating. Not as heartbreakingly awful. 

Today, he mostly just looks confused. 

“Being around you makes me feel safe,” Evan tries to explain. “I… I know that’s…”

_ Not what you want to hear.  _

_ Not enough.  _

_ Basically useless, but it’s what I can give you right now. _

“You make me feel safe, too,” Connor tells him after a moment.

Evan presses another kiss to Connor’s neck. Connor holds him tighter. 

He closes his eyes and lets himself rest. 

* * *

Evan is his boyfriend. Apparently. 

Connor likes the sound of that. Likes the way the word “boyfriend” sounds coming out of Evan’s mouth. How his eyes crinkled up with a big smile when Connor told him he was Evan’s boyfriend. How he said, “Awesome.”

It is. It’s awesome. 

Evan… 

Is so awesome. 

Connor kind of likes this. Getting to stick around and snuggle up with him when he naps. 

He skipped out of school after lunch. It was too much. The truancy officer at school is probably gonna start calling about it soon but Connor doesn’t give a shit. Evan is better than school. More important. 

Also ironically you get suspended if you keep skipping school. He learned that freshman year. It’s the dumbest punishment. He doesn’t wanna be in school so they give him days off. 

Stupid. 

Evan’s his boyfriend. 

… but he still won’t say he loves Connor. 

Connor doesn’t like that as much. That isn’t so awesome. 

But he thinks maybe Evan is trying. He keeps telling him different things. Whenever Connor tells him. 

Once he said, “Thank you.”

That one fucked Connor up for days. He didn’t know what the fuck to make of that. He wasted an entire session with his new therapist Cory ranting about it. About how Evan obviously doesn’t love him and it’s tearing him up inside. 

Cory had said, point blank, that he couldn’t control what Evan does. Or feels. “Tell me. What do you get out of worrying about this? Does the worry make you feel better or worse?”

Cory’s mostly cool but sometimes he’s a dick. He tells Connor about his life sometimes. He’s a big dude. Like huge. Taller than Connor and at least two or three times as broad. He rides a Harley. Has a partner named, honest to fuck, Dick. 

“He didn’t think about going by Richard?” Connor had said incredulously. 

Cory shrugged. “He’s just Dick, man. I dunno what to tell you.”

But Cory’s a good dude. He’s told Connor all sorts of shit. He’s HIV positive. Spent most of the 90s shooting heroin. Thinks NA is bullshit and told Connor straight up that he was never going to tell Connor not to do drugs. “That shit - pardon my language- never helps anybody. You already know it’s not  _ smart  _ to do drugs. If telling people not to do it worked, nobody would be an addict you know?”

Despite being a bull who squeezes himself into a tie, he totally seems to get the eating thing. “You don’t look like the guys around here. So it sounds to me that you’re trying to control what you do look like. I get that.” He had smiled. “I don’t look like the guys around here either.”

He really doesn’t. He looks like Hagrid. 

But he’s cool. 

He keeps telling Connor that he can’t control whether or not Evan loves him. 

But Connor suspects he’s wrong. 

Part of his brain keeps telling him he’s just doing it wrong. That if he loved Evan right, Evan would love him back. 

Maybe it’s as simple as Evan just not wanting to be gay. 

But he asked Connor if they were boyfriends. Said he wants Connor to be his boyfriend. 

And Connor does. Because he loves Evan. He loves the idea that he wouldn’t just have to introduce Evan as his  _ friend.  _

Not that he’s introducing Evan to a lot of people. Not that Evan can even go out. He’s still recovering. He gets these headaches. Connor hates those most of all because he can’t help. He can’t take them away. 

Mostly he just lets Evan sleep and doesn’t leave. 

Evan never seems to want him to leave. 

Connor keeps sneaking out to sleep in the pool house with him. Cuddling up to him. Evan’s having a hard time with reading right now. So texting is hard. Most of the time when he wants Connor to come over, he just calls and lets the phone ring once. 

He calls every night. 

Connor doesn’t mind. Not at all. Getting to fall asleep beside Evan is amazing. Plus he gets to watch him a little sometimes since Connor doesn’t need nearly as much sleep. 

Evan has the most beautiful face. 

He’s got some freckles. More than Connor has. His Irish skin wasn’t meant for Californian sun. He’s still all pale, just has freckles. 

But Evan has lots. 

He also has scars. Connor doesn’t love those. He’s not a “scars are beautiful” kind of guy. He hates that they mean Evan’s been hurt. 

But they don’t detract from how gorgeous he is. He’s got a little one over his eyebrow. Just this thin white line. Connor likes to kiss it. 

There’s a chicken pox scar on his cheek. 

He has nice ears. They get pink sometimes when he’s embarrassed. He seems to like it when Connor kisses them. No scars on those. Evan’s never had them pierced or poked in anyway. And they have freckles too. Just a few, on the lobes. On the backs. 

Then there’s his nose. Fuck Evan has a good nose. Connor’s kind of obsessed with his nose. It’s strong. Distinctive. He said once he didn’t like it but Connor’s is like. Huge and crooked from being broken a few times. Evan’s is perfect. 

Evan’s lips are Connor’s favorite. They’re sort of big, for a guy’s lips, but Connor likes them so much. They’re warm and always soft. Always. They get a little red after a lot of kissing. He bites them sometimes, giving Connor a view of his very nice teeth. He’s never had braces. Hasn’t even been to a dentist in a while. 

But they’re straight. Pretty white. The front left has the tiniest chip in the corner. it’s a perfect little imperfection. Perfect for Evan’s face. 

Evan’s cheeks are… adorable. A little fuller now than they’d been when he first moved here. He has to shave every couple of days now; he had a kind of adorably stubbly look about him a lot of the time he was in the hospital. Evan had sort of teased Connor once, asking if he even shaved at all. 

Like. Not a lot? Connor sort of has a baby face in that way. He shaves sure but if he skips a few days it doesn’t really look like much of anything. If he lets it go too long it kinda gets patchy and weird so Connor tries not to let it. 

Evan’s hair is a little weird right now. They had to shave some of it to do his surgery. So he has this little fuzzy patch that’s shorter than the rest of his hair. Connor bets it’s super soft but he’s too scared to touch it. That’s where they had to crack Evan’s skull. What if he touches it and it breaks Evan’s brain? 

Connor thinks about what Evan said earlier. That Connor makes him feel safe. 

He doesn’t really get  _ why.  _ Connor can’t protect him from much. Maybe a mosquito or something. He can’t save Evan from the awful shit in his brain or his scary past or the pain he’s in now. Connor apparently makes Evan feel safe, but he doesn’t really get how. 

He knows why Evan makes him feel safe. Because Evan never looks at him like he’s a freak. Because he tries to understand even when he doesn’t understand. Because he tells Connor he doesn’t want him to go. He makes Connor feel safe because Connor knows he’s… welcome. 

Maybe that’s how it feels for Evan. 

Maybe he feels safe  _ because  _ Connor lets him know that he loves him. 

Evan’s had a hard fucking life. Connor knows that. He gets the feeling Evan probably went years without being told “I love you.” He definitely went years without ever feeling safe. And he deserves that. Well. Everyone deserves safety and love, but Evan is all the more deserving because he hasn’t had it. 

Because he’s wonderful and kind and sort of a genius. Because he  _ cares _ . He stands up for people that are usually ignored. Evan deserves to be loved fiercely and constantly. He deserves to be wrapped up in so much love all of the time. 

He deserves to feel safe. And Connor’s glad that he makes Evan feel safe. 

It stings though. That Evan can’t or won’t or chooses not to say it back to Connor. 

Still, “you make me feel safe” feels less shitty than “cool.” 

The time Evan told him “cool,” Connor cried so hard he threw up. And he did it in front of Evan, which also sucked because he normally tries to keep his reactions quieter than that. He doesn’t need Evan feeling like Connor’s pressuring him into saying it back. He just felt like such a fucking idiot. And he knows Evan knows that it upsets him. And he knows that Evan is trying to tell him  _ something  _ with the way he responds to Connor telling him he loves him. 

But the thing he’s trying to say is never “I love you too.” 

And it hurts. 

It hurts a bit to love Evan and not know if Evan loves him too. 

He’s tired. He gets tired pretty easily these days. He closes his eyes and pulls Evan in close and goes to sleep. 

* * *

Mothers’ Day has never really been something has paid much attention to in the past but Evan had planned for this year to be different. He’d had all sorts of plans, actually. 

He’d planned to make Heidi breakfast. To serve it up nicely on a tray and bring it to her in bed, despite it being a horrible cliche. 

That’s out, obviously. 

He might be able to pour some cereal, but that’s the extent of his abilities right now. His recovery is up and down, with good days and bad days, and the last few days haven’t been great. He’s spent a lot of time just lying in a dark room, willing his headache to go away. 

Honestly, he’s been so unaware of time passing that Connor actually had to remind him when Mother’s Day was.

Embarrassing, really. Heidi deserves better than that. 

Connor had frowned when Evan had said that. “You were in the hospital,” he reminds him, as if it’s something Evan might have forgotten. “For, like, a month. It makes sense that you’re kind of losing track of time.” 

“I’m just glad I thought ahead,” Evan admitted. 

That had, however, brought up another problem. 

The problem being that Evan can’t remember where the fuck he put Heidi’s present. He’d just… flat out forgotten. It just hadn’t stuck in his mind. 

Evan usually has a good memory. 

A really fucking good memory. 

Realizing that he has no idea where he put Heidi’s present freaks him out. Completely freaks him out. Enough that Connor has to basically talk him down from a total panic attack that leaves him breathless and aching and kind of a wreck. 

He hates this a lot. 

Hates not feeling like he’s in top shape. Hates feeling vulnerable. 

_ Should have thought of that before you tried to kill yourself,  _ the voice in his head taunts him. 

_ Go fuck yourself, _ Evan shoots back. 

Connor manages to talk Evan into taking some oxy, even though he’s been trying to take it a whole lot less recently, because he’s clearly in a lot of pain. It has the effect of basically knocking Evan out for a bit. 

When he wakes up, it’s dark and Connor’s curled up against him. 

“It was in your closet.”

Evan turns to face him. “What?”

“Heidi’s present,” Connor explains. “It was in your closet. I found it while you were asleep.”

Evan isn’t quite awake. It takes him a moment to process what Connor’s saying. “You went to look for it?”

Connor shrugs. “Well, yeah. You still can’t get up the stairs without help.”

Evan doesn’t know what to say. 

He’s just… overwhelmed with…

With whatever it is he feels for Connor. 

He pulls him into a kiss. Kisses him with everything he’s got. 

“How long did it take you?” Evan asks. 

Connor smiles. “A while. You know how to hide things, oh my god.”

Evan tries to smile. “Yeah, well, you get good at it in foster care. If you want to actually keep your stuff.”

Connor’s face falls. Evan feels like an idiot for having said anything. 

He leans in to kiss Connor again. 

“Thank you,” he says quietly. “It means so much that you would do this for me.”

Connor looks right at him, his eyes bright in the dark. “Of course,” he replies simply. “I’d do anything for you. You know that.”

Evan does know that. 

Connor is…

Amazing. Wonderful. 

He just feels so fucking much for him. So much.

* * *

Connor feels a bit like a shithead. 

So nothing new there. 

But Evan freaked out about Mothers Day and… Connor hasn’t even thought about it. The last couple of years he’s just sort of slapped his name on a card and called it good. 

He’s a crappy kid to get stuck with. 

But he also sort of has a crappy mom these days. 

He doesn’t know what to do. 

He brings it up with Cory his therapist. 

“You could go see her,” Cory suggests. 

Connor shakes his head. He knows he’s not ready for that shit. “The last conversation we had before I ended up in the hospital was her covering up a bruise she gave me from smacking me across the face. And before that it was her blackmailing me.”

“You’re totally allowed to be pissed at her and not so much as acknowledge the day,” Cory says sensibly. “But it seems to be upsetting you. Making you sad.”

“Yeah I’m pretty fucking sad. She’s been a huge bitch. She left the  _ day  _ I went into the hospital and swung by to basically tell me she’s disappointed in me.”

“Look dude that’s totally valid,” Cory says. “That clearly hurt you a lot. And you don’t  _ owe  _ her anything. So. What do you want?”

Connor stupidly feels his eyes well up with tears. “When I was little my mom was my  _ favorite  _ person. I always wanted to hang out with her. I would get so excited to tell her about my day at school or… she was a classroom mom? So I loved it when we had like. Parties at school. Because that meant she would be there.” He looks down at his shoes. “I didn’t have a lot of friends, growing up. Still don’t… my mom was like. My best friend.” He sniffs. “And then she just. Wasn’t.”

“What was that like?” Cory asks. He slides the tissue box across the table between them. 

“Awful. It was like… I thought she hated me.” Connor rips the tissue into pieces. “She might. I don’t even know.”

Cory nods. 

“She’s. Like. Obsessed with how people see her. Like she’s always cared but in the past few years it’s just. It’s like. An obsession. It’s all she cares about. Like. She didn’t care that she  _ hurt me  _ when she hit me those couple of times. She just cared about what people would  _ say. _ ”

Cory looks sad. “That sounds so hard.”

“I just… I don’t know where I went  _ wrong.  _ I’m the same person. And… so she’s in rehab right? Same one I went to. We have this like. Huge thing in common. But she doesn’t want to like. Talk about it or… I dunno.” He grabs a new tissue. Wipes his stupid eyes. “I feel like I’ve made some horrible mistake in her eyes but she won’t tell me how to even fix it.”

Cory nods. 

“I don’t think I’m ready to see her,” Connor says. “Because I just want things to be okay. And if she pretends like they are, I know I won’t be able to call her on it. I’ll let her get away with it. Because she’s. My mom? And I love her.”

Cory nods again. “You loving your mom is not a weakness Connor. It hurts a lot when the people we love disappoint us. Make us feel unworthy.”

Connor sniffles some more. “It’s just hard. Because Evan’s… he’s like. So excited? That he’s got a mom again. That he’s got someone to buy something for on Mother’s Day.” Connor wipes his nose. “And I’m like. Scared of my mom. Scared she’ll just. Make me feel horrible all over…”

Cory gives Connor a small smile. “It’s hard. The fact that parents are people. Flaws and all.”

Connor sighs. “My dad used to be the hardass. The one who I didn’t get along with. But he… after the first time I tried to kill myself? He… he tries harder now. Sometimes he lets me get away with shit just because I think he’s scared I’ve got a hair trigger. But. At least he tries? My mom gave up trying a long time ago… and it just. Hurts.”

In the end, Connor decides against going to visit his mom. Instead he sends flowers on Mother’s Day. He goes to the florist and designs the bouquet with her. Picks all of his mom’s favorites. 

He sends a card with it. 

_ “I’m glad to hear you’re doing okay. I love you.” _

It’s all he’s got in him.

* * *

On Sunday morning, Heidi comes downstairs to find that Evan’s sitting at the kitchen table. He looks a little too pale, but he’s smiling, and there’s a plate of pastries on the table, along with a pot of coffee. 

“What are you doing up?” she asks, sitting down next to him. “And what’s all this?”

Evan smiles at her. “I was going to make you breakfast,” he says, a little apologetically. “I had this whole plan to make you an omelette and bring it to you in bed, but… this is the best I could do. Connor picked up the pastries for me, I know you like them.”

Heidi is completely lost. “This is very sweet of you, honey, but you don’t need to-”

Evan hands her a small wrapped gift. 

Heidi’s even more confused. 

Evan’s cheeks go pink. “It’s, uh… it’s Mothers’ Day?”

Oh. 

Oh. 

Heidi definitely wasn’t expecting that. She feels her eyes well up with tears immediately. 

Evan got her something for Mothers’ Day. Wants to acknowledge Mothers’ Day. After everything he’s been through, he wants to do something nice for her on Mothers’ Day. 

“Sweetheart, I…”

Evan blinks. Clears his throat. “I, uh… I know that w-when I first got here, I… I said that you weren’t my mom,” he says awkwardly. “And… my mom is always gonna be my mom, b-but you’re my mom, too. In… in every way that matters. And I’m… I’m so sorry that I’ve m-made it hard for you, that I h-haven’t appreciated you enough-”

“Evan,” Heidi says gently. She takes his hand. “Getting a chance to know you and love you? It’s the easiest thing in the world.”

Evan blinks. His eyes are a little glassy. “Y-you’re the best thing to ever happen to me,” he says, his words all coming out in a rush. “And I really love you.”

Heidi pulls him into a hug. “I love you, too.”

They have a pastry each. Evan encourages her to open her gift. 

“I actually got it over spring break,” Evan tells her as she’s removing the wrapping paper. “Connor and I went to the mall and I got a head start.”

Heidi feels warm all over at that. The knowledge that he’s planned this, that he thought about this a long time ago. 

She pulls out the gift. It’s a simple gold photo frame with a photo of her and Evan at Christmas in it. They’re sitting on the Murphys’ couch. Heidi remembers posing for the photo. She’s pretty sure Zoe took it. 

They’re both smiling. 

Looking at them both in this photo, it almost looks like there’s a family resemblance. 

It’s superficial, sure, and mostly in the fact that they’ve got the same color hair. But there’s something else there as well. Something that’s not physical, but… 

They look like they fit. 

They look like a family. 

Heidi hugs Evan again, as tightly as she dares. 

“This is perfect,” she says. “Thank you so much.”

Evan grins back at her. “Happy Mothers’ Day.”

* * *

Zoe decides to go and see her mom on Mothers Day. She gets her a present - it’s a book of positive affirmations since her mom tells her those have been helping her - and drives herself to the rehab facility. Her dad offered to go with, but Zoe tells him to stay home. Connor’s being kind of a mopey fuck and Zoe’s a bit worried about him. 

Zoe knows why. 

Connor used to go all out for Mother’s Day when they were little. Handmade cards, macaroni art, all of that cutesy crap. One year they made their mom breakfast in bed and got her a huge thing of flowers. 

Connor and their mom used to be super tight. But she’s been super awful to Connor this whole year. Zoe can’t exactly blame him for not wanting to go visit her. 

But she does sort of hate that he makes her go alone. 

But whatever. Zoe goes. Checks in at the front desk and wears the stupid visitor tag. 

When her mom sees her she pulls Zoe into a super tight hug. Zoe can’t believe it’s been so long since they’ve seen each other. 

Her mom needs her hair color touched up. There’s a white-gray color creeping into the red at the roots. 

Zoe lets her mom hug her for a long time. She knows her mom is crying. 

Zoe feels a bit like she could cry too. But she keeps it together. 

Zoe watches as her mom figures out, after a long hug, that Connor isn’t coming. Zoe doesn’t have the heart to confirm it. 

They go and sit on a sofa in the lounge. Her mom loves the book of affirmations. She hugs Zoe again and kisses her cheeks and tells her how much she loves her. 

“How have you been?” Her mom asks. She seems… normal. Not like she’s seemed the last year or so. 

“I’m okay,” Zoe says. “School is kind of tough right now.”

“Tell me about it,” her mom says. 

Zoe shrugs. Mentions that Jared Kleinman has been expelled. 

“What?” Her mom says. She bites her lip. “So it’s true. He was selling drugs?”

Zoe feels irrationally annoyed. She knew this. “Yeah. He was. I was buying from him. Connor did too, his freshman year.”

Her mom frowns and nods. “I’m so sorry sweetheart. I should have realized.”

“You had your own stuff going on,” Zoe says. 

She decides not to mention the photos. 

“What else is going on at school?”

Zoe bites her lip. “Well. Some assholes have been graffitiing my locker.”

Her mom looks surprised. 

“Because I’m dating Sabrina.”

Zoe holds her breath. Waits for the fallout. 

Her mom takes a moment and then she smiles a bit. “You two worked things out?”

Zoe crosses her arms. “No lecture on how dating a girl is gonna ruin my life?”

Her mom frowns deeply. “I’m so sorry. About all of that. Zoe. I love you no matter what. If this girl… if  _ Sabrina  _ makes you happy then. That’s good. That’s the important thing.”

“I’m going to prom with her,” Zoe volunteers then. 

Her mom looks surprised. “You are?”

Zoe nods. 

“Do you have a dress?”

Zoe shakes her head. “Not yet. I thought maybe I’d just wear my dress from cotillion again? Since I only wore it for a couple of hours.”

Her mom purses her lips. 

Zoe prepares for a lecture. 

“It’s just… it’s prom. Don’t you want a new dress?”

Zoe shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. It’s just a dance. I’ll figure it out.”

Her mom smiles. “Promise you’ll take pictures?”

Zoe nods. “I will.”

“I hope you have a wonderful time sweetheart.”

“Thanks.”

“How’s everything else? At home? How is…?”

Zoe should have known eventually her mom would ask about Connor. She’s not even really mad. “Connor and Evan are dating now.”

“Well I suppose that was only a matter of time,” her mom remarks. 

Zoe’s eyebrows go up. “What?”

“Oh I could tell right away that that boy had it bad for your brother. He hangs off everything Connor says.” She smooths down her hair. “I’m happy for them.”

Zoe is surprised to hear that. “You… you’re  _ happy _ ?”

Her mom nods. “I know that I was… cruel. To a lot of people but especially to you and your brother. And I’m working very hard to… get myself together. I’m working my program and I… I really mean it this time. I never want to be in that place again.”

Zoe can’t help herself. “I just don’t understand… what happened? You used to be a… wine with dinner mom. And then suddenly you like…”

Her mom nods. “I know. I… when David died. I think I lost myself a bit.” She twists her wedding ring around her finger. “I just… I don’t have living parents. I don’t have siblings. David and I grew up together and losing him… it shook everything. And suddenly it felt like every single thing that had gone wrong in my life was connected to that. And nobody  _ cared.  _ Not when David had a grieving widow. My pain didn’t matter. It felt like I was… standing there in the middle of all of these idiotic parties, screaming and crying, and everyone around me just walked by like nothing was going on.” She dabs her eyes daintily. “And everything with Connor has just happened and we had to send him away. And it broke my heart to send my little boy away but I didn’t think there was any other way to keep him safe and. Once David died, I… I was just so  _ sad _ . And I let it swallow me. And drinking. It… helped numb that.”

Zoe gets that. 

She hates that she gets that. 

She’s felt that exact way. 

She doesn’t want to feel the same way her mom does but… she does. She has. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice,” Zoe says. 

“You’re my child. It’s not your job to take care of me,” she says. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice what has been going on with you. It sounds like you’ve had a very difficult year.”

“Yeah. No shit.”

Her mom smiles a little. “Zoe I want to be able to. Make things right between us. And I know I haven’t earned your trust or forgiveness yet. But I will.”

  
  


Zoe makes a decision about the prom. About what to wear. She’s been thinking about it since she asked her… and she thinks she’s made a decision.

One she gets Connor’s help with. 

He comes with her shopping and everything. They pick out what she’ll wear and she pays double for overnight alterations. Connor comes with her to pick it back up again on the day of prom. 

“You sure about it?” He asks her as they walk out of the shop together. “You can still wear your cotillion dress.”

“I never want to wear that cotton ball looking thing again.”

The place specializes in youth formal wear. It had taken a few tries but eventually they found Zoe something to wear. It didn’t even take that many alterations. She paid too much for it to be ready to wear in a day but Zoe’s happy with the decision. She thinks she’ll look good. She thinks this is something she’s ready to try.

“Where to now?” Connor asks as they pull away from the formal wear boutique. 

Zoe smiles. “Hair salon,” she says firmly. “I called and they said they’d probably be able to squeeze me in.”

“You’re not gonna like. Go crazy and cut off all of your hair just because you’re dating Sabrina, are you?” Connor asks. “Because mom will lose her shit and it will somehow be my fault.”

Zoe will admit that the idea crossed her mind. She did think about like… shaving her head or something drastic. But she’s not sure that’s her style. 

“No,” she says firmly. “But I want to do something…. That’s more me?”

Connor sits and reads a magazine while Zoe’s whisked off into a chair. She sees him on his phone and knows he’s probably telling Evan all about this little adventure he’s accompanying her on. Zoe wonders if Connor’s sad that he and Evan can’t go to the prom. 

Maybe next year. 

The stylist is the same girl who dyed Zoe’s hair with blue streaks last summer. She seems excited to see her back again. 

“What are we doing this time?” The stylist asks her. 

“I want it to be colorful,” Zoe says. “And I want it to compliment this?” She shows off a picture of what she’s wearing to prom. 

“You’ve got some serious balls kid,” The stylist says with a chuckle. “Don’t you go to Harbor?”

Zoe nods. 

“Serious balls.”

But she still starts mixing colors together for Zoe’s hair. A dark indigo color. Royal blue. A bright purple. She paints it in streaks all through the bottom of Zoe’s hair. 

When the dye has processed and her hair is dry, the stylist gets to work on setting Zoe’s hair for the prom. She twists it up into an intricate braid that’s pinned to the back of her head, the colors weaving together in this really cool way. Zoe’s super pleased with how it looks. 

Connor high fives her when she comes to find him out front, smoking a cigarette and on the phone with Evan. He hangs up and turns to look at her. “You look badass, Zo. Seriously.”

“Thanks,” she says. She feels almost bashful at getting his approval. 

“You’re like. Going to be the coolest girl there. You’re so fucking awesome.”

Zoe smiles, a little embarrassed, and thanks him again. She thinks it looks good. When she gets home she gets dressed in the suit she bought today. The color matches the blue in her hair. 

Her dad and Connor have to help her to knot the tie. 

“Never thought I’d be helping you with this,” Her dad says with a smile. “But you look amazing sweetheart. Very dapper.”

“No drinking,” Connor says. “No drugs. And don’t be out all night.”

“I swear we won’t,” Zoe says. She looks at her dad. “Shouldn’t you be the one with the lecture?”

“Why? Connor’s got it covered.”

Zoe rolls her eyes at him but then smiles. 

She’s nervous. But also excited. She’s going to prom with Sabrina. Everyone will see them together. Everyone will know (well… everyone who doesn’t already know after Zoe’s little cafeteria performance). 

But Zoe thinks she’s ready. 

She’s going to try. See how it feels. 

Connor gives her a high five and then snaps a few photos of Zoe before she goes. She has a corsage for Sabrina in the fridge that she grabs before leaves. 

Her dad let her take his car tonight. It’s nicer. Fancier. 

“Take lots of pictures,” Connor says. 

“And call if you need anything,” Her dad adds. 

“Thanks guys. Love you.”

They both echo “love yous” as she heads out the door. 

Zoe takes a deep breath. Climbs into her dad’s car. 

She can do this. 

When she pulls up to Sabrina’s, Zoe takes one last look in the rear view mirror. To reassure herself that this is who she’s ready to be in front of people. 

She is. She’s sure. 

Zoe goes and rings the bell. Dr. Patel answers and says Sabrina will be down in a moment. He looks surprised at Zoe’s suit. But she doesn’t care. 

When Sabrina comes down the stairs, Zoe finds herself smiling so hard her face actually hurts. Her dress is a shimmery gold that makes her look unbelievably gorgeous. It makes her skin look so warm and beautiful. It catches the light and makes Sabrina’s whole body sparkle. 

She looks beautiful. Sabrina is  _ so  _ beautiful. Zoe feels like her heart might genuinely burst. She’s kind of terrified she might burst into tears or something dumb. 

“Oh my god look at you!” Sabrina says. “I thought you were going to wear your cotillion dress?”

Zoe shrugs. “It didn’t feel like… that’s who I am these days.” She straightens her tie awkwardly. “Do I look okay?” Sabrina’s opinion is the only one she really cares about. 

Sabrina kisses her. “You look amazing.”

“I didn’t want to like… freak you out or whatever but. I just thought. Maybe I’d try this?”

“I think you look gorgeous.”

They trade corsages. After a moment, Mr. Patel decides that Zoe would do better to wear hers pinned to her lapel and he disappears to get a few pins to manage it. 

Then they take a bunch of photos. So many pictures. Sabrina looks stunning in every single one. Zoe does her best to look at the camera, not at Sabrina.

Sabrina keeps glancing at her nervously as they drive to the venue. 

“What?” Zoe says. 

“I guess… I never expected you in a suit?”

Zoe shrugs. “I’m trying it out. I think I like it.”

“Me too,” Sabrina says softly. She touches a lock of Zoe’s hair that’s fallen out of her updo. “Very punk rock.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have brought Connor to the salon with me.”

Sabrina laughs softly. “I really love you. I think you’re… so brave?”

“Not as brave as you,” Zoe says with a shrug. “And I love you too. So much.” She parks the car. Comes around to the passenger side to help Sabrina out. Takes her hand. “Ready?”

Sabrina nods. “Ready.”

* * *

Weekends are spent at the beach house. 

That’s what Heidi’s decided to try to keep Evan from just totally losing track of time, apparently. As much as he’d like to be back at school, he’s just not there yet. Not when he still gets these awful, completely debilitating headaches, and it’s still hard to read and focus on anything for more than a couple of minutes at a time. 

He’s pissed that he missed the AP tests. He put a lot of effort into studying for them. They’re saying he might be able to take them next year, which will mean taking a whole bunch at once, but he’s hopeful he can do it. 

He just needs to rest, the doctors tell him. He’s young and he’s strong and he’ll recover, he just needs to be patient. 

Evan’s trying his best to be patient, but it doesn’t come easily. 

He just wants things to be better  _ now.  _

It’s becoming pretty obvious he’s not going back to school this year, which he really hates, but there’s talk about summer school to make sure he’s ready for senior year. 

Senior year and college applications. 

Heidi’s not pushing, exactly, but she keeps telling him that he deserves a future. That he deserves to move past this, deserves for what happened not to completely derail his life. 

Not to let his past define him. 

Evan’s not sure he can really escape his past, not really. Part of him feels like he’s always going to be this messed up, scared kid from Chino with a dead mom and an abusive dad, who lies about everything to protect himself from his reality. 

But then he looks at Heidi. Sees how she upended her entire life to help him. Thinks about everything she’s done, how much she cares, how she believes in him. 

That’s different. That’s new. 

Maybe he can escape everything that’s happened, after all. 

Maybe he can be free. 

The sun is setting, and Heidi’s gone to pick up something for dinner, and it’s Evan and Connor on the loveseat on the porch, looking out at the ocean. 

It’s calm. 

Peaceful. 

Evan leans his head on Connor’s shoulder. Connor presses a kiss to the top of his head. Takes in a breath, like he’s going to say something. 

But he doesn’t. 

He’s been doing this a bit more recently, Evan notices. Pausing. Stopping before he says something. 

Evan knows why. 

Connor’s trying not to get his heart ripped out every fucking time he says I love you and Evan doesn’t say it back. 

It’s fair enough. 

It makes sense. Evan gets it. 

And Connor’s trying not to push. He really is. He’s not pressuring him, he’s not making him feel bad, he’s just… waiting as patiently as he can. For something he doesn’t know for sure will ever happen. 

Evan hasn’t, like, given him a time frame or whatever for getting his shit together.

Connor has every right to just cut his losses here. To give up and move on to someone who’s less fucked up, someone who can actually verbalize his fucking emotions. 

But he stays. 

He stays, because he loves him. 

Connor loves him. 

It doesn’t make a hell of a lot of sense to Evan, who still feels at his core like he’s completely unlovable, but he knows it’s true. 

He believes Connor when he says I love you. And that’s…

That means something. 

That means everything. 

“I love that I can trust you,” Evan tells Connor quietly. Connor looks at him, something a little surprised in his expression. “I love that you have my back, that I can trust you to be there.” He swallows hard. Looks at Connor intently. “You always have been. From day one, you’ve always been there for me. You always come through, you… I love that about you.”

Something a little sad flashes over Connor’s face then. 

Evan knows what it is. 

Knows why. 

It’s because of what he’s not saying. 

“And it’s not just that,” he continues. “I can trust you with… the worst parts of me. I can trust you with my secrets, with the parts of me that are… broken and ruined and messed up, because I know that you understand. That you won’t call me a freak, you won’t laugh at me, you won’t…” He blinks a few times. Wills himself to to keep it together. “You won’t think any less of me. Won’t take the things I already hate about myself and use them as a weapon. I can trust you with… with the things I want to hide.” He looks at Connor, a little pleadingly. “You have to understand how big a deal that is to me. How much I…”

Connor’s face softens. He kisses Evan, so gently. 

“It’s okay,” Connor says, and his voice is so soft and so sad. “It’s okay that you...”

He trails off. 

Evan hears what he doesn’t say. 

And something clicks into place. 

“From the moment I met you, the moment we first spoke, you made me feel safe,” Evan says, his voice steadier than he thinks he’s ever heard it. “The night before I met you I was in fucking jail, then twenty-four hours later I was at Heidi’s in this honest to fuck mansion and nothing made any goddamn sense and I was so overwhelmed and then you asked me for a cigarette.” He laughs a little. “And I  _ gave  _ you one. I never do that, cigarettes are way too expensive. But I gave you one, because there was this weird feeling that I could trust you. That you were safe. We’d barely said two words to each other but you made me feel safe, and that’s…”

He takes a deep breath. 

“You make me feel safe,” Evan tells Connor. “You make me feel like I could belong somewhere, like I’m not alone, like all the shit the universe wants to rain down on me is going to be okay because there’s someone by my side to face it with me. You make me feel wanted, which is crazy because my whole life has been full of people trying to make me someone else’s problem. And that means… everything to me.”

Connor’s eyes are kind of glassy. Still kind of sad.

For what’s probably the first time in his whole life, Evan knows exactly what to say. 

“I love you.”

Connor’s eyes go wide. He looks at Evan, his mouth open a little like he’s genuinely shocked. Like he’s genuinely speechless. 

He’s beautiful like this. 

The most beautiful person Evan’s ever seen. 

“I love you,” Evan says again. “I love you, and I wanted you to know that, and I wanted you to know what I mean when I say it. I mean that I trust you. That you make me feel safe and that I want to make you feel safe, too. That I always want you around, all of the time, because being around you makes me feel like I’m wanted. Like I matter. And… I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it all out, because I’ve  _ always  _ trusted you. You’ve always made me feel safe. I’ve always wanted you around and you’ve always made me feel like I matter, and… I think that might mean that I’ve always loved you.”

* * *

Connor knows he’s staring. He probably looks like an idiot, his eyes all big and his mouth open, but he thinks he’s in shock. 

Evan loves him. 

He said he loves him. 

He said he thinks he’s  _ always  _ loved Connor. 

And Connor’s like. His brain might be broken or jammed or something because he’s just. Speechless. Staring. 

Evan  _ loves _ him. 

After wanting to hear if for so long he doesn’t even know what to say. 

He tries to smile. It feels weird on his face. “Thank you?” He spits out. 

Evan gives him a dirty look. “Rude. Uncalled for.”

“Fuck, sorry. I. _ I love you _ . I love you too, obviously but. I. I mean. I know you… that you. It’s like a. A thing. A thing for you to… just. Thank you. For. Saying it?” He’s not making sense. But he is genuinely grateful. Connor is beyond grateful because he’s been tying himself into knots and desperately trying to keep his fucking mouth shut and  _ not  _ say it because he didn’t want to make Evan uncomfortable or feel like  _ he  _ had to say it back but. 

He really needed to hear it. 

Evan loves him. 

“Can I kiss you now? Please?” Connor asks breathlessly. 

Evan smiles at him. “I love that you ask.”

Of course he asks. Evan likes it when he asks. 

Evan kisses him then. Like  _ really  _ kisses him. He touches Connor’s hair and apparently Connor is really into Evan touching his hair because his heart starts beating really fast and Evan opens his mouth a little and they keep kissing and it’s all very properly teenaged of them to be making out with each other now and Connor kind of loves it. 

When they break apart, Evan’s cheeks are pink and Connor wants to, like, eat them or something. He’s so stupid he doesn’t know what to do or think or feel he just loves Evan so much he could explode. 

He opens his mouth to say so but Evan beats him to it. “I love you.”

Connor just stares at him. Wide eyed, slack jawed. The whole embarrassing thing. 

Part of him wants to ask Evan if he’s sure. If he’s positive because he wasn’t saying it for a reason. 

But that part is very quiet. It’s drowned out by his pounding heart and the blood rushing through him and his own voice saying, “I love you. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Evan says. He kind of curls up against Connor. Rests his head against Connor’s chest. Fuck he’s so… perfect. He wants this moment to go on and on forever. Evan in his arms, the sky meeting the ocean, their “I love you”s still hanging in the salty air. 

“Can I say something dumb?” Connor says suddenly. 

“Okay. Yeah.”

“I’m like. Happy?” He tries to explain. “Like. Not… all of the time. Because I know I’m all. Fucked up and whatever. My head is like… a mess. But when I’m with you I’m… happy. Mostly I’m just happy.”

Evan looks at him. Smiles widely. “You make me happy too.”

Connor smiles at Evan. He like. Wants to cry or something? Maybe? He doesn’t know. 

Evan looks at Connor’s mouth. 

So Connor kisses him. 

Which seems to be what Evan wants. 

That’s good. That’s very good. 

This is. Good. 

Connor thinks about what Evan said. About always loving him. Maybe he should be more focused on actually kissing his perfect boyfriend who  _ loves him  _ but he’s still stuck on that. 

When they break apart, Connor tries to explain where his head is. “You wouldn’t normally bum someone a smoke?”

Evan looks at him like he’s crazy. “Dude no. They’re l-like. So expensive.” Then he pulls a face. “Is it weird that I just called you dude?”

Connor has no idea. He and Miguel never weeded “dude” out of their vocabulary. But they also didn’t really tell people about them. Connor shrugs. “How the fuck should I know?”

“I dunno. You’ve done this before.”

“Not really. Not like this.” He pulls a face. “Like. It’s mostly just been like. Sex or whatever.” He frowns. “I swear I’m not a slut.”

Evan looks at him seriously. “I’d never call you that.”

Connor suddenly very much wants to post all sorts of obnoxious bulletins on MySpace about being taken. Not to like. Show off for M. But to like. 

Show the world that he’s Evan’s. 

He’s totally Evan’s. 

“But uh. No? About cigarettes?”

Connor feels weirdly warm about that. 

“I thought you were like. Insanely gorgeous by the way. When we first met.” He feels a blush creep onto his face. “Ugh I was so  _ lame.  _ I like. Skateboarded in front of Heidi’s house for like. An hour hoping you’d like. Come outside.” He pulls a face. “And you were shopping with  _ Zoe _ .”

“Don’t be jealous,” Evan says. Pleads almost. “I just.”

“It’s okay. It’s not like… I don’t  _ care,  _ okay? So you liked her. Whatever. You  _ love  _ me.”

Evan grins at him this big dumb gorgeous stupid grin. 

“But if we’re. Gonna do the whole… other people thing… you can ask. If you wanna. You don’t have to. And it doesn’t have to be right now. But if you want to know. I’ll tell you. Obviously.”

Evan considers this for a moment. Bites his lip. It makes Connor want to kiss him. A lot. 

“You slept with Reg?” Evan asks. 

“I did,” Connor confirms. His face is hot. “But I… mostly I was just like. Sad? Because I was… being all jealous about you and Zo and the shit with my mom sucked so.” Connor shrugs. “It didn’t mean anything. Not really. It was just a distraction.” He sucks in a breath. Exhales. In. Out. “I know sex isn’t like that for you, okay? So I’m not gonna like. Get you into bed and then bail. Alright? I’m not  _ ever  _ gonna bail on you.”

Evan nods. He looks relieved a little. 

“I just… I’m not as. Experienced?”

“I love you okay?” Connor says firmly. “And. Like. I hope someday we can… you know. But. Like. It doesn’t have to be any time soon, okay? You’re like. Barely out of the hospital and… I got hands.”

Evan blushes. “You… think about me?”

“Oh my god, is that super fucking weird?” Connor worries. “Because I will stop, like, immediately-”

“No. Don’t. It’s… I like that?”

“Really?” Connor smiles.

Evan kisses him. With  _ tongue.  _

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Evan rests his head against Connor’s chest again. Connor very gently runs his fingers through the front of his hair. “I love you more than I can like. Explain. Okay?”

“Okay,” Evan says. “I love you too.”

Connor’s face aches from smiling. But he’s happy. Right now he’s happy. 

And that feels improbable, insane really, but very very good. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "G.I.N.A.S.F.S." by Fall Out Boy.


	59. Can I Lay In Your Bed All Day?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer, swimming lessons and the annual 4th of July barbecue.

Summer gets off to a weird start. Connor and Zoe’s mom is still in rehab, so she’s not there for any of the customary end of the school year stuff that normally happens. 

Mostly the summer just means that Connor and Zoe are left home alone a lot. 

Which this year means that they aren’t really home at all this summer. Zoe goes to Sabrina’s or to the mall or to music lessons. She’s taken up the guitar again with a very real intensity. She says she’s going to audition for the jazz band before fall. 

For Connor it mostly means he’s just with Evan. 

Which is his absolute favorite place to be. 

Evan is getting stronger. He looks better by the day. He can climb stairs and walk unassisted these days. He’s back to doing pretty much everything he could before he got injured, though sometimes a little more slowly. 

Well. Except driver’s ed. He still gets bad headaches and sometimes gets dizzy so. No behind the wheel for him right now. 

Which suits Connor fine because he genuinely does not mind driving Evan around places. 

One of those places is summer school. 

Which he knows Evan isn’t like. Thrilled around. He missed almost half of second semester so he’s got a bit of catching up to do before senior year starts. For the most part, it seems to be okay. He still gets a bit tired if he looks at books or computer screens for too long, but he seems to be managing. 

It makes Connor relieved, truth be told. 

Connor does not need summer school. His attendance record was Actual Trash second semester but he still managed to walk away with a 4.0 so. Nobody can  _ make  _ him go to summer school. 

But Evan needs to go so Connor agrees to drive him. He also decides to take his last required gym class during the summer so he can try to avoid the torture come fall. No use risking a class with Brian or Chad. 

They are pretty pissed off that Connor and Zoe managed to get Jared Kleinman expelled. He’s awaiting trial still, but it sounds like he might end up in juvie. Which is fitting. 

Connor hates this stupid fucking gym class, but because it’s summer they mostly just play softball out in the school’s field. Connor has hilariously gotten a reputation for being a bit of a good batter. He can’t run for shit still, but he almost always gets on base. 

Small victories. 

One slight upside of mandated physical activity four days a week is that Connor is starving pretty much all of the time. Connor and food still don’t have the  _ best  _ relationship, but it’s a little bit easier to coax himself into eating when he feels hungry constantly. 

People always joke that teenage boys are bottomless pits and Connor is starting to see why. A bit. 

He still kind of feels weird when it comes to food. Still goes to his eating disorder group sometimes, but Connor still feels out of place there since he’s the only guy. 

Connor’s favorite thing to do, however, has very little to do with summer school gym class. 

And everything to do with spending time with Evan. 

Evan is just… so wonderful. 

Even if he basically has the world’s best excuse to get out of gym class for forever. Lucky. 

One of the things the two of them have taken on as a task for the summer is swimming. Evan’s strength is absolutely up, but it’s not quite where he was before the hospital. When Connor suggests he try swimming, he half expects that Evan will just shove him into the pool. 

But oddly enough he seems interested. 

Connor has to psych himself up a little before they actually commit to swimming in Heidi’s pool the first time. Something about being in a bathing suit is still… 

Weird. 

“You know I’ve seen you naked right?” Evan says to him when Connor tries to explain his slight hesitation to take his shirt off when they’re standing outside of the pool house. 

“Jesus, I don’t think Heidi heard you, can you say it a little bit louder?”

Evan giggles and strips his own shirt off. 

He’s still got these long, slightly pink scars on his sides from the surgeries he had. But he doesn’t seem self-conscious about it. 

Connor needs to stop worrying that maybe he has weird nipples and just. Get in the damn pool. 

They wade into the water slowly. Evan bitches that it’s cold and Connor flicks a little water at him. Tells him to quit being a baby. 

They start with floating. 

Connor has been swimming his whole life, so it takes him a bit to work out how to explain some of the stuff that just feels basic. 

Evan likes floating. 

“It’s weird. Kind of like being weightless.”

Connor smiles at him. “Yeah. This is probably what being in space is like.”

From floating they move on to some other basics. Breathing out through your nose so water doesn’t get up it. Doggie paddling. 

“Doggie, huh?” 

“Oh my god,” Connor laughs, splashing Evan. “Don’t you even think about trying to turn our very innocent and pure swimming lessons into something dirty.”

Evan giggles. He only ever makes that kind of a joke when it’s just the two of them. A few weeks back, Zoe had jokingly asked him if he’d “boned down” with Connor yet and Evan basically did an extremely convincing impression of a tomato. 

Sex is still kind of off of the table. Evan’s not ready. Connor’s  _ not  _ pushing. But he does like that Evan will let him touch him these days. That’s. Amazing. He won’t like… let Connor get him off or anything yet, but he will let Connor kiss him and touch him and that’s great. Connor loves that. 

Evan is not a bad swimmer. He’s not the best and he gets discouraged sometimes when he doesn’t immediately master something but he’s determined. 

“It would be nice not to be constantly concerned about drowning,” Evan says. 

Connor does like the sound of  _ that.  _

The pair of them spend a lot of hours in the pool after they get out of summer school. They both get pretty freckley as the summer wears on, but Evan absolutely has Connor beat when it comes down to it. He’s like. Basically covered in freckles from head to toe. Connor loves it. He thinks it’s the cutest thing. 

At night when they go to sleep together, Connor likes to see how many he can count in the dark before he finally closes his eyes. 

On bad nights, his count has been in the high 900s. On good nights he can’t even get past the roughly 115 freckles on Evan’s nose before sleep takes hold of him. 

Connor has never really been someone who loves summer vacation. He never loved school but summer was. Lonely. A long stretch of time without structure that seemed like it was designed to slowly drive him insane. And the last two summers…? 

Well they had been. Not great for him. 

Especially lonely. 

Kind of dangerous. 

So this summer feels… almost too good to be true. He has plans, almost every day. Even when he doesn’t have plans, Connor has somewhere to be. Someone to see. 

And that feels like this insanely, wonderfully precious thing. He’s really grateful for it. 

For Evan. 

He’s always grateful for Evan. 

* * *

It’s the best summer of Evan’s life. 

There is literally no competition. It’s the best summer ever. The best. 

First off, now that school’s officially over for the year Evan doesn’t have to feel bad about the fact that Connor keeps skipping school to hang out with him. They can spend all their time together without that undercurrent of guilt, which helps matters greatly. 

Heidi’s back at work, but she’s reduced her hours a lot, which means she’s around a whole lot more. Evan loves it. Loves knowing she’s deliberately making sure she’s home to be with him. 

Even the fact that Evan has to go to summer school because of all the school he missed can’t make the summer suck. He hates that he’s technically behind, because he worked so hard throughout the year to get his GPA up. He doesn’t love that he has to be at summer school but at least there aren’t tons of people there. He can get things done. 

And at least Connor’s around. The fact that he’s taking gym at summer school is kind of hilarious and Evan strongly suspects he’s only doing it to be with Evan. 

Which is…

Fucking adorable. The kindest, most wonderful thing. 

Connor is the kindest, most wonderful person. 

Evan’s never liked summer all that much. He hadn’t exactly loved school but when he was at school, he knew he’d get at least one meal a day and even though the air conditioning at Chino Public High kind of sucked, at least it existed. 

The last few summers had just been… hard. He’d spent most of his time in the library reading, which had helped, but aside from that reprieve he’d just been… hot. And hungry. And bored and scared, scared that Mark would be drunk and try to hurt him or Ethan would kick his ass just for fun. 

When it came to Ethan, he had three distinct modes. The first was to pretend Evan didn’t exist. Not the worst, but it could get awfully fucking lonely during the long summer months where there was nothing else to do. 

The second was to torment Evan as much as possible. Kick his ass. Destroy his stuff for his own amusement. Be deliberately horrible to him, say whatever cruel and true things he could come up with. Keep him up all night with loud music. Invite girls around and kick Evan out of his room to fuck them, or just fuck them right there with Evan in the bottom bunk.

The third mode was arguably the worst, though, and that was when Ethan needed something. He’d be just nice enough to Evan to make things okay for a little while. Take him to parties, bring him along to hang out with friends, buy him ice cream or whatever. It always led in Evan being roped into some kind of stupid shit that was likely to get in him trouble, something he absolutely knew he shouldn’t be doing. 

It was the third mode that got them both fucking arrested. 

Evan’s still pissed at himself that he fell for it every time. Every fucking time. It’s like Lucy and the fucking football. 

For someone who’s allegedly smart, he’s a fucking dumbass sometimes. 

He tells Connor about this late one night as they sit outside the pool house, looking at the water in the pool. Evan can tell that Connor’s trying not to look as horrified as he clearly feels, which Evan appreciates. For a moment, Evan’s convinced that Connor must think he’s a total fucking idiot. Just the stupidest person alive. 

That Connor’s going to be done with him because he’s just so fucking dumb. 

The moment passes. 

Connor just looks so sad. 

“I know I shouldn’t have let him talk me into it,” Evan says quietly. “I-I always knew, every t-time he wanted a favor.” He lets out a long, slow breath. “I was just… so fucking lonely? It was…” Evan shrugs. “It was better than being alone.”

Connor still looks sad. But he nods. 

“I get it.”

Evan looks at him intently. Takes in his pretty eyes and high cheekbones and the open, honest look on his face. 

“I know you do,” Evan tells him. “It’s… it’s one of the things I love the most about you. That you do get it.” He reaches out and takes Connor’s hand. Squeezes it tightly. “Even though I kind of wish you didn’t.” 

That night they head out to the beach house and actually go for a swim. Evan’s still not going out particularly deep in the ocean, but he’s less afraid. Much less afraid. 

It’s an amazing feeling, the security that he knows what to do in the water now. It’s not the easiest thing he’s ever done and he’s still not at full strength so sometimes his body doesn’t cooperate the way he wants it to, but he doesn’t feel like he’s drowning anymore. 

Doesn’t feel like he’s totally out of his depth. 

Connor teaching him to swim is just… this amazing gift. 

He can’t even begin to explain just how much it means. To not be as afraid anymore. 

Once they’ve swum for a bit, they sit on the beach and watch the sunset. It’s nice just sitting and watching the waves. 

Evan looks over at Connor. At the way the light of the setting sun hits his face. 

He is… so fucking beautiful. 

“I love you,” Evan says quietly. 

Connor turns to look at him. Smiles so widely. 

“I love you, too.”

* * *

They are making out. 

It’s really fucking nice being able to kiss Evan. It’s like… Connor wants to make up for lost time. All of the months when he was thinking about kissing Evan but not kissing Evan. Those were dumb months. Connor’s dumb. 

He was so fucking stupid oh my god. 

Connor pulls away a little from Evan’s mouth to kiss his neck. He lets out this little whine from the back of his throat and Connor likes that a lot so he kisses Evan there again to see if he can make him make that noise twice. 

He can. 

Kissing Evan is awesome. 

Like, really fucking awesome. 

And Evan’s always, like. Trying to touch him. Not in a pervy way just. He touches Connor’s hair a lot, which he really likes. Like. He really likes it a lot. And he touches Connor’s shoulders. Once he said that he thought they were nice shoulders and Connor thought his head was going to bounce right off of his shoulders then because he always thought they were kind of skinny and awkward and weird. 

“Hey,” Connor says when Evan pulls away to look at him. 

“What?” Evan says, his cheeks all flushed, his lips red from kissing. He looks so fucking good. He’s all pressed against Connor and Connor really likes that, actually, because he can tell Evan’s into it, he can feel that he’s into this and that’s. Really good. Huge ego boost. He’s the one making Evan react this way. 

“Just. You’re so…” Connor doesn’t even have words, he kinda just groans a little frustratedly. “I love you? You’re so… good.” 

Evan blushes darker then. “I d-don’t even know what I’m doing,” He says laughing a little. 

“Whatever it is is really great,” Connor says. He kisses Evan again. Evan’s smiling against his mouth. His mouth always tastes good too which is great. Connor sort of suspects that Evan’s a little obsessive about brushing his teeth. He explained that he wasn’t really allowed to do it for the first couple of weeks in the hospital and it made him feel like “super gross.” So Connor can’t blame him. 

Maybe he should be brushing his teeth more?

They just sort of lie there together after a while. The kissing isn’t really going anywhere. Connor doesn’t need it to. He just likes being this close to Evan. It’s so good. Evan’s sort of half on top of him, his one leg hooked between Connor’s, and that’s really nice. It’s really nice. 

“So,” Evan says suddenly. He kisses Connor’s cheek. Nuzzles his neck with his nose. “I uh. Am I okay at this?”

“Uh,” Connor says because how the hell is he even asking that, he’s amazing, he’s the best. Holy fuck he’s so good. “You’re joking right? You know you’re like. Amazing right?”

Evan’s cheeks go pink. “You’re not just saying that?”

Connor sighs, kissing Evan’s face several times. “No. And I think you  _ know  _ that,” He says softly, and he twitches his hips up ever so slightly to draw attention to how much this is absolutely working for him. 

Evan laughs a little. “Just…” he says, kissing the corner of Connor’s mouth. “I know you’ve like. K-kissed other people and…done other stuff.”

Connor looks at Evan seriously. He blinks a few times. “Evan…” He swallows hard. “Evan, I love you.”

“I know,” Evan says. “And I l-love you too. But that doesn’t, like, just m-make me good at this?”

“But you are,” Connor insists. “Like there’s no comparison. You’re great.” 

“You don’t… I know I’m your boyfriend,” Evan huffs. “But… You don’t need to say that.”

Connor sits up. Evan follows him. “I’m not just saying that.”

“But you’ve got… l-like. Experience.”

Connor feels his face get warm. “Not like… that much.” 

“You’ve slept with two people,” Evan says. “And… made out with more people. Y-you’ve made out with girls you don’t even remember.”

Connor frowns. “And you think that’s something you need to worry about? Girls?”

“Y-you’re always texting that girl Laura,” Evan mumbles awkwardly. 

“From my eating disorder group,” Connor says. “All we do is complain about like. Food. I don’t like her. I love  _ you,  _ you dork.”

Evan’s cheeks are still pink. “I dunno. You said it w-wasn’t like. Bad. Kissing girls.”

“Yeah but it wasn’t, like, great either,” Connor says, shrugging. “It wasn’t anything like kissing you.” 

“Well what about Miguel?” Evan says, frowning. “Or-or Reg?”

Connor’s face is really hot now. “I mean that was, like, better. But you’re still better.” 

“Bullshit.” 

“No, not bullshit,” Connor says, taking Evan’s face in his hands. “No. Listen to me. I love you. I’m in love with you. And you are the best person I’ve ever kissed.”

“Connor, come on,” Evan says, rolling his eyes. 

“No, you come on,” Connor replies. “You are. I wouldn’t lie to you. Nothing compares to kissing you okay. Nobody compares.”

Evan sighs, then pulls Connor close and buries his face against Connor’s neck. Connor suspects it’s partly so he doesn’t have to look Connor in the eye. “I just… I w-worry I won’t be able to… to… Measure up?”

Connor almost laughs but manages to stop himself. That’s unkind. “Evan, please tell me you’re not worried about, like…  _ size _ .”

“Well. That’s. Like. Not…  _ not _ something I’m worrying about,” He mumbles against Connor’s neck. Kisses him there. Connor shivers. He really likes that. 

“Well like. That’s…  _ don’t _ ?”

“Why not?” He huffs again. “All I have to compare you to is…Myself-”

“Zoe,” Connor says with a slight frown at the same time. 

Apparently Evan was still talking about dicks. 

Shit. 

“Please don’t say it like that,” Evan says, his voice muffled because he’s basically hiding under Connor’s hair. Connor half suspects Evan would crawl right into his t-shirt if he could fit. 

“Well it’s true. You’ve kissed her and… whatever.” 

He doesn’t really know what the “whatever” involves. From what he’s gathered, Zoe kinda got naked for him and… Connor would rather not know. He doesn’t want to know. 

He would prefer to continue not knowing. For his own… dignity. Connor doesn’t want to be comparing himself to his sister. That’s gross. 

“It’s not the same,” Evan says. 

“It’s exactly the same,” Connor replies, extracting Evan from where he’s hiding so he can kiss him lightly on the nose. Evan smiles a little. “Only it’s worse because like. She and I are  _ related _ .”

Evan still looks unconvinced. “Just… what if I’m bad at this?”

“You’re not,” Connor says simply. He’s not. 

Evan frowns. “We’re barely d-done anything.”

“So? You’re good at it and you’ve never even done it before. You’re a natural.” He kisses Evan again. 

“But -”

Connor sighs. “What do you need to know from me?” He asks gently. He pushes some of Evan’s hair out of his face. Rests his hand on the back of his neck and gently gently gently scratches with his fingernails. Evan’s eyes slip closed. Connor’s noticed that he seems to like that. “I’m an open book, okay? What do you want to know?”

“This is… embarrassing,” Evan replies, pulling away and hiding his face in a pillow. “I’m being dumb.”

“No,” Connor says. He lays down beside Evan, on his back, looking at the ceiling. “Here. See? You don’t need to look at me. Just tell me what you wanna know.”

Evan lets out a slightly breathy laugh. He turns onto his back. His fingers grope for Connor’s and when they find them, Evan squeezes tightly. He takes a breath. It’s sort of uneven. Connor worries that he might be in pain. 

“What do you like?” Evan asks. 

So Connor wasn’t expecting that. He was expecting more like “how big is Reg’s dick” or “have you given a lot of blowjobs” or whatever. He wasn’t expecting that. 

“Oh. Uh,” Connor says sort of cluelessly. “You mean like…?”

“With. Sex stuff. What… what do you like?”

Connor blinks. 

He never really thought about it, honestly. 

He never got much further than “boys” and then he was just like. Having sex with a guy. Like. He doesn’t really know that. 

He says as much to Evan. “Nobody’s ever really, like. Asked that.”

“Really?” Evan says. He sounds… nervous. “So I’m being weird, cool, I’ll just-”

“No. You’re not,” Connor says, squeezing his hand tightly. “You’re not. I just… I dunno. I don’t have a good answer I guess. Like… normal stuff?”

Evan huffs out a breath. “That’s not very helpful.”

Connor’s face heats up. “Sorry. I just. I dunno. I don’t really, ever, like, think about it? I guess. Like… what do you like?”

Evan almost laughs. “M-my experience is limited to one handjob,” He says. “And s-s-s-some kissing. So. That, I guess?”

Connor nods. 

He still doesn’t have a good answer. He… it feels almost wrong to think about it in those terms. About what he wants out of sex or whatever. 

Like it makes it gross or pervy or whatever. 

“Well… okay. So. In D.C.”

Connor flinches. Evan squeezes his hand harder. 

But he presses on. “You uh. You were… He hurt you,” Evan says softly. “Miguel. You were in pain.” Connor doesn’t look at Evan but he nods slightly. “Why? What uh… what went wrong?”

Connor feels his face heat up. “Uh. I was… stupid?” He sighs. “We didn’t have. Like. Actual lube?” He flinches again as he says it because it is so weird to be talking about this. “Or even, like, condoms.” 

“Oh,” Evan says. 

“And I… We used lotion?” Connor shakes his head. “Which I don’t suggest because apparently sometimes lotion has, like, dyes and alcohol in them and that… can. Hurt. Like. Burn.” He closes his eyes really tight. This is pretty embarrassing, and he doesn’t super want to get into the intricacies of the fact that his  _ ass _ was in pain for a day or two after. That he hurt all over because M wasn’t super considerate with the way he topped Connor. 

“Uh. When you. Um. When you’re…” Connor breathes in. Breathes out. “When you... Uh. When you’re the bottom, you have to be like. Ready, you know? Like. It’s not like with a girl where, like, it’s already… wet and whatever. You need. Lube or whatever. You gotta… prepare?” He clears his throat. He’s gonna die of embarrassment. “Normally. When you start. You’ll like. Take a second or whatever to… make sure the person bottoming is like. Okay? Like it… it takes a sec, or whatever. To like. Feel okay? For things to like.  _ Fit.  _ It can kinda… it doesn’t exactly  _ hurt _ , but it’s not like. Immediately comfortable?” Connor sighs. “And we uh. Didn’t do that. We just. Got right to it.”

“Oh.” 

“And he was. Kinda. Rough with me?” Connor says, his face heating up. “Which like. I didn’t  _ mind _ , exactly, but… I dunno. It sort of. Felt like he didn’t care about how it felt for me?”

Evan makes a noise like he’s annoyed by that. “Jerk.” 

Connor sighs. 

“So do you… like. Do you  _ normally… _ ?”

Connor gets what he means. “Yeah. I’ve only uh. Ever. Actually. I’ve never, uh. Actually....” 

“Oh.” Evan nods. “So you like it then? Bottoming?”

Connor feels his face heat up. “Yeah. It’s. Not gonna lie, it can be like. Super weird? But. Yeah. I like it?”

He can’t really talk more about it because then he’ll start thinking about how it would feel if  _ Evan  _ topped him… fuck he can’t be thinking about that right now. 

“Okay. Good to uh. Good to know.” 

* * *

Evan feels a little bit like his head is going to explode. 

This conversation is… awkward as fuck. It really is just so fucking awkward. 

But he’s going to do it, because Connor deserves to feel good. Deserves to have what he wants, deserves to have a good time and feel good. 

Evan is so stupidly in love with him that it’s almost ridiculous. He just wants him to feel good. Whatever that looks like for him. 

It’s just that there’s so much Evan doesn’t know. 

Like, he’d never even thought about lube, but from the sounds of things it’s really fucking important, and they tell you all about condoms in sex ed but no one ever talks about lube and is that homophobic?

“Probably?”

Fuck. “I didn’t m-mean to say that out loud, fuck.” 

“You’re not wrong,” Connor says, a little thoughtfully. He squeezes his hand again. Evan really likes it. “No one, like, talks about it.” 

“So h-how are you supposed to kn-know, then?” Evan asks. “Like, if n-no one tells you?” 

“I guess you just hope that the person you’re doing it with has some kind of a clue,” Connor replies. He sounds uncomfortable. 

Evan knows why, of course. 

He stares at the ceiling. 

“So did M have a clue?” he asks. “The first time?”

Connor’s quiet for a moment. “I mean, he’d done it before,” Connor says after a while. He seems to be choosing his words carefully. “He’d, like. He’d bottomed before? So he knew what it was going to be like for me, and, like… talked me through it.” Connor clears his throat. “But we didn’t… it just kind of happened. We didn’t really talk about it or anything, which is… I guess not great.”

“You h-had, like, c-condoms and lube then, though, right?”

“Yeah,” Connor says. “He, uh… he had all of that. And it was…”

There’s this long pause. 

Connor lets out a sigh. 

“I was so fucking nervous.”

Something in Evan’s chest untwists a little. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” says Connor. He turns over on his side so he’s facing Evan. Evan carefully does the same. “It’s a huge deal to be vulnerable with someone like that. I was… I was kind of reckless? I guess? Looking back, I…” He shrugs a little. “It was awkward. And weird and… I dunno man, sex is so fucking weird.”

Evan has to laugh at that. “It really is,” he agrees. He reaches out and puts his hand on Connor’s waist tentatively. “When we have sex, I want it to be good for you.” 

Connor blinks. Looks at him with this soft expression. “When?” 

Evan feels his cheeks burn but he nods. “When,” he assures him. “I… I always want you to f-feel good, that’s… that’s all I want.” 

Connor smiles this soft, fond smile. “You don’t have to worry about me,” he says gently. “It’ll be your first time. I want you to have, like, the best first time.”

Evan feels his cheeks get even hotter. “I, uh… I l-l-like it when you… I like knowing I’ve made you feel good?” 

Connor blinks. “Yeah?”

Emboldened, Evan moves a little closer. “I just…” He moves closer and presses a kiss to Connor’s neck, then closes his eyes. “I know that I f-fucked everything up after, but I… I-I k-keep thinking about that night.”

Evan can feel Connor’s pulse quickening against him. They’re so close. “You do?”

“I do,” Evan says, his voice coming out rougher than he intends it to. “I, uh… I think about that a lot. About touching you and… you looked so good? And you sounded… really good and I… I really want to see that again. To hear that again.”

Connor swallows hard, and Evan can feel the motion, he’s so close. 

“You, uh. You looked good, too. Just… just so you know. It was… really hot.” He pulls away a little so he can actually look Evan in the eye. “Just… you have to promise me something, okay?”

Evan thinks he knows where this is going. “I won’t leave. I promise I won’t leave.”

“You promise?” Connor asks again, something haunted in his tone. “Because I know you keep saying that it wasn’t me, but-”

Evan pushes his hair off his face and Connor stops speaking. Looks at Evan with wide eyes. Evan leans forward and kisses him. 

Really kisses him. 

Connor kisses him back almost immediately, and fucking hell he’s good at this, Evan really, really likes kissing Connor he is his absolute favorite person to kiss. 

When they break apart, they’re both a little breathless. 

“Not leaving,” Evan tells him. “Okay? Not going anywhere.”

“Holding you to that,” says Connor, before kissing him hard. Evan responds by kissing his neck, just at the jawline, and Connor lets out this contented sound that’s the best thing ever, it’s just really nice, and Evan is determined he’s going to make it happen again. Before he does, Connor fires back with a sneak attack kiss to Evan’s neck that makes him feel a little bit like he’s floating, and he responds by just kissing Connor’s lips again. 

Which are very nice lips. They’re a little chapped but they’re perfect. 

Just perfect. 

Evan’s hands find Connor’s waist, moving up under his shirt. “This okay?” he asks, and Connor nods, kissing him again. Evan likes being skin to skin, likes the way it makes it feel like he’s impossibly close, and thinks about what it might be like to. 

Be with Connor in that way. 

He’d be careful, he knows. He’d make sure he was ready. He wouldn’t rush it, he’d make sure he was okay, he’d make sure he was  _ great.  _

Fuck Miguel for not caring about how Connor felt. That’s bullshit. Total bullshit. How the fuck could he not be, like, completely obsessed with the way Connor looks and sounds and feels when he’s like this? How could he not want to just…

Evan is absolutely not going to keep thinking about that jerk right now. 

He kisses Connor’s neck. “Is it… can I take off your pants?”

Connor looks at him. “Are you sure?”

Evan nods. “Completely. Really sure.”

Connor kisses him. Nods. Unbuckles his belt. Evan helps peel off his skinny jeans, joking the whole time that they’re obviously torture devices, then kisses Connor’s neck. His ear. His cheek. 

“Can I touch you?”

“You don’t have to-”

“That’s not answering my question,” Evan tells him, kissing his neck. “Can I touch you?”

“Yeah,” Connor says breathlessly. Evan kisses him on the lips. Slips his hand into his boxers. 

It’s every bit as wonderful as he remembers. As he keeps imagining in his head. Connor sounds so good, looks so good, and he tells Evan that he loves him as he finishes. Smiles this huge, kind of dopey-looking smile right after. Evan gets him cleaned up then pulls Connor toward him, noticing that he’s shaking a little bit. 

“Are you okay?” he asks nervously. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No,” Connor assures him. “I just…” He looks right at Evan, his eyes blazing. “You promise you won’t go?”

“I won’t,” Evan tells him. “I swear.”

Connor kisses his neck. Wraps his arm around Evan’s waist. “You should, uh. Let me return the favor.”

Evan is so very fucking tempted. 

God knows he’s dreamed about Connor enough these past few weeks. Dreamed about this, about this and more. 

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he tries to explain, “but I’m kind of, like…” He bites his lip. “So basically I’m worried that you’ll break my brain. If you touch me, my brain might actually explode. And the doctors put all that work in trying to fix it, so… maybe not right now?”

Connor frowns. “Are you in pain?” he asks immediately. “Fuck, do you need to take something?”

“I’m in, like, the normal amount of pain,” says Evan honestly. “It’s not, like, worse than usual? I’m just…” He pauses. Tries to make it make sense. “I just need a little bit more time, I think.” 

Connor looks at him, his frown deepening. “It’s not fair that you-”

“Trust me,” Evan interrupts, his cheeks getting hot. “It was plenty fair. That was… I really like being able to do that? Knowing that I made you feel good is… I like it a lot.”

Connor’s still looking at him, seemingly a little unsure. “We totally could have waited if you weren’t ready.”

“I’m not ready to be touched just yet,” Evan tells him gently. “But I was ready for this bit. Okay?”

Connor bites his lip. It’s stupidly cute. Evan has no choice but to kiss him. Pull him a little closer. Connor lets out a sigh, mutters something about how he’ll allow it this once, and snuggles up against him. 

This is… perfect. 

Genuinely perfect. Evan could stay here forever and he wouldn’t feel like he’d missed out on anything. 

“I really love you,” he tells Connor quietly. “Okay?”

“I love you,” Connor mumbles sleepily against Evan’s neck. “Don’t go.”

“I won’t,” Evan promises. 

He doesn’t. 

* * *

  
Connor’s mom is coming home. And Connor… isn’t sure how to fucking deal with that. 

Fact is that they’ve had a good thing going without his mom in the house. His dad comes home at a decent time. They eat dinner together at least three nights a week. Connor and his dad do lunch once a week. They’re all getting along. Talking even. 

And his mom is going to come home and Connor is terrified. 

He won’t admit it to Evan because. Well. Evan has  _ reasons  _ to be scared of his dad. His dad nearly killed him. 

Connor’s mom smacked him a few times. Like. That’s it. 

Evan’s dad used to call him horrible names. Call him retarded and a faggot and nearly fucking murdered him for saying he’d kissed a boy. 

Connor’s mom called him a faggot but. Only one time. And sure it was public and it was humiliating but. It wasn’t as bad as Evan’s dad. 

So it’s really stupid for him to be scared. 

But he is. He’s scared. It keeps him up at night. Keeps him up in bed in the pool house, lying in the dark counting the freckles on Evan’s face. 

Worrying. 

She could start drinking again. 

She could still try to get Evan into trouble for the drugs. Even though Connor knows she knows by now that it was Jared. His dad called her the night after Connor got arrested. 

Connor’s freaked out. 

She could still try to send him away. Rehab or no rehab, there’s no guarantee that she’s going to be any different when she gets back. And he’s scared. And he knows how fucking stupid that is.

He’s over six feet tall. He knocked out two of Jared Kleinman’s teeth with his bare hands. He broke Mark’s fingers. 

His mom is not a threat. She’s not. 

But he’s scared. 

And angry. 

Angry his dad is letting her back in the house even though Connor has refused to even visit her in rehab. Angry that for all of the apologizing she’s done, she’s never been brave enough to  _ ask him  _ to visit so she could do it to his face. 

Connor’s pissed and worried and scared and he doesn’t want Evan to have to deal with that. He’s got problems that kick Connor’s problems’ asses. His problems eat Connor’s for breakfast. 

So he does his best just… not to mention it. And as the day she comes home gets closer, Connor all but stops going home except for clean clothes and books. He’ll just. Stay with Evan. Where she wouldn’t dare show her face. 

* * *

Summer school could be worse, Evan decides as the weeks go on. It could be a lot worse. Being at school over summer isn’t what anyone wants and he’s pissed at himself that he got himself into this situation, but honestly… 

It’s not that bad. 

He’s still struggling a little with headaches. With reading and looking at screens. He’s exhausted at the end of the day and it means he sleeps like a log. 

But he gets through the material quickly. He likes engaging his brain, likes actually learning. And it’s kind of nice that there aren’t a lot of people around. There aren’t many people taking summer school. Most of the other students are people who failed classes, or who are trying to bring their grades up. 

The only person Evan actually recognizes properly is Tommy Whittington, who had genuinely seemed really excited to see him for some reason. 

“I’m so glad they fixed your brain,” Tommy tells him a few weeks into summer school. “It would, like, suck for you to have a broken brain forever.”

Evan finds that once he’s used to it, it’s kind of… easy. He very rarely has to bring anything home with him. Which means he has time to spend with Connor. 

A lot of time to spend with Connor. 

There’s nothing he likes more than spending time with Connor. Even before Evan realized how he really felt about him, he always liked spending time with Connor. Connor’s the first person who’s ever understood him. The first person who ever  _ tried _ to understand him. 

It’s strange and it’s wonderful, having someone who gets him. 

When they’re not at summer school, it’s not like they’re getting up to anything particularly exciting. Sometimes they just sit by the pool and listen to music. Sometimes they swim. Sometimes they curl up in Evan’s bed in the pool house and just… exist together. 

As Evan gets more confident in his swimming, they spend more time at the beach. Swimming in the ocean is completely different to swimming in a pool, but Evan likes it. Likes how it moves. Likes how the depth changes gradually. He can venture out as deep as he feels comfortable, which at the moment isn’t all that deep. 

He prefers swimming in the ocean, he decides after a few weeks. 

It’s so strange to look back and realize how Evan’s feelings about being in the water have changed. How quickly they’ve changed. He spent years terrified of drowning because he just… didn’t know what he was doing. Didn’t understand how to work  _ with  _ the water. 

It’s a cliche metaphor, but that doesn’t mean it’s not apt. 

He’s spent so much of his life fighting. Fighting on his own.

And then he met Connor. And someone was fighting alongside him. 

He doesn’t have the words to explain what that means. 

Explain how wonderful and rare and incredible that is. 

They’re curled on the loveseat on the porch of the beach house, both still damp from their swim. The air is warm and Connor’s hair smells like salt. 

“I love you,” Evan tells him, because he can’t not. 

Connor smiles at him, this bright smile that makes Evan’s heart beat too fast, and kisses him.

They sit there until the sun sets, listening to the sound of the waves. 

Evan still can’t quite believe this is his life now. 

He’s never felt so safe. 

* * *

  
Connor still can’t like. Totally believe that his dad and Heidi are chill with him sleeping in Evan’s bed every night.

Like. He keeps waiting for his dad to revoke the whole “be safe but do whatever” edict he handed down a few weeks ago. 

But his mom is back now and Connor’s avoiding her and so his dad is maybe being a little too lax with the sleepovers every night and never telling Connor he needs to come home. And he doesn’t question it because… 

Because it makes  _ this  _ possible. 

This being making out with Evan and touching his bare chest in the pool house. The two of them pressed up against each other, breathing kind of hard.

Evan has still been a bit unsure about letting Connor touch him back. But he says he’s comfortable with above the waist stuff so Connor is. Enjoying that. Enjoying being able to peel off Evan’s shirt and kiss his chest and shoulders and back. 

Connor thinks Evan has an unfairly hot back. It’s all. Muscle and bone and warm skin and Connor likes tracing his fingers down Evan’s spine because it makes him shiver and sometimes he lets out this little  _ noise _ that makes Connor want to beg, actually  _ beg,  _ to be allowed to touch him. 

And that’s the position he finds himself in that night. Kissing the back of Evan’s neck. Touching the curve of his spine. Relishing in the small frustrated noises Evan makes. 

“I uh…” Evan says breathlessly. “I’ve been. Doing some uh… some research?”

“Research?” Connor repeats, sitting back on his heels. 

Evan clears his throat. Nods. “Yeah.” He kisses Connor’s mouth. Then his neck. “About. Uh. About blow jobs?”

Connor thinks he might die right there. Or like. Finish right there. Maybe both. Come and then die, instantly. 

“Okay I gotta know what kind of research you’ve been doing?” Connor says, smiling. 

Evan’s cheeks get darker in the dim light. “N-normal. Normal research.”

Connor smirks. “So I’m in gym class for summer school and you’re watching porn. I see.”

“No! Oh my god, n-no, p-p-porn is  _ gross  _ and-and full of, like, victims of trafficking,” Evan says. 

“Alana would be so pleased to hear you say that,” Connor remarks. 

“So I looked it up? Like. How you uh… do it. But I haven’t practiced because that was just a step too weird, but I think I know what I’m doing.”

Connor thinks that’s the moment he almost dies. He has to take a genuine moment to clear his head. “You want… you want to… on me?”

Evan licks his lips. Then nods. “Yeah.”

Connor bites his own lip. “Okay like. As much as I want that… which  _ fuck  _ I really do… I. You had  _ brain  _ surgery. I don’t want my dick near your head.”

Evan gives him this sort of lopsided smile. “Hate to break it to you but I-I don’t think it’s quite  _ that  _ b-big Connor.”

Connor laughs. “No. Sorry that’s not what I mean. I’m more worried about like. I’d move too much and you’d bang your head.” He shrugs. “I’m bony.”

Evan nods, looking a bit disappointed. “I just. Really like making you feel good.”

“I know,” Connor says. He kisses the side of Evan’s head. “And trust me I… would fucking love that. But. I… realistically I’d be a little too worried about bashing your skull in to enjoy it.”

Evan nods. 

“Can we table that? Just. For right now?”

Evan nods again. “Of course.” He smiles a bit. “I can do more research then.”

Connor laughs a bit. And then. “Or… I could show you?”

Evan blinks. “Like… on a banana or something?”

Connor bites his lip. Considers his next words very very carefully. “If you’re still not ready for me to touch you, I totally get it. And I won’t push. But if you wanted I could… I could?”

Evan seems to have been struck momentarily speechless. He looks at Connor like he’s never seen anything quite like him before. 

“If it’s too much then forget I said anything-”

“Are you  _ sure _ ?” Evan asks. 

Connor smiles in surprise. “Are you fucking kidding me? Yes. Of course I’m sure. I basically have to spend every second we’re alone together telling myself not to just like. Maul you? I want to touch you so bad sometimes I like… have to give myself a very stern talking to about boundaries.”

“Seriously?” Evan says. 

Connor nods frantically. “I love you. You have no  _ idea  _ how much I think about touching you. How badly I want to make  _ you  _ feel good. But only if you want it okay?”

Evan’s cheeks blush even darker. “I think I’m… I think I’m ready? Like. Only if you wanna…”

Connor smiles so wide he fears his face will slide right off. “Seriously? You’re sure? Because I don’t wanna pressure you or like. Do something you don’t totally want.”

Evan nods. “I’m sure. Fuck, I. I think about it all the time? It’s kinda embarrassing really…”

Connor kisses him hard. “Nothing about wanting to be touched is embarrassing, alright? So jot that down.”

Evan grins. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Connor says before kissing him again. Kissing him like he means it. Kissing Evan with all he’s got. 

They break apart breathless. Connor’s heart is  _ pounding.  _ “Can I please? Can I please touch you? I’ve been dying to touch you again for  _ ages _ .”

Evan seems to be considering it. He nods, a little shyly. “You actually wanna… you know…?”

“If that’s okay?” Connor says. “I just. God the idea of you… yes. Yes if you want that then I want that.”

Evan nods, almost frantically, and then Connor kisses him again. Kisses every inch of him he can reach. Evan seems to like it. His back arches and he sighs and then Connor asks the million dollar question: “Can I please take off your pants?”

Evan nods. He’s smiling. “Anything I… I should know?” He asks as Connor gently pulls off his pajamas. 

“Uh,” Connor says. He feels his cheeks heating up. “My gag reflex is… is kinda sensitive?”

Evan’s brows knit together. “You don’t have to-”

“I want to,” Connor replies. He means it. “But if you could. Like. Try not to like. Shove your dick down my throat? I’d rather not like. Throw up on you.”

Evan blinks. Nods to himself. “Okay?”

Connor blushes harder. “It’s a little. Easier said than done. Once you. Get started?”

“Noted.”

“Okay,” Connor says. He feels a little nervous. He hopes he’s not over selling his skills. “You’re sure about this?”

Evan nods. 

“Okay,” Connor says. “I’m. I’m gonna use my hand a bit first? If that’s okay. Make sure you’re… okay?”

Evan nods. He’s breathing raggedly. Connor kisses him hard. Pulls off his boxers. And touches him. 

Evan throws his head back almost immediately. “Fuck.”

“You alright?” Connor asks.

“Yes.”

“Can I keep going?”

“ _ Please _ .”

Connor smiles up at him. Kisses him again, really kisses him, kisses him while he touches him and then murmurs, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Evan says. Like it’s difficult to concentrate. Connor likes that. He  _ really  _ likes that. 

He kisses Evan once more, then slowly kisses his way down Evan’s body. Over his chest and stomach. Evan shivers. 

“Tell me if anything feels weird or not right, okay?” Connor says. “If you wanna stop for  _ any  _ reason.”

Evan smiles. Nods. “Connor please,” he says, his voice just on the edge of desperation. 

Connor licks his lips. 

Lowers his head. 

Evan gasps. Like genuinely actually gasps. And it’s like. The best noise Connor has ever heard in his whole life. 

“Can I keep going?” He asks, pulling back. 

“Yes. Oh my god, yes.”

He does. Evan’s hips buck a little and when Connor starts to use his hand as well as his mouth, he basically shudders and then Evan’s fingers are in Connor’s hair and he’s not being overly gentle he’s practically pulling it and. 

Fuck that’s hot. 

“Shit sorry,” Evan says, relaxing his grip on Connor's hair. “I sh-should have asked I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I. I really like that?”

“Yeah?”

Connor nods. “Yeah. I do. It feels awesome.” He pulls himself up and gives Evan a chaste peck on the lips. “Are you taking notes?” He asks, teasing a little. 

Evan nods like he’s overwhelmed. “D-d-diligent note taking. In my head.”

Connor kisses his neck. His shoulder. “I wanna make you feel good,” he says softly against Evan’s ear. “Can I… can I please keep going until you finish? Please?”

Evan looks conflicted. “Are you sure? I don’t want… You don’t  _ have  _ to…”

Connor kisses him again. Harder. Deeper this time. “I wanna make you feel good. It’s so… you look so good like this. And the way you  _ sound?  _ God I… I’d do this forever if I could.”

Evan grins widely, his cheeks so dark and flushed and his bottom lip is dark too from him biting it and he is so beautiful and he just looks at Connor. Really looks at him. 

“I want you,” Connor reiterates. “In case that wasn’t like. Abundantly clear. I want you and I want to make you feel good. I want to make you… finish.”

“Oh my god. Yes. Okay.” Evan nods. Slumps back against his pillows. 

Connor resumes. Evan’s hands are in his hair almost immediately. He works hard to elicit as many sounds out of Evan as he can. 

He’s pretty damn successful. Evan’s panting his name. His hands grip Connor’s hair tight. “Connor. Connor w-wait-”

He pulls back immediately. “Too much?”

Evan shakes his head. “Just-just I’m getting… I’m going to-”

That’s precisely what Connor wants. To watch him fall apart, to listen to the breathless way Evan says his name. “Okay,” Connor says, “That okay?” Evan nods and Connor resumes his actions and Evan’s gasping out Connor’s name. Over and over and over until he’s finishing and Connor loves him like this. Unguarded and open and… 

He’s so beautiful. So damn gorgeous. 

Once Evan’s done and he’s still again, Connor pulls him in and holds him so close. Connor wraps himself around Evan. Kisses him a few times. He’s a bit shaky. Evan’s so perfect. He’s so damn perfect in every way. Connor loves him so much. 

“You okay? I didn’t break your brain right?”

Evan kisses Connor hard. Touches their foreheads together. “I love you… I. That was.” He pulls away, flops back on the pillows, his arm thrown over his face. “I can’t even… Connor that was…. Amazing? You’re so. Wonderful?” 

Connor smiles. “I love you too,” he says. He kisses Evan’s shoulder and his neck and then his lips again. “God I wasn’t kidding. I could do that pretty much all day, every day. You looked so damn gorgeous.”

Evan sighs contentedly. “Is that so?”

Connor nods. “Not that you’re not always gorgeous. You are. You could be sneezing and still be stunning and beautiful and gorgeous and perfect.”

Evan laughs. “Liar.”

“I’d never lie about that,” Connor says softly. “You’re. Unbelievably beautiful Evan. Okay?”

* * *

Heidi’s trying to get out of the habit of taking work home with her, but she thinks she can make an exception tonight. Evan’s gone to bed, and she knows for a fact Connor’s there with him, so it’s not likely that she’s going to see either of them until tomorrow. 

If she thinks about it too hard, it’s a little weird that she and Larry are both so chill with Evan and Connor spending almost every night together. They’re seventeen, and most parents wouldn’t be thrilled at the idea. But it just seems cruel to separate them.

And she knows that Connor’s not going to let anything happen to Evan. 

Given how close he came to dying in April, she’s glad to know that he’s safe. It means she can rest easier. 

Heidi’s just poured herself a glass of wine and has work spread out all across the table when the doorbell rings, a little after nine. She looks up and frowns, her heart going a little too fast. 

She doesn’t get a lot of visitors. She has no idea who it could be. 

She genuinely considers just pretending she’s not home and ignoring it. 

After a moment, the doorbell rings again, and Heidi sighs. Stands up and heads to the door. 

And opens it to reveal Cynthia Murphy. 

Heidi blinks. 

“Hi,” says Cynthia, her tone polite. “Can I come in?”

“Is everything okay?” Heidi asks immediately. 

“It’s fine,” says Cynthia, something hesitant in her gaze. “Everything’s fine, I just… can I come in?”

Heidi opens the door a little wider. Leads her through the foyer to the living room, deciding it’s best to avoid the kitchen with her wine glass on the table, seeing as Cynthia’s only a few weeks out of rehab. 

She hasn’t actually seen her since she got home. Not really. Their paths don’t exactly cross at the best of times and Heidi hasn’t really felt the need to try to see Cynthia after everything. Even if they had reached some kind of tenuous truce, Heidi just can’t see them ever truly making things right between them. 

Not after everything that’s happened. 

“How are you?” Heidi asks once they’re sitting down. “How is it being home?”

Cynthia hesitates for a moment. “It’s hard,” she admits quietly. “It’s hard, knowing how much damage I’ve caused. Connor… he’s barely home, and when he is, we don’t exactly talk much.”

Heidi can’t say she blames him. She doesn’t really want to be talking to Cynthia either. 

“How’s Evan?” Cynthia asks, and her voice is hesitant but she sounds like she genuinely is interested in the answer. “Is summer school going okay? Larry says he still gets headaches.” 

“Well, he did have brain surgery a few months ago,” Heidi can’t help but point out. 

Cynthia’s face falls. She looks… sad. “I’m glad he’s okay,” she says, her voice small. “What happened to him must have been devastating for you.” She swallows audibly. “If it felt anything like how it felt to see Connor…”

Heidi feels her stomach churn. She closes her eyes for a moment. “It wasn’t a great time for anyone,” she says finally, looking at Cynthia. “But the kids are okay. They’re safe.”

Cynthia nods. Sighs. Twists her engagement ring around her finger awkwardly. Heidi can’t help but look at it. She still thinks it’s too big, too ostentatious, but it suits Cynthia, somehow. 

Almost without meaning to, Heidi looks at her own hands. At the engagement and wedding rings she’s still wearing, nearly two years since David passed. 

God, she can’t believe it’s been nearly two years. 

Can’t believe everything he’s missed. 

“David would have loved Evan,” Cynthia says, and it’s like she’s been reading Heidi’s mind, which is incredibly unnerving. “David… really wanted kids, he would have loved Evan.”

“I know,” Heidi says immediately. She can’t quite help what she says next. “He would have hated you trying to get him kicked out of school.”

Cynthia goes pale. Looks ashamed. 

Doesn’t say anything for a long time. 

Heidi’s about to just ask her what the hell she’s even doing here when she finally speaks up. 

“I think you and I both know that David would have hated a lot of the things I’ve done since he died.”

Heidi lets out a slow breath. She guesses it’s good that Cynthia’s admitting this, that she can see it now, but hindsight’s 20/20 and it doesn’t fucking help anyone. 

But it’s not like either of them can change what happened, so…

“Yeah,” Heidi says bluntly. “He would have. But if he was still around, things would have been different.” 

Cynthia worries her lip with her teeth. “Some things,” she confesses, her voice quiet. “But not everything. Some things I might have… never faced. Never confronted.” She scrunches up her nose. It’s a motion Heidi’s never seen her do before. Weirdly, it makes her look younger, which is hilarious considering that Heidi knows for a fact she’s definitely had work done. “Some of my shit was there under the surface all along. It just… bubbled up. It didn’t just come out of nowhere.”

Heidi has to admit, she wasn’t expecting that. 

It’s more honesty than she’d expected from Cynthia. 

“David used to call me on my shit when we were kids,” Cynthia continues quietly. “Used to tell me when I was being… stupid or shallow or ridiculous. I hated it. I hated it so much. But at the same time… no one else would ever tell me I was wrong. Everyone else just gave me everything I wanted, did whatever I wanted. Worshipped the ground I walked on, but not David. He saw me. Saw through me. Wanted me to be better.” She sighs. “Problem is, I never was.”

Heidi doesn’t know what to say. 

Doesn’t know how to respond. 

She is not this woman’s friend. That much she knows for sure. 

She is not Cynthia’s friend. In all honesty, she never really was. 

But Cynthia was David’s family. 

And that meant she was Heidi’s family. 

Perhaps it means that she still is. And maybe that’s just part of what makes it difficult. Because you don’t always choose your family. Sometimes they just happen without you even noticing. 

Cynthia sighs again. Reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small envelope, then hands it to Heidi. Heidi takes it and opens it to reveal an invitation on crisp white stationery. 

An invitation to the Murphy family’s Fourth of July barbecue. 

She and David always got an invitation. Every year, they’d get a hand-delivered invitation and every year, David would say how ridiculous it was for Cynthia to get invitations printed with David and Heidi’s names on them because they lived next door. They saw each other all the time. It was just a waste of money. 

But every year, David would put the invitation on the fridge and smile a little whenever he saw it. 

This year, the invitation is addressed to Heidi Herzberg and Evan Hansen. 

“You know we live next door,” Heidi says to Cynthia, smiling a little. “And the kids see each other all the time. Getting invitations printed with our names on it...”

“... is a waste of money,” Cynthia finishes, a fond smile on her face. “I know. That’s absolutely what he’d say.” Her smile fades. “I’m sorry I didn’t invite you last year.”

“I wouldn’t have come anyway,” Heidi admits. 

“I know,” Cynthia replies. Her shoulders sag. “I was awful to you, Heidi.”

“You were,” Heidi concedes. She frowns. “It’s not… not something either of us can change. And…” Heidi takes a breath. Steadies her shoulders. “Our kids are basically inseparable. We live next door. Your husband is one of my best friends. Like it or not, I think we might be stuck with each other.”

Cynthia looks at Heidi, something strange in her expression. 

“It might not be the worst thing in the world.”

* * *

  
Connor’s eyebrows travel up his head when his dad tells him that his mom is still throwing their annual 4th of July barbecue. They’re grabbing a late lunch on Thursday after summer school let out; Evan’s at a doctor’s appointment. 

Barbecue is a pretty loose term. Seeing as it is always catered. 

“She’s barely been home a week,” Connor says coldly. 

His dad nods. “I think she’s… trying. For something normal.”

Connor rolls his eyes. “Great. Back to normal.”

His dad sighs. 

“It’s not exactly like you’d know how she’s doing,” his dad says quietly. “You have barely been home since she got back.” 

Connor knew this would happen eventually. “You said it was fine for me to stay in the pool house with Evan,” Connor mutters. 

“And it  _ is, _ ” his dad repeats. “But it might be nice if you come home sometimes.”

“If you try to tell me I’m not being fair to  _ mom- _ ”

“I’m not,” his dad says, his hands up defensively. “You’re almost eighteen. You get to determine when you feel okay being around her again. But…”

Here it comes. 

“I miss seeing you at home is all,” his dad says sheepishly. “And next year you’ll be away for college…”

Something kind of grabs guiltily at Connor’s insides. 

“About that…”

His dad’s face settles into a hard line. “Connor please don’t start in on how you’re not going to college.”

Connor shakes his head. “No. That’s not… I was just. Thinking maybe I’d stay at home the first year or something? Maybe?” He fiddles with the sleeve of his hoodie. “I uh. Going away next year sounds… kinda soon.”

His dad nods. He looks... relieved. “Okay. We can talk about it more once you start applying to places. You could go to UCLA or…” his dad shakes his head. “We can talk about it more later.”

Connor smiles. 

He sucks in a deep breath. “Are you going to tell me I have to go to the barbecue?”

“No,” his dad says gently. “But I will  _ ask  _ if you’ll think about coming.” He smiles a little sadly. “Will you think about coming? For me at least? You know I always feel out of place at her parties.”

They have this in common. 

Connor considers. “Is there going to be an open bar again this year?”

His dad nods. “Not that I want you drinking-”

“I mean for  _ mom _ .”

His dad sighs. “Buddy I know you and your sister got the worst of it when she was drinking. I’m not going to force you to do something if it doesn’t feel safe.”

Connor nods. “If she starts drinking again…”

“I hope that she won’t.”

* * *

The invitation to the 4th of July barbecue is stuck to the fridge in the main house with a magnet. Even though it’s written on a cream colored stationery that isn’t all that different from the color of the fridge, it feels conspicuous. Out of place. 

Evan stops and looks at it every time he’s in the kitchen. 

It’s… 

It’s weird. 

Unnecessary, he thinks, because they live next door. They don’t need a paper invitation to a party that’s being held next door. 

But he guesses this is how Cynthia does things. Formally or whatever. 

Connor looks at it, too, Evan can tell. He frowns a little when he sees it, like he’s not sure what to make of it at all. 

Like it upsets him, somehow. 

“Are you going to go?” Evan finally asks, a few days before the event. 

Connor frowns. Blinks a few times. Shrugs, then runs a hand through his hair. 

“I don’t know,” he admits. He looks at Evan. “Are you?”

“Only if you do,” Evan says immediately. “I won’t go without you.”

Connor’s face softens. He kisses Evan gently. When they break apart, he looks… genuinely torn. “I know my dad wants me to,” he says hesitantly. “It’s just…”

“These big events are always full of booze,” Evan points out gently. “And you’re worried about your mom.” 

Connor shrugs again. “I… yeah.”

“I’m sure your dad will be keeping an eye on her,” Evan says a little feebly, hoping that it sounds at least slightly convincing. It’s supposed to be. Larry isn’t going to let Mrs. Murphy get drunk and hurt Connor, Evan’s sure of it. 

Then again, so much happened right under his nose before. 

So much happened that Larry didn’t even notice. 

Evan has to admit, a part of him is a little pissed at Larry for not noticing. A little disappointed that he didn’t realize that his wife was still drinking, that she was hurting Connor. Saying awful things. Hitting him. Trying to fucking  _ blackmail  _ him. 

They’ve had a lot of late night conversations about Connor’s mom recently. 

Well, not conversations, exactly - mostly just Connor verbally processing it all. 

Which is absolutely fair, and absolutely what he should be doing, and absolutely what Evan wants him to feel safe to do. Talk to Evan. Vent to Evan. Evan just wants to be there for him in any way he can. 

Which means he’ll come to this party if that’s what Connor wants. 

It’s not really fair to be pissed at Larry, Evan thinks. It’s obvious how much Larry cares about his kids. Completely obvious. Evan knows Larry wants Connor safe. Knows how hard he’s tried. Sees the effort that he’s made in the time that Evan’s known him. 

He also knows that it wasn’t always like that. 

That in a lot of ways, Larry’s as new to being a parent as Heidi is. 

Evan’s not sure how he feels about that. How he feels about the fact that in a lot of ways, Larry wasn’t really there for Connor and Zoe when they were kids. 

At the end of the day, though, there are things in everyone’s pasts they’d rather forget. 

And people learn, right? 

They learn and they grow. 

Making mistakes is just… part of how it all goes, Evan thinks. Fuck knows he’s made plenty of his own. 

So yeah, Evan’s a little pissed that Larry didn’t notice all the shit going down with Connor and his mom. But at the same time, Larry’s one of the few adults in Evan’s life who isn’t total garbage, so he’s willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. 

Connor sighs, and Evan takes his hand. Squeezes it tightly. 

“Alana and Zoe and Sabrina are all going,” Connor says softly. “To this barbecue. Alana texted me to let me know.” 

“We can just hang with them,” Evan offers. “We could avoid your mom entirely, if that’s what you wanted.” 

Connor’s shoulder sag. He looks young and tired and confused. 

“I don’t know,” he admits quietly. “I don’t know if that’s what I want.” He looks at Evan, his eyes wide and brimming with sadness. “When it comes to my mom? I just don’t know.” 

* * *

Heidi’s not exactly looking forward to this barbecue. 

She’s not exactly dreading it, but she’s not exactly looking forward to it, either. 

It just kind of… is. 

When she goes to choose an outfit to wear to the party, she finds herself lingering over this blue and yellow sundress David always used to say he really liked. 

It takes her a moment to remember that she bought this years ago on a shopping trip with Cynthia. 

While Heidi and Cynthia were never really friends, exactly, they used to spend a lot of time together. More than Heidi really wanted to, in all honesty. Heidi and David were at the Murphys almost every weekend when the kids were little, and there were plenty of occasions where Heidi, David, Cynthia and Larry would go out for dinner together. 

Like a double date. 

Those evenings were kind of nice, Heidi remembers. David and Larry would always make these dumb jokes, and Cynthia would roll her eyes and look at Heidi with this kind of exasperated by fond look and make some comment about the boys being idiots, and it all kind of felt… like it fit. 

Like the four of them fit. Even if Heidi didn’t think that much of Cynthia, when it was the four of them she wasn’t that bad. 

Cynthia had taken Heidi shopping one weekend maybe six months before David died, claiming that she had to do something about her dated wardrobe, and Heidi remembers arguing with her for hours but somehow ending up purchasing every single item of clothing Cynthia picked out. 

Heidi puts on the sundress. It’s a little lower than she normally wears, than she’s usually comfortable with. The colors are bolder than she usually wears, too. The skirt flows nicely and with her hair down and curled she looks younger than she is. 

Dammit. It’s extremely flattering on her. 

She hates it when Cynthia’s right. 

Once Evan and Connor are ready to go, the three of them cross the backyard and head over to the Murphys. There aren’t many people there compared to most years, but it’s early still, so Heidi figures they might still be coming. 

It doesn’t take Evan and Connor long to excuse themselves to go hang out with Zoe and Sabrina and Alana, leaving Heidi standing there on the mostly empty patio leading to the backyard, feeling out of place in a house she knows back to front. A house she’s been visiting for over seventeen years. 

“Heidi!”

She looks over to see Larry coming toward her, a big smile on his face. He pulls her into a hug as soon as he’s in range, then when they pull apart, looks her up and down and smiles even bigger. 

“David loved this dress,” Larry says, something fond in his voice. “You wore it when we all went to that restaurant by the beach and David wouldn’t stop talking about how beautiful you were.”

There’s a stabbing pain in her chest. 

Thinking about David still hurts. 

She thinks it always will. 

“How’s Cynthia?” Heidi asks, her voice quiet. “She doing okay?”

Larry’s face falls a little bit. He looks around the mostly empty patio. “She’s putting on a brave face, but… I think she expected a better turnout. She’s in the kitchen.”

Heidi nods. Looks around again. 

It’s definitely emptier than these events usually are. There are people she recognizes, sure, but nowhere near the numbers the Murphys’ annual 4th of July barbecue usually attract. Larry walks Heidi over to the bar where they both get a drink, and end up in conversation with Rhonda from their firm. 

Larry’s firm now. 

Rhonda and Larry start in on a conversation, but Heidi can’t quite focus on it. She’s too busy looking around, trying to see if she can get a glimpse of Cynthia. 

At least they know she’s not by the bar. 

After maybe twenty minutes, Heidi excuses herself and heads into the house. When she gets to the kitchen, she sees Cynthia there, talking to one of the wait staff quietly. 

“How’s it going?” Heidi asks. Cynthia looks up at her and her face falls a little. 

She looks… stressed. A little sad. A lot embarrassed. 

The wait staff member she was talking to puts on a jacket and heads out of the room Cynthia looks at Heidi. “It’s going terribly,” she admits, her voice quiet. “I’m sending the wait staff home. There aren’t enough people here to make it worth their while.”

Heidi blinks. “You’re still paying them for the whole night, though, right?”

Cynthia rolls her eyes. “Of course I am,” she replies, sounding a little irritated at the question. Her face falls even more. She looks at the counter, deliberately avoiding Heidi’s gaze. “I don’t need people wandering around handing out food and listening to all the horrible things people are saying about me. I’ll hand out the food by myself so they have to say it to my face.”

Heidi rolls her eyes. “Oh please,” she says. “No one around here says anything to your face.”

Cynthia lets out a sharp laugh. She finally looks at Heidi. “You’re not wrong,” she mutters. She blinks, then looks Heidi up and down. “David liked that dress.”

“I know,” Heidi says. She takes in a slow breath. “You always did have good taste.”

Cynthia sniffs. Tucks her hair behind her ear in an action that weirdly reminds Heidi of Connor. “Well, you always needed some steering in the right direction.” 

Heidi picks up a platter of what looks like some kind of tiny sandwich. “Okay,” she says. “Since you sent home the wait staff, you’ll need someone to help get rid of all this food. I’ll make the rounds.”

Cynthia’s eyes go wide. “You don’t have to-”

“Of course I don’t  _ have  _ to.” 

They stand there for a moment in awkward silence. 

Heidi has never liked Cynthia Murphy. Not really. 

Right now, Heidi still kind of hates her. 

And yet…

“Fuck them,” Heidi says after a moment. “Anyone who wants to talk shit about you. Fuck them. Besides, they’ve been talking shit about me for years, it’s not that bad.” 

Cynthia steadies her shoulders. Picks up another platter. 

“I guess we’d better get out there, then,” says Cynthia calmly. 

* * *

The 4th of July Barbecue is… not terribly well attended. And some of the folks who  _ do  _ show up seem to be interested in schadenfreude more than anything else. Connor hears all of the whispers among the guests. They can’t believe Cynthia Murphy’s gall at hosting this event a few weeks after coming home from  _ rehab.  _

Neither can Connor, honestly, but it sucks to hear the people who do show up saying so. His mom seems to be struggling to keep a big happy smile on her face the whole day. It’s so tight and fake that Connor almost feels bad for her. 

This is why he stopped agreeing to joint birthday parties with Zoe. People stopped coming and the ones who  _ did  _ usually had something shitty to say. 

Connor spends most of the party hanging by the pool with Zoe, Evan, Sabrina, and Alana. They swim for a while and then just kind of hang out and eat the ridiculous food the catering people brought with them. 

“There’s kosher options,” Evan observes beside Connor during one of their runs to get more food. 

“Huh,” Connor says, a little surprised. He’s shocked his mom was that thoughtful. 

Zoe drags them all into the pool house after a while and they smoke some weed. Even Evan takes a hit, which surprises Connor, but his probation is pretty much over and because of all of the pain meds he’s on, nobody has bothered with drug testing him. 

They all just hang out, a little bit stoned, and somehow they end up playing a few rounds of increasingly competitive Uno. Evan, it turns out, is a bit of an Uno assassin. He kicks everyone’s ass handedly until Connor threatens to throw him in the pool if he doesn’t knock it off with the well timed +4 cards. He’s kidding of course, and Evan laughs at him and Connor ends up having to pick up four cards anyway. 

Normally this is a huge event that goes on well into the evening, but this year the majority of the guests who  _ do  _ show clear off by sundown. 

Alana goes home with her parents around this time. Sabrina and Zoe escape to the house to “watch a movie,” which makes both Evan and Connor roll their eyes. They’ve done their fair share of “movie watching” this summer too. 

Evan sees Heidi and decides to go back home with her. He asks Connor if he wants to join them - they’re going to the beach house to do a bonfire and light some sparklers. Evan’s never gotten to play with those before. 

“Maybe I’ll come by later?” Connor says. “I just…”

He keeps thinking about his mom’s tight smile and sad eyes. It’s keeping him rooted right here. 

“You don’t  _ have  _ to talk to her,” Evan says reasonably. 

“I know,” Connor says. He kisses Evan. “Go hang out with your mom. I’ll… I’ll text you if I’m gonna come over?”

Evan nods. Kisses him and meets up with Heidi as she’s saying her goodbyes. 

Connor heads inside where his mom is in the kitchen, trying to fit all of the leftover food into the refrigerator. There isn’t enough space. 

Her eyes are glassy and she’s frowning, but Connor can tell she’s sober. 

She looks sad. Disappointed. Connor supposes this is probably one of the first times she’s ever had people not want to come to one of her parties. 

“I don’t… I don’t know what to do with all of this,” she says when Connor steps into the kitchen. 

Connor isn’t even sure she’s talking to him. He takes a cautious step forward, toward her, and starts to help combine some of the containers. 

“I’m sorry more people didn’t come,” he says quietly. 

His mom’s shoulders go stiff. “I guess I’m not sure what I was thinking,” she says quietly. “I… I’ve made a fool of myself in this town. Why did I expect things to just go back to normal?”

Connor hasn’t got an answer for her. 

He just doesn’t have one. 

He just kind of hates that she’s so sad. That sucks. He’s mad at her, absolutely, but he never wants her to be sad. She’s his mom. He doesn’t want her to be sad. 

“Thank you. For being here today.” She gives him a miserable looking smile. “I know you didn’t really want to be.”

Connor shrugs. “It’s okay.”

She gives him a hard, searching look. “How are you? I haven’t… seen much of you since I got back.”

That’s because he’s been avoiding coming home at all costs. He’s still not sure how to be around her. 

“I’m okay,” Connor says. 

“Did you get enough to eat today?” She asks quietly. 

Connor nods stiffly. Evan made sure of that. “The popsicles were a nice touch.”

His mom nods. 

“Connor… sweetheart…”

He braces himself. 

“I am so sorry. For… I wasn’t here for you. These past two years. I was. Cruel. Horrible.”

Connor nods stiffly. 

“I know… I know how much I’ve messed up,” she says. “And I’m going to do whatever it takes to. To make things right with you.”

“Okay.”

“Your dad says Evan is… your boyfriend now?”

Connor nods. 

“Ah. Well. Good. I… I’d like to get to know him better.”

“Not gonna keep trying to get him kicked out of school again then?”

His mom deflates. “I am so sorry about that.”

“I just… why? I don’t get  _ why _ ? What did he do… what did  _ I  _ do that made you hate him so much?”

His mom looks crestfallen. “I… I don’t have an excuse. I guess I… this isn’t the life I imagined for you. When you were small.”

“Well. That’s because you never wanted kids.”

She flinches. “I’m so sorry I said that.”

“Was it the truth?” Connor challenges. 

His mom shrugs. “I… there was a lot of pressure. To do everything  _ perfectly.  _ I felt like. I was constantly failing you and Zoe. And I know… I know the way that I acted is how I actually failed you. But. Please don’t think I never wanted you. I love you both more than I thought I ever could love someone. But I… I got a lot of it wrong.”

Connor nods. 

He doesn’t know what to say to her. He looks over the pans and pans of uneaten food she ordered. All of this effort, wasted on people who didn’t even show up. 

“Maybe you could donate the leftover food?” Connor says. “There’s the soup kitchen and food pantry the school works with? I’m sure they’d be happy for the donation.”

His mom looks surprised. “Yes. That’s a good idea. I’ll just… put it in the garage freezer for the night. Drop it off tomorrow.”

Connor nods. “I’m gonna stay at Heidi’s beach house tonight.”

“Alright sweetheart.”

“But. I’ll go with you. Tomorrow. If you want?”

His mom looks surprised. “Alright. I’d like that.” She smiles a little. “We could… if you wanted, maybe we could go to the bookstore? When we’re done?”

Connor considers. “Sure.”

“I love you,” his mom says. 

“Love you too,” Connor says. He kisses her on the cheek and then heads out the front door. 

Connor doesn’t know what he expected from her. But he figures this is a start. 

* * *

  
Larry hasn’t been seeing a lot of Connor this summer. He’s pretty much always with Evan. Hell, he signed up  _ voluntarily  _ to take a gym class so he could have a reason to drive Evan to school. 

Larry gets it. He gets it. Connor’s got it bad for Evan and he wants to spend every second with him. And it makes sense. Both of them almost died. It makes sense that they’re inseparable, which is why Larry isn’t putting his foot down and demanding his son spend less time sleeping over at its boyfriend’s. 

But. 

Connor almost  _ died  _ a few months ago. It feels just. Wrong and unnerving for his room to sit empty. 

Much like sleeping in the spare room feels wrong and unnerving. But he and Cynthia aren’t quite in a place where sharing a bed is possible. They see a couples’ therapist once a week and Larry’s not even sure if it’s helping. 

In their last session, Cynthia griped about it being “inappropriate” to allow Connor to stay over at Evan’s basically every night. To allow Sabrina to stay over in Zoe’s bedroom. 

And Larry had crossed his arms over his chest and said that maybe, if she felt like parenting, she could  _ start  _ by actually talking to the kids. 

Nightmare. He still felt guilty about it. He was right but also… Cynthia  _ had  _ done the bulk of the parenting work until Connor started high school. She had been the one to watch him closely, to wonder and worry about his behavior, to express concern and argue for therapy, drugs, a nutritionist, even a hypnotherapist. 

And Larry had left her alone with that. 

But she’s broken the kids’ trust and Larry’s too. She’s  _ hit _ Connor. As far as Larry’s concerned, Cynthia hasn’t earned back the right to comment on his decisions. 

But fact is. Larry  _ is  _ uncomfortable with Connor being gone every night. Not because he’s obsessing over whether or not Evan and Connor are sleeping together (maybe they are, maybe they aren’t, but Larry’s done his best to be there for Connor and talk about sex regardless of the awkwardness). But because he. 

Misses his kid.

Worries about him. 

He knows he’s just across the backyard, but he misses being able to poke his head into his room and just make sure he’s breathing. 

Part of Larry is a bit relieved that Connor is thinking of not immediately going away to college next year. At the rate Larry’s going, he’d find himself trying to move into the dorm with him. 

Which he knows Connor would find embarrassing. 

Connor and Larry do have a standing lunch once a week, which he appreciates. Connor is still struggling with his recovery, but Larry can tell he’s trying. He proudly tells his dad that last time he weighed himself he had gained back nine pounds. 

Larry pushes aside his worries about Connor and scales and whether those should be removed from his house and Heidi’s and focuses instead on the fact that Connor seems proud. Seems okay with this development. 

Seems more alive. 

Larry hugs him tightly. Connor hugs him back as fiercely. Doesn’t let go for a long moment. He’s a strong kid. Larry’s relieved that he doesn’t feel like he’s entirely skin and bone in his arms. 

And then somehow it sort of spills out of him. “You know, bud, I miss seeing you at home.”

Connor frowns a little. 

“Not trying to guilt you into not sleeping over at the pool house,” Larry says immediately. “I meant what I said. As long as Evan and Heidi are alright with it, then I am too. It’s good that you’re somewhere that feels safe.”

Connor ducks his head. 

“I just. Miss you is all.”

Connor picks at his nail polish. “I… I miss you too. You and Zo. But… with mom being home? I’m kinda. I don’t know how to be around her.”

Larry nods. That’s a very unsurprising statement. He’d suspected as much. 

“Connor I’m so sorry,” Larry says. “It makes sense that it doesn’t feel. Safe. And that is… it’s not fair to you.”

He shrugs, listless. “How is it? Mom being home now? You two talking?”

Larry frowns a bit. “We’re trying. It’s tough.” He sizes Connor up. “You could come home for dinner sometimes.”

Connor nods. “I know it’s just… it was hard? To uh. Actually eat in front of her? She always had something to say about it.”

Larry swallows uncomfortably. “Connor… I’m sorry.”

“Wasn’t your fault.”

“I could have said or done something sooner,” Larry insists. 

Connor shakes his head. “It’s stupid but. Coming home kind of. Scares me? Like. If I come home, how do I know I’m not gonna walk in to find her slugging vodka and threatening to get rid of me if I told you?”

Larry feels this horrible guilt pooling inside of him. He has no answer because honestly he worries about the same thing. And a lot of him just can’t forgive Cynthia for the things she did and said to their kids when she was drinking. He knows she has a problem but… he can’t bring himself to see past it. 

He wonders if he ever  _ will.  _

He’s got the name of an attorney, some acquaintance who specializes in custody battles and divorce. Sometimes when Larry’s especially frustrated, he pulls the business card out and just. Looks at it. Looks at it for a long time. Debates making a call. 

Debates getting the kids fucking  _ out of here.  _ Moving them to the other side of town, moving into a nice condo or something and leaving Cynthia to the huge house to decide how she wants to fix things. 

But then sometimes she will look at him, from beside him on the sofa in therapy, or across the living room when they are watching something mindless on television, and Larry is struck again by the fact that no matter how angry he is… he still loves her. 

Loves her more than is probably fair. 

Loves her more than she loves him in return, in all likelihood. 

But he remembers and then all thoughts of leaving fly out of his head. Because he loves her and she deserves a chance to make things right. 

But it is her job. And he can’t help her with it. 

* * *

Connor feels a bit weird about asking this. It seems… almost backward or childish or stupid but. 

He feels kind of guilty. 

His dad’s not wrong. He hasn’t slept at home much since Evan got back from the hospital, and he hasn’t been home at all since his mom got back, pretty much. At first he was pretending to but then he’d sneak out and sleep with Evan late at night. And Connor has barely been home since his mom got out of rehab, except to grab fresh clothes and stuff. He gets lunch with his dad and hangs out with Zoe, but he doesn’t do it in the house. 

And well… 

Honestly, Connor does kind of miss his bedroom. He misses waking up at home. He doesn’t always sleep the best in the pool house (okay, that’s an understatement, he sleeps like shit there, though Connor’s  _ not _ going to mention that to Evan. Evan wants him there so he’s there.), and he misses listening to the clock in his room ticking as he tries to fall asleep. He misses his pillows. He misses knowing his dad is down the hall and the familiar sounds the house makes when it’s quiet at night. 

Connor misses home. Which feels weird because he’s just been next door but. He misses it. 

So he’s gonna ask Evan. 

He just. Feels kind of weird about it. 

“Hey,” Connor says as they drive home from summer school that day. “Uh. So. Do you think… do you think maybe sometimes we could sleep at my place?”

Evan looks surprised. “Are your parents not gonna let you stay over anymore?”

Connor shakes his head. “No, it’s not that… just. I haven’t slept at home in like. Almost two full months? And. I dunno. I kind of miss my bed.” He doesn’t really want to get into it much more than that. He’s hoping Evan will just say yes. 

“If you don’t want to stay in the pool house-”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Connor says. “I  _ like _ getting to stay with you. I love it. I love you. And the pool house is great. But… maybe sometimes we could… stay at my place?”

Evan bites his lip. “Uh. Yeah. Okay.”

“We don’t have to…” Connor says, feeling stupid and embarrassed. “It’s dumb, just ignore me, I just… my dad-”

“We can stay at your house sometimes.”

“If you really don’t want to…” Connor says when he parks his car in the garage. “I just. My dad said something about, like, missing me and whatever and it got to my head, we absolutely don’t have to -”

Evan shakes his head. “It’s not that, it’s just…” he gently places his hand on Connor’s cheek. “I hate that you don’t sleep well in the pool house.”

Connor feels his cheeks heat up. “I sleep fine.”

“You don’t,” Evan says softly. “Maybe we could try my bedroom? In the main house? I can manage the stairs now and...”

Connor sighs. “I just… I haven’t been home in two months. I want… to go home. But I can’t just… leave you alone. I won’t. I know you don’t like being alone at night. So...”

Evan nods. There’s some determination in his eyes that Connor doesn’t understand. “Okay. We’ll stay at your house tonight then.”

Connor nods. “You’re sure?”

Evan nods affirmatively. “Yeah.”

Connor texts his dad to clear this plan with him and he responds saying it sounds good. Asks Connor if they’re going to be home for dinner. 

When he asks Evan, Evan says that would be okay. 

“My mom will be there,” Connor says apprehensively. 

Evan shrugs. “Okay.”

Okay. So. If it’s not a big deal then apparently it’s not a big deal. 

They hang in the pool house for a while so Evan can finish up some homework for summer school. Connor talks him through a trig assignment (which is a weird role reversal, but Evan  _ did  _ miss two whole months of school) and then at about 5:30 they head over to Connor’s house. 

His mom and dad are in the kitchen. They’re talking quietly about fuck knows what, and Connor grabs tightly onto Evan’s hand. Evan squeezes back tightly. His palm is sweaty in Connor’s hand. 

“Hey,” he says. 

“Hey bud!” His dad says with this huge smile. “We’re making pizzas for dinner. Does that sound good?”

Connor smiles a little. Nods. Zoe and Sabrina appear in the kitchen doorway a moment later. “You’re actually home?” Zoe says. 

Connor frowns at her. 

“What? You’re like. Never here. I was starting to think you’d like, moved out.”

It’s true but she doesn’t have to  _ say it.  _ Evan looks a bit uncomfortable. 

“Alright. Boys, how do you feel about chopping vegetables?”

Connor looks at Evan. He gives a cautious smile and then Connor’s dad sets them up at the kitchen island with chopping boards and the various veggies that need to be cut up. 

Zoe and Sabrina get working on the dough. It seems to be an excuse for them to leave flour all over each other. 

His mom is watching all of this happen, wearing a very strange expression on her face. “I’ll… I’ll just start grating the cheese then?”

They work pretty efficiently once Zoe and Sabrina quit trying to make out over the pizza dough. Mostly it’s quiet. Zoe chats about her jazz band audition. “I think I’ll get in.”

“You play both acoustic and electric guitar. Nobody is going to think twice about letting you in,” Sabrina says with a big smile. 

“It’s not that different,” Zoe mumbles. She’s full of shit but Connor doesn’t call her out. 

“It is though,” Sabrina says. “You’re really talented and  _ self taught  _ on the electric guitar. Plus you read music and you can play by ear. I think there’s no way you won’t get in.”

Connor agrees. 

Once the pizzas are all assembled, they throw together a salad and Connor’s dad asks how summer school is going for Evan. 

“It’s alright,” Evan says quietly. “W-weird? Playing catch up.”

His mom gives Evan a sympathetic look. “Harbor is a challenging school.”

“Mom,” Zoe says. “He’s only in summer school because he missed, like, two months of school. Evan’s like. Top of the class. Jesus.”

Connor could kiss her. Zoe is the fucking best. His mom looks suitably embarrassed. Evan blushes a little but he looks at Zoe gratefully. 

“Connor did I hear they’re trying to draft you for the baseball team?” Zoe says after a moment. 

Sabrina’s eyes light up. “I’m going to play softball in the spring! We could practice together! I think I’m gonna go out for first base.”

Connor feels his face heat up. “No. I suck, I’m definitely not gonna play baseball.”

“You’re uh. Y-you’re good at. Uh. At batting?” Evan says. He glances sideways at Connor, a small smile playing on his face.

Connor’s dad’s face lights up. “He’s right Connor. You’ve always had a good swing and accuracy.”

Connor shakes his head. “I’m okay. I can’t throw for shit though.” 

“We could play catch some more?” His dad says gently. “If you wanted to go out for the team.”

Connor’s suddenly reminded of his freshman stint on the basketball team. He wasn’t good. Just tall. And height isn’t much help in baseball. And it feels very much like everyone would just love if he played baseball because it’s normal, but Connor just can’t fathom doing it. Locker rooms with all of the jocks? Practices after school? Running, like, all of the time? Not to mention they definitely don’t make uniforms in Godzilla sizes. “I think I’ve had my fill of organized sports,” Connor says vaguely. 

“Oh come on, you know Brian and Chad would be  _ pissed  _ if you showed them up at baseball,” Zoe says. “You only quit basketball because…” 

Zoe trails off. 

Connor quit basketball because he didn’t want to fail a drug test and student athletes are subject to random drug tests. 

“You played basketball?” Evan asks him quietly. 

“Yeah in like. Ninth grade. For like half a season. And I sucked. I was only allowed to start because I’m tall.”

“No,” His dad interjects. “You also had the best foul shot record on the team.”

Connor frowns at him. “Because I was taller than everyone else on the J.V. team.”

“I didn’t know you played basketball,” Evan says softly. 

“I like. Barely played. Okay?”

“Harbor almost won the division freshman year,” Sabrina says. 

“Sports do look good on college applications,” his mom adds softly. 

“No,” Connor says. He’s pissed now. Nobody’s listening to him. “I’m not joining the baseball team, okay? And I’m definitely not going out for basketball again. Can we just drop it?”

Everyone goes quiet. 

Connor sighs. “Look it’s. It’s just for gym class, okay? I don’t want to join the baseball team. The idea of wearing an athletic cup is not appealing.” He’s trying to make a joke but he knows his face is all red and his blood is pounding in his ears and it just sucks that it’s his first night home in however long and everyone is just trying to force him to be normal or whatever. 

Zoe and Sabrina laugh. Evan’s looking at Connor strangely. “It might be fun?” He suggests. 

“A  _ lobotomy  _ would be more fun,” Connor insists. “I’m not gonna do it. Who joins the team as a senior?” Connor shakes his head. “Beside I’m already the editor of the literary magazine next year so…I’ll be busy.”

He hasn’t actually  _ told  _ anybody that. On purpose. He keeps thinking that now that Evan’s back, Mr. Stevens might change his mind. He probably only asked Connor because Connor was one of the juniors at the writer’s workshop in D.C. and Evan was off school. 

“What?” His dad says, his eyes big. Surprised. 

“Mr. Stevens is taking it over,” Connor mutters. “He asked me at the end of the year. It’s not a big deal.”

“That’s amazing, Connor?” Evan says. He’s smiling. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Connor shrugs. He doesn’t even think he’s  _ qualified.  _ He shouldn’t have said yes. Or told people. He’s not even that good at writing. He barely scrapes As in his English class. He sighs. “I’ll probably mess it up. I’m not a good writer.”

“Yes you are,” Evan says. 

“Says the guy who won the  _ essay  _ contest and got published in a  _ real  _ literary magazine.” Connor shrugs again. “It’s not a big deal. He’ll probably realize it was dumb to ask me before school starts back and pick someone else.”

His parents start talking about how part of what they liked about Harbor was the literary magazine and how great it is that Connor’s still writing. 

This was a mistake. He shouldn’t have mentioned it. 

“How do you get in the literary magazine?” Sabrina asks Connor, seeming to notice his discomfort. 

“You just like. Submit stuff. You can also pitch stuff if you want. There’s essays and poems and short stories and stuff.”

“Surprised Alana isn’t on that,” Zoe notes. 

“She and the previous editor clashed on a few things,” Sabrina says. “He kept telling her she was better suited for the newspaper.”

“Alana Beck would make a good journalist,” His mom adds softly. “She’s… got a very. Clear point of view.”

Connor bites the inside of his cheek. “Uh. Yeah. She does.” He shrugs. “I think she’s planning a coup to take over as editor this year. I said if she did, she should let me write album reviews for the arts section.” 

Zoe laughs. “Oh god, it would be like, all emo all the time.”

“Harbor could use a little culture,” Connor returns. “Besides, what could I write about pop music anyway? Flo Rida released an album that sounds exactly like every other album released this year?”

“You are such a snob,” Zoe laughs. 

Dinner isn’t as painful as maybe it could be. Nobody else harrasses Connor about joining an organized sport. His dad asks them both questions about summer school, asks Connor what his plans are for the lit mag, and Sabrina tells them about how she’s joined the field hockey team. Evan asks what exactly field hockey is and Sabrina launches into an enthusiastic explanation. Evan confesses that he had been worried they were all wearing roller skates. 

It’s not bad. It’s just weird. Weird sitting at a table with his mom there, sipping her water and watching them all anxiously. Weird not seeing her downing glasses of wine or watching the clock until she could  _ start _ gulping down glasses of wine. It’s weird having Evan sitting beside him at the table because he’s never come over for dinner before now and it feels unusual and big and strange. 

He’s just not used to it. 

After dinner, Connor’s dad settles on the sofa and asks if anyone wants to watch a movie. Connor looks at Evan, and they agree. His dad puts on that super campy movie,  _ The Mummy,  _ the one with Brendan Fraser, and the three of them watch it together, commenting the whole way through about the stupid looking special effects and the silliness of the plot. Connor keeps catching his dad giving him these secretive smiles every few minutes. Like he’s just… happy to see him. 

It’s weird. The idea that his dad is happy to see him. It’s… always a bit weird. 

“So,” His dad says when Evan gets up to pee during a commercial. “Editor of the literary magazine, huh?”

Connor feels his cheeks get warm. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Sure it is.”

Connor shrugs. “Look, I know you need like. Extracurriculars for college and whatever, and I haven’t really done anything since I was on the yearbook committee at Hanover… I just. It’s whatever. He probably shouldn’t have given it to me. I’ll probably mess it up.”

“I don’t think so.”

Connor shrugs. “Evan’s a better writer.”

His dad looks at him oddly. 

“He won that statewide essay contest. It should be him.”

His dad looks really fucking sad suddenly. “Connor. This is something you’re good at-”

“I… It should be him,” Connor repeats stubbornly. “I just. Get stuff handed to me. I shouldn’t, I already have like. Everything I need. It should be Evan. I don’t deserve it.”

His dad frowns at Connor. “You deserve to be happy. I think this might make you happy.”

Connor doesn’t know about that either. But he keeps his mouth shut. 

* * *

Evan hasn’t really spent much time in Connor’s room in the time they’ve known each other. Most of the time they hang out at the beach house, or at Evan’s. So it’s a little weird to be in Connor’s room after months. A little weird that it hasn’t changed. 

But they have. 

Their relationship has. 

Evan’s still genuinely shocked that Mr. Murphy…

That  _ Larry  _ is letting them spend every night together. 

He thinks he’s okay with calling him Larry now. It still feels weird, a little, but after everything, Evan genuinely trusts the guy. Trusts that he’s got Connor’s best interests at heart, trusts that he cares and wants to help. 

Larry spent hours and hours in the hospital with both Evan and Connor. Evan has vague memories of talking to Larry, high out of his mind on painkillers, and Larry holding his hand and telling him he was going to be okay. 

That’s…

It’s strange, feeling like he trusts an adult that’s not Heidi. 

But Larry Murphy has proved himself. When it all went to hell, he’s proved that he doesn’t want to hurt Evan. That he won’t turn a blind eye when Evan suffers. That he  _ cares.  _

And Evan loves that Connor is close with his dad. Loves that he wants to spend time with him. Loves how happy Larry had seemed to have Connor home. 

Fuck. Evan’s been selfish. He should have realized. 

Connor looks a little nervous, almost, standing in his room looking at Evan. He smiles. “How are you feeling?” he asks, sounding concerned and genuine. “Do you need to sleep?”

Evan nods. He’s exhausted, which is stupid because he hasn’t really done much. Connor smiles at him, then takes a step toward him and wraps his arms around Evan’s waist. Kisses him gently. 

“You sure you’re okay here?” Connor asks again. “You sure it’s okay that we’re sleeping here tonight?”

“It’s fine,” Evan says, trying to sound as encouraging as possible. “I know you haven’t been sleeping well. It’ll be good for you to rest properly.” 

Connor looks… vaguely annoyed. Not full-on annoyed, just kind of… mildly annoyed. Like he doesn’t want Evan pointing out that he hasn’t been sleeping. But then he smiles and nods, a little sheepishly, and kisses Evan again. 

They go through the routine of getting ready for bed. Get into pajamas. Brush their teeth together in the bathroom Zoe and Connor share. It’s kind of nice, being able to do this together. They both take their meds and Evan takes some Tylenol because his head hurts a little and then spends like five minutes assuring Connor he’s fine, it’s just a headache, it’s nowhere near as bad as the ones he had immediately post surgery. 

Then they get into Connor’s bed and curl up against each other in the way they’ve gotten used to doing. It’s familiar and strange at the same time.

Connor’s got a clock in his room that ticks pretty loudly. 

It’s good to have something to focus on, Evan thinks. That way he doesn’t have to lie there in silence and just… wait for something to go wrong. 

That’s not fair, he realizes. It’s not fair for him to be freaking out about being here after Connor spent two fucking months in the pool house for Evan. 

It’s just…

Connor overdosed in this room. 

Evan spent months scared about what Connor’s mom would do to him in this house. Scared that she’d hit him again or say something else devastating. 

She told Connor that she didn’t want kids. 

Fucking hell, that’s…

Cruel. It’s cruel to say it. 

Evan thinks it would have been understandable if his mom hadn’t wanted kids. She’d had him at seventeen, after all. Her life would probably be better if she hadn’t him. 

She’d probably still be alive if she hadn’t had him. 

Probably would have made something of her life. She was in the Honor Society at school, she probably had a bright future ahead of her. 

And then she got pregnant and had a baby at seventeen. 

It would make sense if his mom had said she didn’t want kids. 

But Connor’s mom saying it? That’s cruel. 

That’s just… cruel. 

Evan hates that Connor thinks his mom doesn’t love him. Hates it so much. Hates that he can’t be sure that she does, that he doesn’t have any real frame of reference on Mrs. Murphy except that she’s horrible and spiteful and mean and drunk all the time. 

But he knows that being drunk all the time can be what makes you horrible and spiteful and mean. 

There’s this horrible cold feeling in his chest as Evan realizes that if Mark had been sober, he probably wouldn’t have hurt Evan quite as badly as he did. 

Probably wouldn’t have risen to the bait. 

Or at least pulled his punches a little. 

Not for the first time, Evan feels this pang of guilt in his chest. His dad’s a piece of shit, sure, but Evan’s the one who deliberately provoked him. And it landed him in jail. 

Mark’s been in jail before, but never for long. Always for dumb shit. Public intoxication was a big one. He broke a police officer’s nose once. 

Mrs. Murphy barely spent any time in jail when she hit the security guard at cotillion. Guess things are different when you’re rich and married to a lawyer. 

What if she hits Connor again? 

What if she hasn’t stopped drinking, she’s just hiding it better? 

Evan’s still not as strong as he was. Still isn’t back to where he needs to be. 

Can he keep Connor safe here? 

At least at the pool house, the door was always locked. Only Rosa and Heidi could get in. They were safe there. 

But here? There’s no lock on Connor’s door. 

Evan gets why. Appreciates it, even. If the door had been locked when Connor took those pills…

“You’re shaking,” Connor says gently. “What’s going on?”

“Just kinda cold,” Evan lies. He sits up. Looks around for a sweater and realizes that he hasn’t brought one with him. “I, uh, I might run home and grab a sweater?” 

“Borrow one of mine,” says Connor sleepily, yawning. 

“I’ll stretch it out,” Evan points out. He swings his legs around and stands up. “I’ll just get one from the pool house, it’s just across the yard. It won’t take long.” 

“I’ll come with you,” Connor says instantly. He sits up, and Evan looks at him. Sees how he’s already blinking heavily, like he’s on the edge of sleep, and it’s not something Evan’s seen happen this quickly. 

Being home is obviously making a difference. 

“I’m fine,” Evan tells him gently. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

Connor is blinking heavily. Shakes his head like he’s trying to wake himself up. “No, I’ll come with you-”

“Connor,” Evan says gently, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Lie back down, okay? You look exhausted. I’m coming back, I swear, I won’t be long.” He smiles at him. “Remember how I live next door?”

Connor keeps blinking. He lets out a sigh, then lays back, his eyes closing. “You promise?”

“I promise,” Evan says immediately. “I’ll be back before you know it.” 

Connor lets out a noise of agreement that doesn’t sound quite awake and curls up into a ball. Evan just looks at him for a moment. He looks so much more peaceful than Evan’s seen him. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, he’s so selfish, what the fuck is wrong with him? Why has he been making him stay in the pool house with him? 

Evan heads out of the room quietly, closing the door behind him. He heads down the stairs and is about to head to the door when he hears a voice. 

“Everything okay?” 

Evan turns to see Mrs. Murphy at the top of the stairs, frowning at him. She’s wearing a robe and slippers and is looking at him assessingly, like she’s trying to figure out what he’s doing. 

Evan feels his shoulders tense. “I’m j-just going home to grab a sw-sweater,” he manages to say. “I c-can’t fit in Connor’s without st-stretching them out.” 

Mrs. Murphy blinks. “I think I have something that’ll work for you,” she says immediately. “I bought a sweater for Connor last year that was just far too big, it should fit you. It’s in my craft room. I meant to donate it but… I didn’t get around to it.”

She comes down the stairs, and Evan tries to keep his breathing even. Tries not to let it show that for some stupid reason, he’s a little bit afraid of Cynthia Murphy. 

Which is ridiculous. He could definitely take her. 

… who is he kidding, there’s no way he’d punch Connor’s  _ mom _ . Not to defend  _ himself _ , at least. If she tried to hurt Connor again, then all bets are off. 

Mrs. Murphy gestures for him to follow her to one of the spare rooms downstairs which, it turns out, is full of craft equipment and sports equipment and piles and piles of clothing. It doesn’t take her long to locate a soft looking sweater in a cheerful red color that would have looked completely ridiculous on Connor. 

She hands it to him and he puts it on. It fits perfectly, and he likes red. 

She nods approvingly at the sight of him. “Looks good on you,” she says. “It’s a good color for you.” 

“Thank you,” Evan says awkwardly. He turns to go. “I’ll just-”

“How is he, really?”

Evan looks at Mrs. Murphy. Her face is pale and tense, and everything in the way she’s standing tells him that she’s worried. There’s so much fear in how she holds herself, Evan realizes, but it’s not like she’s standing all that differently to how she usually does. 

Maybe she’s always afraid and Evan just didn’t notice. 

“He’s okay,” Evan says carefully. “He’s eating more. I think it’s all the exercise with baseball.” He tries to smile. “Means he’s actually hungry, which is… really good, I think.”

Mrs. Murphy smiles, and it seems genuine. “He cleared his plate at dinner,” she says, this hint of relief in her voice. She swallows audibly. “I don’t… I don’t really understand. Why he…” 

She trails off. Doesn’t finish her thought. 

“I don’t either,” Evan says honestly. “I don’t understand what he’s going through. But I don’t have to understand to… to care. To want to help.” 

Mrs. Murphy looks at him, something sharp and assessing in her expression. Like she’s trying to scan him, somehow. She looks at him for a long time. 

“We didn’t get off to a good start,” she says evenly. “But I want you to know you’re always welcome in this house.” She swallows again. “I said some awful things about you and I am so sorry. I understand if you don’t like me but... you’re important to my son. To my daughter. And my husband. So I’ll… do my best to make you feel at home here. From now on.” 

“Okay,” Evan says, not knowing how else to respond here. “Thank you. For apologizing.” 

Mrs. Murphy gives this kind of awkward smile. “When I was growing up, adults never apologized to me,” she says, something hesitant in her voice. “My parents certainly never did, and looking back there were plenty of times where they should have.” 

“Parents are just human beings,” Evan finds himself saying. “They mess up just like everyone else.” 

Mrs. Murphy’s face falls a little. She looks… genuinely distressed. “Well,” she says after a moment. “I’ve got the messing up part covered.” 

Evan thinks about his mom. How scared she seemed all the time. Young and scared and sad and trying her best, working as hard as she could to keep their heads above water, keep him clothed and fed, keep a roof over their heads. 

She didn’t have anywhere near the resources and comforts that Mrs. Murphy has. Part of him is still just… furious that Mrs. Murphy who has everything could be so awful to her own kids. 

Another part of him remembers what Connor said at the beach when Zoe was coming to school high. How he’d made some comment about her being a hot blonde from Orange County and how Connor had called him on it. 

_ “You don’t get to feel bad for me and talk about her like that, okay? You don’t get to dismiss what she’s going through. We’re not that different.” _

Evan doesn’t know if that extends to Mrs. Murphy. 

Connor probably thinks it does, but Evan doesn’t know if he agrees. 

Still. 

He can try. 

For Connor, he can try. 

When he gets back to Connor’s room and climbs into bed, Connor is sitting up in bed, clearly fighting against sleep. He tilts his head a little and looks at Evan’s shirt. 

“Is that new?”

Evan shakes his head. Clears his throat. “It’s, uh,” he begins awkwardly. “Your mom gave it to me? She said she bought it for you and it didn’t fit.”

Connor’s eyes widen. “You talked to my mom?”

“A little,” Evan admits. “It was fine.” He thinks for a moment, then continues. “She apologized. For what she’s said about me.”

Connor’s quiet for a moment. He looks at Evan intently. “You don’t have to forgive her. Or talk to her or like her on anything.”

“She’s your mom,” Evan says quietly. “And you’re my boyfriend, the person I love. She’s an important part of your life, and I want to be a part of your life, too, so. As long as she doesn’t hurt you, it doesn’t matter what she said about me.”

Connor’s face twists unhappily. “It does matter. She shouldn’t have said that. Shouldn’t have tried to get you kicked out of school. Shouldn’t have-”

“Parents are just people,” Evan interrupts calmly. “And they make mistakes.”

Connor just looks at him for a long moment. Blinks a few times. Finally, he nods. 

“Come on,” Evan says, moving down under the covers. “Let’s sleep, okay?”

Connor nods, and lays down. Reaches out and pulls Evan close to him. Evan buries his head in Connor’s neck and listens to his pulse. 

Listens to the clock in his room. 

They both keep a steady beat and Evan closes his eyes. 

It takes a while, but he’s finally able to sleep. 

* * *

  
Connor sleeps hard that night. Like. He’s completely out. Doesn’t wake up once in the middle of the night with the intense need to make sure Evan’s still there, still breathing. 

It’s a relief honestly. 

He’s been…. exhausted lately. Even with the gym class wearing him out, he hasn’t had a proper full night’s sleep in a while. 

He feels a lot better when he wakes up. 

A lot better. 

Huh. 

Evan’s up when Connor opens his eyes, still laying in bed next to him, but his eyes are open. 

“Did you sleep okay?”

Evan nods. “Yeah. T-took a bit to fall asleep but. Yeah.”

Connor smiles at him. “Good. How’s your head?”

“Haven’t had any c-complaints,” Evan returns. Connor regrets having ever taught him that joke. He shakes his head and kisses Evan’s cheek. 

“Dork. I meant-”

“I know,” Evan says. “I feel okay. Might take a Tylenol before school though.”

Connor nods. “We could go through Starbucks?”

“You’ve got three hours of gym,” Evan says reasonably. 

“So I’ll get something without dairy,” Connor says. “You wanna shower?”

Evan looks at him. “Oh. Yeah I was… I was gonna go h-home to…?”

Connor nods. “Sure. Yeah.” He bites his lip. “If this is too weird for you, we don’t have to stay here again.”

Evan gives him a strange, searching look. “You like being here,” he says softly. “You’ve missed it.”

Connor opens his mouth to tell him that he’s fine. That it doesn’t matter that he’s just been next door. 

But he knows it’s obvious. Obvious from the way he slept and the fact that he doesn’t feel like he’s a guest here. At the pool house… well it’s Evan’s place. Evan and Heidi’s. Connor might have a key but he knows it’s not his. 

And this room… it’s his. It’s his space. It’s safe. It’s home. And Evan… Evan feels like home a lot of the time. But it’s different. Different than being here. Connor hasn’t always felt at home here, but this is  _ his  _ space. 

Evan kisses Connor quickly and then heads out. Connor tells him he’ll pick him up in like twenty minutes. He heads off to shower (which he knows is weird because he’s going to get all sweaty in gym class, but his hair is a  _ mess  _ right now). Ten minutes later he’s pulling his hair into a bun and heading down the stairs. He’s surprised that his mom is sitting there at the kitchen island. 

“Oh. Uh. Hi?”

“Good morning,” she says softly. “Did you want some coffee? Something for breakfast?”

Connor shakes his head. “We’re gonna go through Starbucks on the way to school.”

His mom frowns a little. “Please make sure you get something to eat?”

Connor feels like she’s not allowed to say shit like that. But. Whatever. She’s his mom. He guesses she’s kind of allowed. “Yeah I will.”

She smiles a little tiredly. “Did you sleep okay?” 

Connor nods. “I did. Thanks uh. For giving Evan the sweater? That was nice of you.”

She nods. “Of course.” She eyes his outfit. “You could use some new clothes.”

Connor feels himself tense up. “I’m good thanks.”

His mom’s face falls. “I didn’t mean… I meant. I could give you some money. If you wanted to go shopping.” 

“Oh,” Connor says. “Yeah. Maybe. I dunno.” He kind of laughs awkwardly. Because he’s wildly uncomfortable. “I don’t know where to even buy pants?”

His mom blinks like she’s surprised. “You don’t?”

Connor shakes his head. “No. I’m like. They’re all… short? My legs are...” He shrugs. “How do you figure out what size pants you wear?” 

His mom nods. “Uh. There’s usually measurements, for men’s pants? A length and a waistband.”

Connor nods. “Okay.” His face feels warm. He probably knew that. He was just thrown by the question. “Thanks. I gotta… school.”

“Make sure you drink a lot of water if you’re outside,” his mom says, wringing her hands. “It’s supposed to be really warm today.”

Connor nods. “I will. Bye.”

“Bye sweetheart. Have a good day.”

Connor heads out the door and gets in his car. Drives over to Heidi’s and waits for Evan, who yawns as he climbs in. 

“We can sleep in the pool house tonight,” Connor says immediately. 

“Okay,” Evan says. 

“I know that was weird.”

“It was fine.”

“My mom…”

Evan looks at him sharply. 

“I dunno. She’s being weird.”

They drive through Starbucks and both get cinnamon rolls. When Evan’s eating his, he looks at Connor and says, his voice quiet, “How come you didn’t tell me about the literary magazine?”

Connor sighs. “Because Mr. Stevens asked me during the last week of school…?”

The last week of the semester, Evan had a couple of awful migraines. Connor had been so worried he nearly cut class on the last day. 

“Oh.”

“And it shouldn’t be me,” Connor goes on. 

Evan blinks at him in surprise. “But you’re the best writer in our whole class.”

“No,” Connor says emphatically. “You are. It should be you.”

Evan looks surprised. “What? No.”

“Yes. You’re like… you’ve had an essay, like, published. You’re better. It should be you.”

Evan shakes his head. “You’re better at creative-”

“Don’t okay? It should be you. Mr. Stevens is gonna change his mind and I’ll have embarrassed myself getting all, like, excited and telling people. So.”

Evan shakes his head again. “No. No way. This is your thing. I’m not gonna take it. Even if he asked… I wouldn’t. It’s yours. You’re good at it.”

Connor frowns. “Please don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Lie to me.” 

* * *

Evan feels this flash of irritation. Frustration. 

“I’m not lying,” he insists. “The literary magazine is way more your thing than mine. I’m not as good a creative writer as you are.”

Connor is still frowning. His expression doesn’t change. “Bullshit. You’re a fucking published writer. You get better grades at English than me, you-”

“Connor,” Evan interrupts, trying to keep his voice even. To not yell. “The literary magazine? I wouldn’t have a clue where to start. You’re the obvious choice for this.”

Connor rolls his eyes. “Come on, you-”

“Essays I’m good at,” Evan interrupts again. “But poems? Short stories? I’m okay, but I’m nowhere near as good as you. And you’ve got good taste, too. You’re better at finding stuff than me. And you’re better at giving feedback that’s not, like… clinical.”

Something in Connor's expression shifts a little. “Your feedback is fine.”

Evan raises his eyebrows at him. “Remember how Mr. Stevens made us review poems from other people in the class anonymously in March?”

“Yeah…”

“Melissa Edmonds cried,” Evan tells him. “When she read my comments on her poem. She wasn’t even supposed to know I wrote the review but she found out somehow and told me I was an insensitive jackass.” 

Connor looks confused. And a little annoyed. “You’re way nicer than me,” he says flatly. “If you made her cry then I’ll probably make her, like, stab me or something.”

“You won’t,” Evan says immediately. “Because you read her poem too. She told me that your feedback was much more useful.” He winces. “And didn’t use the words ‘trite’ and ‘melodramatic’.”

Connor’s eyes go wide. “Yikes.” Then he looks thoughtful. “Hang on, was that the one about the broken mirror?”

“Yep.”

Connor nods. “I mean, I can see what you mean. But she used some really evocative similes, and I think that if she just cut some of the excess prose and simplified it a little, there’s something there.”

Evan looks at Connor pointedly. “And that’s why you should be doing this. Not me, not anyone else. You. You’re good at seeing the potential in something. Not just writing it off as hopeless.”

Connor looks… a little surprised. 

A lot like he’s been caught out. 

His cheeks go a little pink. 

“Yeah, well,” he mutters. “Plenty of people have written me off as hopeless. I know what it feels like.”

“Me too,” Evan says gently. He reaches out and takes Connor’s hand. “You’re good at this, okay? You’re going to do an amazing job. Mr. Stevens isn’t stupid. He made the right call.”

Connor looks like he wants to argue. 

“Do you actually think that?” he asks after a moment, his voice small.

“Yeah,” Evan says immediately. “I do.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "Nobody Puts Baby In The Corner" by Fall Out Boy.


	60. Fix Me in Forty-Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of summer brings healing, acceptance and a visit to the Grand Canyon.

Zoe’s dad approaches the topic every couple of weeks. Zoe suspects he’s noticed that she hasn’t really been sleeping since Sabrina left for India. 

Being alone so much has given Zoe a lot of time to think. And that’s. 

Not so great sometimes. 

Because when she’s alone and her brain is unoccupied, things creep up on her. 

Like she went to Starbucks by herself last week and this dude was standing too close to her in line and she could like. Smell his cologne. And suddenly she was running off to the bathroom, her order abandoned in the middle of making it because she was _convinced_ he was going to hurt her. 

Or the fact that Sabrina demanded they take lots of pictures of what they got up to while she was away means that Alana Beck has a camera out a lot when they hang out. And the flash makes Zoe flinch and remember Jared’s fingers pushed inside her body and… 

Zoe keeps thinking about it. 

About Jared. 

About Connor going after him and beating the shit out of him even though Zoe told him not to get involved… 

Zoe has this nightmare scenario in her brain where Jared finds her, his face ugly and bloodied, in a public space and tells everyone all the things she did so he’d keep selling her drugs. 

And then that makes her miss the sort of empty blankness _of_ drugs and she knows that’s fucked up so she keeps trying to keep herself busy by doing random shit and. 

She can’t really sleep. 

And her dad _knows._

“I think maybe you should give therapy another try,” Her dad says to her softly one morning when she’s awake and clutching a cup of coffee after another sleepless night. 

“That last lady I saw was all… into healing crystals and shit,” Zoe mutters. “No thanks.”

“One more shot. Huh? I found somebody else I want you to try. She was suggested to me by Connor’s therapist.”

Zoe sighs. She knows Connor likes his new shrink. 

“If this one sucks, will you get off my back about it?”

Her dad agrees. 

The building is just an average run of the mill office building. She could be going to the dentist. Whatever. 

Zoe goes to the waiting room. There’s no receptionist or anything. There’s a radio playing. Zoe knows the song playing and it feels stupidly inappropriate considering what she’s here for. She kind of wants to switch off this fucking stupid Gwen Stefani song. 

A young woman with long dyed hair pops her head out of an office. “Zoe?”

Zoe nods. 

“I’m Chelsea. Want to come on back?”

She follows the woman into the office. Zoe’s surprised. The room is… huge. Big windows letting in lots of light. And full of musical instruments. 

Zoe has a seat and fills out some paperwork. Then looks up at Chelsea. 

Trying to figure out what the fuck is going on. 

“So. Why don’t you tell me what brings you here?”

Zoe shrugs. “My dad thinks I need therapy.”

Chelsea nods. “I spoke with him a few times. It sounds like you’ve had a pretty tough year.”

Zoe shrugs again. “I guess.”

She wants to know what her dad told this woman. Zoe wants to know what shit this lady thinks about her. 

“Your dad says you’re a musician,” Chelsea says with a smile. “I thought today we might just. Get to know each other and maybe you could play a bit?”

Zoe blinks. “What?”

Chelsea smiles. “Well. I specialize in music therapy. Most of my techniques involve listening to or making music. But I don’t want to just like. Ask you to try something right away. You don’t know me. So. You play guitar right? Want to play me something? We can just chat a bit and you can play. If it feels more comfortable, I can play too. Whatever feels safe.”

Zoe blinks in surprise. “You’re serious?”

“All this shit isn’t just for show,” Chelsea says. Zoe grins. Easiest way to win over a teenager is to swear in front of them. “Go grab something.”

So Zoe does. She takes an acoustic guitar. Sits back down, her legs folded like a pretzel, and she tunes it for a bit before looking up at Chelsea. “What am I supposed to play?”

Chelsea looks thoughtful. “How about something that makes you feel comfortable. Safe.”

Zoe nods. 

Thinks for a bit. 

And starts playing some Beatles. She’s not sure why, but it’s some of the first stuff she learned. Sabrina heard her play “Eight Days A Week” right before they started hooking up. 

So Zoe plays. Feels herself start to relax. 

“Wow,” Chelsea says. “Did you take lessons?”

Zoe nods. “I stopped for a while,” she explains. “So I’m kinda rusty.”

“Didn’t sound too rusty to me.”

Zoe shrugs. “I’m trying out for jazz band when school starts up again,” she says. “So I’ve been practicing a bit.”

“How do you practice?”

Zoe strums idly. “I dunno. Lots of ways. I read music or… sometimes I just listen to stuff and try to figure it out.”

“So you can play by ear?”

Zoe nods. Starts to try out the intro to some song Connor played her the other day. She liked it but can’t remember who sings it. Probably some emo band. She just remembers this bit that goes “we’ll make them so jealous we’ll make them hate us,” and she liked that. She plays what she remembers, humming when the words escape her. She likes that the song is acoustic but not like. Soft. 

It’s kinda aggressive really. 

“My dad is freaked out that I’m gonna start doing drugs again,” Zoe offers suddenly. 

Chelsea nods. “Okay.”

“I’m not gonna,” Zoe says. She fucks up the fingering at one part and starts over. “But like. My brother’s an addict. My mom was in rehab because she’s an alcoholic.”

“So there’s history in your family.”

“Yeah and also I was coked out or on oxy for most of this year,” Zoe says. 

Chelsea nods. “Do you want to say more?”

“I know it sounds stupid but… everyone else was doing it,” Zoe says. “But like. All my friends were on drugs. And I just. Wanted to be normal.” She tries to remember the outro the song, the rhythmic ending. “I’m not. Normal.”

“How’s that?”

“I have a girlfriend,” Zoe says. 

“Is that all?”

“Well I don’t know that most kids start doing a ton of blow and pills because they don’t know how to deal with being gay or whatever.” Zoe shrugs. “And… I dunno. Some shit happened with a guy I knew and… it made me feel like a freak.” 

Chelsea nods but doesn’t say anything. 

“So I just. Got high a lot more.”

“Can I ask what happened with the guy?” 

Zoe stops playing. 

“You don’t have to say if you’re not ready.”

Zoe nods. Turns her attention back to the guitar. _“We’ll make them so jealous, we’ll make them so jealous.”_

“We slept together,” Zoe says finally. “And. It was really bad. I didn’t like it. And…” she fucks up the rhythm. Can’t remember the next part. “My girlfriend says he raped me.”

“You think differently?”

Zoe shrugs. “It was my idea. I just. Chickened out after we got started because it hurt. And like. I said stop and he didn’t. It’s not like… I mean. I kept sleeping with him. He was my dealer. The worst part was the pictures he took. But. It was my fault.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I was stupid. And high. And I kept going back even though I knew what would happen.”

Chelsea frowns a little. “But you didn’t want it to happen?”

“No,” Zoe says. “But like. That doesn’t like. Matter. I started it.”

“I think it matters.”

Zoe stops playing. “Why?”

“Because nobody deserves to have their wishes disrespected.”

Zoe shrugs. 

“I mean. Let’s say you order a pizza. You ask for… pepperoni and green peppers.”

“Sure.”

“And the delivery guy brings a pizza and you realize you don’t want pizza anymore. You’d rather have Chinese. 

Zoe’s not following. 

“But the delivery guy says you _have_ to eat the pizza. Won’t leave until you do. And you have a stomachache after eating it. So… tell me. Is it your fault? For ordering a pizza?” Chelsea asks. “Or is it on the guy who made you eat it?”

Zoe frowns. “What delivery guy is gonna _make_ you eat pizza?”

Chelsea gives Zoe a sad smile. “What guy hears you say you don’t want to have sex anymore and doesn’t stop?”

Zoe blinks. To her horror her eyes have flooded with tears. “But…”

“I’m saying it wasn’t your fault. Even if you started it. Even if you slept with him again. It wasn’t your fault.”

Zoe feels this tight ball of shame and hurt that’s been holding her together shift. Not disintegrate or disappear but. Dislodge. 

“And I’m sorry that your girlfriend named the experience for you,” Chelsea says. “I’m sure her intention was to help… but this is something that happened to you. Only you get to decide what to call it.”

Zoe swallows. “So I don’t have to say… that I was….”

“No. You don’t.” Chelsea smiles sadly. “Some people find that claiming the word rape makes them feel empowered or strong. But for some people that word does not work for them.”

Zoe nods. Swallows. “Just. A lot of people. When they found out. They just… did stuff without asking me.” 

“Like what?”

“Like. Sabrina saying it was rape or… or my brother beating the shit out of the guy… beating the shit out of Jared.” Zoe blinks a few times. “I never got to… figure out what I wanted.”

“Well,” Chelsea says. “I know that some of the things that happened can’t be undone. But. Maybe we can work together to figure out what you want now.”

Zoe swallows hard. “Okay.” 

She keeps playing. Plays bits of songs she’s learning. Bits of songs she likes. 

“Is that ‘Teenage Dirtbag?’” Chelsea asks. 

Zoe smiles. “Yeah. I uh. That’s how I asked my girlfriend to prom. I played this a lunch and changed the words to the last part…”

Chelsea grins. “That’s really brave.”

Zoe shrugs. “I mean. I felt like. I had to like. Prove I wasn’t a homophobic asshole,” Zoe explains. “Before we told people about us… I called her some awful names in front of people. I was shitty to her.”

“Why did you feel like you had to do that?”

“I didn’t want to be gay,” Zoe says. “And I definitely didn’t want people thinking that I was.”

“Why is that?”

Zoe bites her lip. “My brother’s gay. It hasn’t been easy for him. People make fun of him and… my mom. Doesn’t like it.”

Chelsea frowns. “That sounds really hard.”

Zoe shrugs. “It’s whatever. It’s not like my friend Evan. His dad found out he liked boys and almost killed him. He was in the hospital. I actually drove him to the emergency room. He had to have brain surgery.”

“That must have been hard to see.”

“It wasn’t my thing.” Zoe shrugs again. Plays a little more. “I have it pretty easy. I know that.”

“Do you?”

Zoe sighs. “Nobody has tried to kill me.”

“That doesn’t mean things have been easy.”

Zoe blinks a few times. “I just feel like I don’t get to complain,” she says. “Everyone around me has had it worse. Some of them had it worse _because_ of me.”

Chelsea nods and smiles sympathetically. “Do want to keep making things harder for other people? For yourself?”

Zoe shakes her head. 

“Then we can work on that together.”

* * *

Connor likes waking up next to Evan. 

He likes it _a lot._

There’s also something about waking up next to him in his own bed. 

Connor doesn’t want to think about the absolutely mortifying conversation with his dad about sex, but Larry did have a point about being somewhere safe. And being home... it feels a bit safer than the pool house. 

His dad hasn’t yet made good on his promise to get Connor a lock on his door (mostly because he and Evan only very recently started to stay here sometimes) but during the week his mom usually stays out of his way and his dad is at work so. It hasn’t been such an issue. 

Connor sneaks off to the bathroom to pee and brush his teeth. When he comes back and softly shuts the door, Evan’s sitting up in bed. He’s got adorable bed head and he’s looking at Connor with this very (very very) focused expression. 

“What’s up?” Connor says, his throat a bit dry. 

“Come here?” Evan says, his voice kind of low and rough and Connor’s knees go a bit weak. 

He practically dives back into bed and on top of Evan and they’re immediately making out. Connor shivers when Evan kisses his neck and Evan basically yanks him under the covers. Connor laughs breathlessly and they’re both kicking off their pajama pants and reaching for each other. 

Connor sighs when Evan touches him and he touches Evan back. Evan’s eyes close tightly and he kisses Connor helplessly. “You’re so… so good at that,” Evan says and Connor can’t make words happen because Evan is also very good at what he’s doing and they keep kissing and their hands keep moving and Evan is getting close, Connor can tell, because he keeps biting his lips and squeezing his eyes shut and Connor loves it when he gets Evan there first -

“Hey guys!”

Zoe has basically kicked the door open. Connor and Evan practically jump apart and Connor’s heart is pounding so fast in his chest he worries he’s about to have a heart attack. 

“Don’t you ever _knock_?” Connor snaps. 

Zoe shrugs cheerfully and has a seat on Connor’s desk chair. “What are we doing today?”

“We _were_ sleeping,” Connor mutters. 

Evan’s face is bright red and he looks like he’s trying to evaporate into the air. 

“Do you wanna go to the mall?” Zoe says, clearly not bothered that they clearly don’t want her there. 

“I dunno it’s like. Nine o’clock. Mall’s not even open,” Connor complains. 

Zoe shrugs. “It’s been super boring without Sabrina,” she says. 

Connor bites back a comment about how she should just go masturbate like a _normal teenager_ but he feels like Evan would kill him if he suggested it. Instead he flops back into his pillows. 

“I g-g-guess the m-mall wouldn’t b-b-be bad?” Evan says. 

“That’s the response I’m looking for!” Zoe says happily. “Get dressed. I’ll buy Starbucks on the way.”

“I need to shower and… whatever,” Connor says. 

Zoe rolls her eyes. “Washing your hair too much is actually super bad for it.”

Connor rolls his eyes. “Zo. Dude. Can you like… give us a little bit to wake up?”

Zoe’s eyes go wide. “Ohmygod am I _interrupting?_ ”

Evan’s face is so red Connor’s starting to worry he’s going to have an aneurysm. 

Connor throws a pillow at his sister. “Interrupting us _sleeping_ maybe. Go. We’ll get ready.”

Zoe starts laughing. “Oh my god you guys are gross. Mom is _home._ ”

“Zo get the fuck out!” Connor says, his face super hot. She keeps laughing and heads out the door still giggling. 

Evan lets out a breath. “Fuck,” he says in this slightly too high voice.

“I’m so sorry,” Connor rushes out. 

“I just… _fuck._ ”

“She didn’t see anything,” Connor says quickly. 

“I know but… _fuck._ ”

Connor bites the inside of his cheek. “I walked in on my parents when I was twelve,” he blurts. 

“ _What_?” Evan says, his voice still too high. 

“I was sick, I went in to see if they had any cough medicine and they were like….”

“Oh my god _Connor_ please stop talking.”

“I just mean. She didn’t _see_ anything.”

“Jesus.”

“It’s okay,” Connor says softly. “Even if she had, she’s not gonna say anything.”

Evan covers his face with his hands. “She… she almost saw us…”

“She’s just bored since Sabrina left for India, she clearly didn’t actually see anything, it’s okay. She just. Wants to go to the mall or whatever.”

Evan nods a few times, his face still bright red. “You gotta… you gotta make her knock.”

Connor bites his lip. “My dad did say he’d get a lock for my door so… I can talk to him about that?”

* * *

“Please,” Evan says immediately. He can feel how hot his face is. “I, uh…” He looks at the blanket, not really able to look Connor in the face right now. “I, uh… I don’t…”

“Don’t like the idea of someone walking in on us?” Connor fills in when Evan can’t finish his sentence. 

“Yeah,” Evan says, letting out a shaky breath. He feels a little bit like he’s going to have a panic attack or start fucking hyperventilating, which is so fucking stupid. She didn’t see anything. It wasn’t, like, super obvious or anything, it’s just…

“So, uh, it kinda w-weirds me out?” Evan tries to explain. “Someone else b-being there or-or-or w-walking in which is dumb because…” He shrugs. “My dad and his girlfriend used to h-hook up in the living room all the time, I saw _way_ more than I ever wanted to see of either of them. And, like, Ethan? W-would just… br-bring girls home and we shared a room? It’s just…” He shrugs again. Still doesn’t look at Connor. “I kn-know it’s gross and weird and pr-probably why I’m so f-fucked up about sex-”

“You’re fine,” Connor interrupts firmly. “You’re fine, it’s not…” He takes a breath. Sighs a little. “Mark and Ethan both suck. That’s… of course that’ll make you uncomfortable, that’s really fucking inconsiderate.” He pauses for a moment. “But we were, like, in my room and Zoe just burst in, it’s not the same as… that.” 

“I know,” Evan mumbles. He lays back down on the bed, his head on the pillow, staring at the ceiling. “A lock would be good.”

Connor lays down next to him. “Yeah,” he says gently. Then he rolls over to look at Evan. 

And Evan rolls over to. 

Connor’s cheeks are a little pink, too. 

Suddenly the whole situation is… kind of funny. 

Evan lets out a laugh. “Oh my god,” he says. “Your sister totally just walked in when we were jerking each other off.”

Connor laughs. It’s a small laugh at first, then it gets louder. Then his eyes go wide. “Oh my god, I can tell you now.”

Evan just looks at him. “Tell me what.”

Connor grabs his shoulder. Holds it tight. “Okay, so, before Sabrina came out, she and Zoe were hanging out in the pool house together, and it was late and I wanted to get my weed, so I walked in and they were having sex.”

Evan stares at Connor for a moment, not quite comprehending what he’s saying. 

It takes a moment, then it clicks. 

“Oh my god, _Connor._ ”

“You think Zoe walking in on us touching each other's dicks under a blanket is bad?” Connor continues with this shit-eating grin. “I saw Sabrina naked. Full on naked.”

“Great,” Evan mutters. “Now I can never talk to Sabrina again.”

“If it’s any consolation,” Connor says, the grin on his face making Evan sure that whatever he is about to say will not be any consolation at all, “I didn’t see much of the downstairs.” He pauses, obviously for effect, then continues. “Because Zoe’s face was in the way.”

“Fucking _hell,”_ Evan says, feeling his face burn again. He puts the blankets over his head. “You can go explain why we’re not going to the mall with your sister anymore. I’m going to stay in this bed until my face stops fucking burning from all the second-hand embarrassment I’m feeling right now.” 

Connor crawls under the blankets right with him. Wraps his arm around him. “We can totally stay under these blankets,” he says with a smile. “Staying here with you seems like way more fun than the mall.”

“Why would you tell me that?” Evan moans. “When we’re supposed to be hanging out with your sister, why would you tell me that?”

“Well, I couldn’t tell you at the time,” Connor says reasonably. “Because it would have been outing both of them. And that wasn’t mine to do.”

Evan blinks. Suddenly he remembers their conversation on the beach. 

How Connor had said there were things he couldn’t tell Evan. 

“So that was what had you freaked out?” he asks. “And that was… that was part of why Zoe was high at school all the time?”

Connor sighs. Nods. “Yeah,” he admits quietly. “It… I couldn’t tell you. I didn’t want to out her.” 

Evan thinks about this for a moment. Processes it. 

Connor is just… wonderful. 

He would have had every right to tell Evan about Zoe and Sabrina. To get back at Zoe for outing Connor to him. 

But he didn’t. 

He loves his sister so much. He did what was right and he tried to protect her and…

Evan pulls Connor toward him and kisses him hard. Connor deepens the kiss immediately, and they make out for a while. When they break apart, they’re both breathless. 

“What was that for?” Connor asks. 

“I just think you’re wonderful,” Evan says. 

Connor gives him this soft, slow smile, and kisses him again. Pulls Evan closer to him, slides his hand under his shirt, skin on skin. Evan opens his mouth and deepens the kiss and…

A pillow hits them. 

“Seriously?” Zoe calls out from the doorway. “Get out of bed! You can touch each others’ dicks later, we’re going to Starbucks!”

* * *

The house is full again. It’s weirding Zoe out. 

Connor’s home. Their mom is home. 

Evan is here, staying in Connor’s room. 

Zoe got sort of used to it just being her and her dad in the house for a while. It felt unusual, sure, but also like it meant everyone was safe. Connor with Evan, mom in rehab. Nobody in a place where they might get hurt. 

Having both of them home feels. Weird. Off. A little like everyone is trying to play Happy Family and not quite managing. 

Zoe has a hard time sleeping sometimes. She worries, when she can’t turn her mind off, that she seriously fucked up her brain doing all of the drugs she’s done. 

But then she reasons that Connor can still sleep. So it’s probably not that. 

Sometimes she has nightmares. 

Nightmares about Jared’s sweat dripping onto her, about his camera flashing in ways it never did in real life. When she wakes up she can still feel his weight on top of her. 

Freaks her out. 

But her brain isn’t kind enough to only bring her one variety of nightmare. No, that would be too nice. 

There are other dreams, though not as common. Dreams about Evan’s bloody face and sitting in the parking lot of the apartment complex in Chino waiting for Connor. Waiting and waiting and he never comes back. Or he does and he looks as bad as Evan. 

The worst dreams though? 

They are stupid. 

They’re just dreams about Connor’s bedroom door. In those dreams, Zoe stares at his stupid Private Property sign and tries the handle and it’s locked. 

And she knocks and knocks and Connor never answers. And in no time at all, Zoe just knows he’s hurt himself. That he’s dying on the other side of the door but nothing she can do will get it open. She picks the lock and still it won’t budge. She screams and cries and throws herself against the cheap plywood but she can’t get the door open. 

Connor didn’t have a lock on his door in April. 

Zoe’s grateful for that. 

But he has one now. 

Her dad put it on. For privacy. 

For sex, Zoe knows, which is a different kind of nightmare. 

But the lock scares the fuck out of her. One night when Connor was staying with Evan, Zoe stayed up for hours and hours to reassure herself that she could actually pick the lock if she had to. That she could get in the door if she needed to. 

Because what if she needs to? 

Zoe hates that worry but it sticks around, heavy and hard in her guts. 

Her therapist, Chelsea, says that’s all pretty common. 

Doesn’t make it feel better though. 

Near the end of July, Zoe is having another sleepless night. Connor and Evan are both here. Her mom is in the master bedroom; her dad is sleeping in the guest room still. 

And Zoe’s sitting in the kitchen, staring into the freezer helplessly because she’s oddly starving in her exhaustion. Her stomach aches with hunger. She wants to eat everything in the fridge and freezer. 

Maybe she just misses Sabrina. That’s a normal feeling right? Wanting to fill up a hole in your heart with food? 

Sabrina won’t be back from Delhi for a few weeks. She’s been emailing and she’s sent postcards, but Zoe still misses her acutely. Part of her wishes Sabrina hadn’t agreed to go for a whole month. 

Zoe settles on grabbing some ice cream and a spoon. Sets up at the breakfast bar and flips through a magazine her mom left out while she eats. She’s in the middle of a stupid article about how to make your man wild, wondering if any of this stuff would work on Sabrina, when she basically jumps a foot into the air at a sudden noise. 

“S-s-s-sorry,” Evan stammers from the doorway. “I’m j-just. Getting water?”

Zoe nods wearily, her hand still clutched to her chest. She’s just grateful she didn’t scream. Sometimes she screams. 

She’s so damn jumpy these days. It’s kinda embarrassing. “Sorry. You just. Surprised me.”

Evan frowns and nods. “Sorry.”

Zoe digs her spoon back into the ice cream as Evan fills up his glass with water from the sink. 

Zoe points her spoon toward the fridge. “We have a water filter you know.”

Evan’s cheeks color. “Oh.”

How did she ever believe this kid was from a family like hers? Zoe was really just seeing what she wanted to see in him. Not that what she sees now is bad. 

Just different. 

A lot different. 

“Can’t sleep?” Zoe says then. 

Evan’s frown deepens a little. “I… Connor has this clock? And it. Ticks really loudly.”

Zoe nods. 

“D-don’t tell him?” Evan says softly. “I… he d-doesn’t sleep well in the pool house and…”

Zoe tilts her head. “You could just. Like. Go sleep there. Get up before he wakes up.”

Evan’s eyebrows knit together. He shakes his head. “No. I don’t… I c-can’t just leave him alone.”

Zoe blinks. “He slept alone for like. Seventeen years basically. I think he’ll manage.”

Evan frowns a little at her. Moves to come and stand on the other side of the breakfast bar. “H-how come you’re awake?”

Zoe shrugs. Excavates a large piece of chocolate from the ice cream she’s eating. “Can’t sleep.”

Evan looks at her. He looks… weird. His eyebrows are pinched together. “Are you… h-how are you?”

Zoe shrugs. “I’m fine.”

Evan doesn’t look impressed. 

Fair enough. She _is_ in the kitchen at 3:30am eating ice cream instead of sleeping. 

“Well. Mostly fine. I miss Sabrina. And my dad keeps trying to bug me to go back to therapy but…” she shrugs listlessly. “I dunno. Isn’t therapy for people who have like. Actual problems?”

Something clouds Evan’s face for a moment. “Your problems are real.”

Zoe shrugs. She pushes the ice cream toward Evan. “Want some?”

Evan looks unsure. But then he nods. Zoe’s surprised when he doesn’t go hunting for his own spoon, instead just picking hers up and spooning some ice cream into his mouth. 

She doesn’t really mind, Zoe realizes. 

“It’s okay. If you’re not fine,” Evan says after they’ve traded the spoon back and forth a few times. 

Zoe wrinkles her nose. “I just. Don’t want to be _that_ girl, you know?”

Evan’s eyebrows punch again. Like he doesn’t have any idea what she means. 

Did they seriously not teach sex ed at Chino High or whatever? 

“Like. The sad sack idiot who should have known better than to get drunk and high with Jared. Like. What did I expect to happen when I decided to sleep with him?” 

Evan looks really fucking _sad._ Zoe doesn’t like it. Doesn’t want to be the center of attention at this little pity party. “Y-you should h-have been safe. He sh-should have listened.”

Zoe shrugs. “Not like I didn’t have it coming. After what a bitch I was…to everyone? Karma sure bitchslapped me, huh?”

“Don’t say that,” Evan says softly. 

Zoe doesn’t know what to say. She takes up the spoon and takes a big bite to avoid talking. 

“You didn’t deserve that. N-nobody deserves that.”

Zoe shrugs. Hands over the spoon. “I really am sorry. About. Our date. I was. Awful.”

Evan nods kind of vaguely. 

She’s said this before but it seems like it needs repeating. “I should have listened to you. And not gotten all. Mad and mean about it.”

Evan sighs. “It’s… it’s alright. We’re alright.”

Zoe sighs. “Wanna know something fucked up?”

Evan looks at her. His face is open, like he’s really listening. This is part of why she liked him so much before. Back when she liked him. Because he always actually listened to her. 

“In April? When Connor took all those pills?” She smiles almost. Rueful. That’s what she thinks the smile is. “I was still buying them off of Jared. Jared sold pills _twice_ that almost killed him.”

Evan takes a sharp breath in. 

Doesn’t say anything. 

“After what he did… what he _kept_ doing? I was still like. A loyal customer. How messed up is that?”

“Zoe…” he says softly. “It’s not your fault.”

“It kind of is,” Zoe says forcefully. “My brother’s a _drug addict,_ Evan. And I had drugs in the next room for like. Months. Honestly I’m just surprised it didn’t happen sooner. After all the shit at school…” She sighs. “I didn’t even _talk_ to him when the note went on the website. I’m an asshole.”

Evan takes the ice cream spoon. Scoops some ice cream onto it. Pops it into his mouth and looks… thoughtful. 

Part of her wants him to tell her she’s an asshole and just leave. It would serve her right. It’s what she has coming. 

But. 

She also desperately wants him to say she’s okay. That she’s not so bad anymore. 

Zoe’s trying not to be so bad these days. She’s really trying. 

“If… if s-something like what happened with Jared h-happened to me? I… I dunno if I would. Would want to… to feel that either.” Evan glances up at her. “So. L-like. It… it makes sense.”

Zoe nods, feeling kind of hollow. 

“I still want to kick his ass,” Evan volunteers suddenly. 

Zoe looks at him, her eyebrows furrowing. Right. Like Evan can fight anyone right now. 

“I know he’s… under house arrest or whatever. And th-that I’m like. Not in a position to be kicking any asses. But…” he toys with the spoon in the ice cream. “I hate what he did to you.”

Zoe gives Evan a bitter smile. “What he did to Connor too.”

Evan’s eyebrows go up. “What?”

“The note,” Zoe says. “That was him. On the website.” She frowns a bit. Her eyes sting. “He threatened to… put the pictures he had of me on the school site. Like he did with Connor’s note.” 

Evan looks disgusted. “What the fuck.”

“Yeah,” Zoe says. 

“Does Connor know?”

Zoe shrugs. “I… if I tell him. He’ll know it was my fault. That Jared only did it because he was pissed at _me_.”

Evan looks confused. “What?”

“I told everyone Jared has a tiny dick,” Zoe says. “After what happened.”

Evan almost smiles. “Does he?”

Zoe shrugs. “I don’t have a lot to compare it to.”

Evan nods. 

* * *

There’s a part of Evan that can’t quite wrap his head around what happened to Zoe. Can’t face it. Can’t let himself think about it because it’s so painful, so awful that his brain wants to shrink away from it. Doesn’t want to let him confront the pain of it all. 

His brain just doesn’t want to dwell on it. It keeps… bouncing away from it. 

That’s probably why he knows he just doesn’t understand it. Doesn’t understand the gravity, the severity of it all. 

That’s probably why he hasn’t really known how to talk to her about it over the last few months. 

He’s had a lot to deal with on his own, obviously. And he’s been worrying about Connor, too. But he hasn’t forgotten what Zoe’s been through. 

He hasn’t known how to talk about it. 

How to help. 

Here in the kitchen in the middle of the night, sharing ice cream with a girl he used to have a huge crush on, Evan feels… weird. 

Mostly because he doesn’t actually feel that weird at all. 

It’s weird in its lack of weirdness. If that’s even a thing. 

Evan looks at Zoe, in her pajamas at nearly four in the morning. Her hair is loose and kind of messy. She’s not wearing any makeup. Her pajamas are shorts and a huge baggy t-shirt. 

It’s all a far cry from the girl he met at Heidi’s place the day after he first arrived. The girl who seemed unreal, like something that stepped out of a magazine. 

Like something that couldn’t be real. 

This Zoe is real, he thinks. 

And while the way he feels about her has changed, he still definitely feels something. He still cares. 

Still hates knowing what she’s been through. What happened to her. 

But she’s tough. Strong. 

“You and Connor aren’t actually as different as you think you are,” he blurts out. 

Zoe laughs a little. Scoops out a chunk of ice cream, then raises her eyebrows. “Yeah?”

Evan feels his cheeks color slightly. “Yeah,” he says with a nod. 

“Because we were both stupid and reckless and did a bunch of drugs?” 

Evan shakes his head. “You’re both strong,” he tells her quietly. “You’re strong and you… feel a lot?”

Zoe bites her lip. Nods. 

Evan smiles at her. “And you’re brave,” he continues. “You’re really brave.”

Zoe’s shoulders sag. “I should have been brave earlier,” she mumbles. “I should have… I wasn’t brave when I should have been. When it would have counted.”

Evan scoots a little closer. Reaches out and tentatively takes Zoe’s hand. 

Squeezes it tightly. 

“There’s not, like, a time frame,” he tells her, trying to keep his voice gentle but firm. “You d-didn’t miss your shot. You were brave when you came out at school? When you sang that song for Sabrina to ask her to prom.”

Zoe smiles, this kind of embarrassed smile. “Connor showed you the video, didn’t he?”

“At least fifty times,” Evan replies immediately with a grin. “He was so proud? He like… came over and told me all about it. Talked for hours and hours about how brave and talented and wonderful his sister is.”

Zoe’s eyes fill up with tears. “He said that?”

“He did,” Evan tells her. “And he’s right. You’re brave. You’re… all the things Connor said you are, and then some.” He squeezes her hand again. Smiles at her. “And I’m glad we’re friends again.”

Zoe sniffs. “Me too,” she says, her voice a little watery. 

She moves her chair a little closer, and leans her head on Evan’s shoulder. 

They sit there in the kitchen quietly for what feels like a long time. 

* * *

Zoe sniffs a few more times. Lifts her head off of Evan’s shoulder and wipes her eyes. 

“I’m really sorry,” She says after a moment. “About how much of a bitch I was?”

Evan nods. 

“You didn’t deserve that,” Zoe says. “You were always, always nicer to me than I deserved.”

Evan looks at her strangely. “I th-think you deserved kindness,” he says finally. “And a lot of-of stuff happened. It m-makes sense. Th-that you w-weren’t always your best.”

Zoe thinks that sounds like an excuse. 

“I… About Connor,” She says suddenly. “I didn’t know. At first. I didn’t know why people call him -”

Evan flinches before she can even say it. Zoe feels guilt pool inside her guts. She takes a breath. “I was still in middle school when it happened. My parents… I didn’t even know about the note. They didn’t tell me about it. He said… he asked them not to let me see it?” Zoe shakes her head. “I know that doesn’t make it okay, I know, but Sabrina had to tell me why I… I thought it was because he left school for a year. I really thought -”

“Okay,” Evan says. 

“And I… You called me out on it.”

Evan nods. 

“I… I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry,” Zoe says. “I apologized to Connor and I’m… I won’t let anyone call him that around me ever again, okay? But I wanted you to know too.”

Evan gives her a sort of weak smile. 

And suddenly something clicks in Zoe’s head. “It’s not the clock,” She says. 

“What?” Evan seems confused. 

“Connor’s clock isn’t keeping you up,” Zoe ventures. “It’s his room. Because that’s where he ODed. Right?”

Evan swallows hard. Looks away. “It’s my fault.”

Zoe shakes her head hard. “No. Absolutely not. It’s _mine._ I had drugs in the house -”

“If I h-hadn’t gone to my-my dad’s-”

“No,” Zoe repeats firmly. “No, okay? It was me. I had the drugs. I was… It’s my fault okay? You didn’t do anything.”

“But if I hadn’t lost m-my shit he wouldn’t have e-even thought about it,” Evan says quietly. “He’d b-b-been offered drugs before. A f-few times. But he didn’t t-t-t-take them until I…” Evan trails off. His cheeks are pink, his eyes glassy.

Zoe bite her lip and then says, “Can I give you a hug or something?”

Evan looks surprised, but then nods. Zoe hugs him tight, and he hooks his chin over her shoulder. Takes a few shuddery breaths. 

“It wasn’t your fault Evan,” Zoe says. “You didn’t do that to him.”

Evan sniffles in response. “He sc-scares the shit out of m-me sometimes,” He whispers. 

“What do you mean?”

Evan pulls away from her. Wipes his eyes awkwardly. “He… C-Connor can be s-so… reckless?”

Zoe feels that. In her guts. It’s the truth. He is fucking reckless. 

“He w-w-went after my dad,” Evan says. 

“Jared too,” Zoe adds softly. Because he did. He went after Jared for her. He went after Evan’s dad for him. Hurt them both pretty badly too. 

Hurt himself worse. So many times. 

“I don’t… what if he…?”

Zoe feels her eyes sting. She blinks rapidly. “We just. We won’t let him, okay? We’ll both look out for him. Have his back. Yeah?”

Evan looks surprised. But he nods. “Yeah.”

Zoe glances at the clock. It’s way late. After four thirty in the morning. They shouldn’t be up, talking about this shit in the middle of the night. “We should be sleeping.”

Evan nods. He still looks uneasy. 

“I know how to pick the lock,” Zoe volunteers suddenly. “In Connor’s room. Not to be like - not to be gross or whatever. Not to take his shit or mess with you guys. I’m not just gonna do it for… But just… If he ever tries again? I can pick the lock. So.”

Something like relief sweeps over Evan’s face. He grabs Zoe in an unexpected and tight hug. “Thank you.”

They both head up the stairs. Evan turns into Connor’s bedroom, and Zoe walks to hers. “Hey Evan?” She says just before she turns on her bedroom light. 

“Y-yeah?”

“I’m glad Connor has you,” She says finally. It’s the truth. After all of the bullshit and jealousy, Zoe knows now that… she’s glad Connor has Evan. Because Evan looks out for him. Even when Connor doesn’t look out for himself. 

“I’m glad he-he has you too.”

“Night.”

“Night.”

* * *

The school library is dark. Empty. Evan’s got a bad feeling about this. 

He fumbles through his bag from the stake and crucifix he’s carried with him ever since he moved to Sunnydale and makes his way inside, his back against the wall so no one can sneak up on him. If he can just find the light switch…

There’s a thud, then a howling sound, and the ceiling caves in, the whole room flooded with moonlight. 

Shit. Werewolves. 

Evan runs through the woods, the sound of howling ringing in his ears, trying to outrun the creatures. Of course he’s got a fucking crucifix and stake but no silver. Dammit, why doesn’t he have silver?

He trips over a tree branch and he’s falling down a hole, falling in the dark for what feels like a long time until finally, he hits the bottom. 

There’s a tunnel through the sewers. He holds the stake and the crucifix close to him and makes his way through, trying to ignore the smell. 

“Evan!”

He turns around to see Willow coming toward him, her red hair flying as she runs. She pulls him into a hug and he hugs her back. 

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” she asks. 

“I’m fine,” Evan assures her, then leans in to kiss her. The moment he does, he can tell there’s something wrong. Her lips are too cold. When he puts his hand on her shoulder, he can’t feel the pumping of her blood, and there’s a mark on her neck. 

Oh. Oh no. 

No no no no no-

Willow throws him across the room and he slams into the wall. 

“Should have known it wouldn’t take you long,” Willow says as she walks toward him kneeling down beside him. “You were always too smart for your own good.”

“Who did this?” Evan demands, winded. “Who turned you?”

“I didn’t get a name and address,” Willow tells him with a cruel smile. “Before I killed him.” 

Evan feels his blood run cold at the realisation that the girl of his dreams is now a murderous vampire. How could this happen? 

“We’ll find a spell,” Evan invents wildly. “To reverse it. To make you human again.”

Willow just laughs. Shakes her head, then moves to straddle him, pinning him to the floor. It’s then that he notices she’s wearing what looks like a leather corset, which… honestly he probably should have noticed earlier. 

“Why would I want to be human again?” she asks, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. “You have no idea how good it feels. To be strong. You want to be strong, don't you?” 

“Sure,” Evan says uneasily, “but I don’t want to be undead.” 

Willow kisses him, and her lips are still too cold, not warm and familiar like he’s used to, but it’s still Willow. Still the girl he fell in love with, who was at his side when they stumbled upon a huge vampire conspiracy in town and made friends with a vampire slayer. 

He doesn’t push her away. He kisses her deeper. Lets her take off his shirt, lets her touch him. She’s more aggressive than usual, more than he’s used to but he doesn’t mind it, really. Willow pulls off her own shirt and Evan goes to unhook her bra, then pulls her on top of him. 

She’s still beautiful naked, even though she’s dead. Undead. Is this necrophilia? Evan doesn’t know, but then she’s touching him and she’s on top of him and she’s kissing him and he decides he can think about all of that later because holy shit. 

“It’ll only hurt for a moment,” says Willow. 

Evan doesn’t know what she’s talking about and is about to tell her this when she sinks her fangs into his neck. 

His stake and crucifix are in the pocket of his jeans, which are across the room, and he’s definitely going to die. He is absolutely going to die he-

Evan sits up in bed. 

Puts his hand to his neck to check for a wound, for blood, for…

“Oh my god,” he says out loud. 

What the fuck. What the fuck. 

“What’s going on?” Connor slurs. He sits up, turns on his bedside lamp and looks at Evan, frowning. “Are you okay?”

“She bit me,” Evan says, not really sure if he’s awake. 

“Who bit you?” Connor asks. 

Evan blinks a few times. Looks at Connor. 

His boyfriend. 

His boyfriend whose bed he is currently in. 

He is in his boyfriend’s bed and he just had a sex dream about being bitten by a vampire, what the fuck. 

A female vampire. 

A fictional character, none the less. 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck. 

“I’m so sorry,” Evan says in a rush. “I’m so sorry, I had sex with a vampire. A girl vampire.”

Connor just stares at him blankly. “What?” 

“In my dream,” Evan tries to explain. “I had sex with a vampire and then she bit me. I’m really fucking sorry.”

Connor keeps staring at him. “You had sex with a vampire.”

“A girl vampire.”

“In a dream.”

“Yes.”

Connor rubs his face. Looks at Evan again. Looks at his neck. “Well, you don’t appear to be bleeding, so… yay?”

“Willow was a vampire,” Evan tells him. “She got turned into a vampire and she bit me and I was trying to escape from a werewolf but I didn’t bring any silver bullets just a crucifix and a stake but they were in my pants and Willow totally took my pants off so I was absolutely defenseless and I shouldn’t have slept with her anyway because she’s dead. Undead? Is it necrophilia do I have a weird dead person fetish oh my god oh my god-”

“So maybe we stop watching Buffy before bed?” Connor interrupts. He’s got this look on his face like he’s trying not to laugh. 

“I dream-cheated on you,” Evan says mournfully. “I’m so fucking sorry, I want you to know that I’d never cheat on you awake and definitely not with a vampire.”

Connor blinks a few times. “Willow’s not a vampire, though.”

“There’s an alternate version of her in season 3 who is,” Evan points out.

“Yeah, and by season 4 she’s a lesbian,” Connor continues. He’s definitely smiling now. 

“I’m sorry for dream-cheating on you,” Evan says again. His heart is still beating way too fast. 

“Was I in the dream?” Connor asks, sounding curious. 

Evan thinks back. “No. But given the fatality rate at Sunnydale High…”

“Yeah,” Connor says with a nod. “I’m probably vampire food. Probably not that tasty, though, considering how much I’ve fucked up my body.”

* * *

Connor is trying very _very_ hard not to laugh at Evan. He seems genuinely upset and it would be very unkind to laugh at him. But it’s very difficult because. 

What the fuck? 

Evan has dream sex with an alternative-version of a fictional character and he’s apologizing? He’s apologizing to Connor. He’s fucking adorable and weird. 

He knew Alana shouldn’t have gotten Evan into this damn vampire show. She’s got the whole box set on DVD and keeps convincing them all to watch it. Evan likes it - even borrowed a season from Alana to keep watching so he doesn’t have to wait for them all to watch it together. Next thing Connor knows, Evan’s gonna be having dream sex with the vampire boy in that _Twilight_ book Zoe’s been reading. 

“I’m so sorry,” Evan says. “I would _never_ if I was awake-”

Connor can’t help it. A tiny giggle sneaks out. He tries to clear his throat to cover it but it’s no use. 

“You’re…. you’re laughing?”

Connor slaps a hand over his mouth and bites his cheek and tries not to. “No,” he says. Fails, because it comes out at this stupid choking laugh noise. He buries his face into a pillow for a moment to try to stifle the laughter. “I’m sorry,” Connor wheezes trying so hard to keep it together. “Just. Y-you had dream sex with a lesbian vampire and you _are apologizing._ Dr-dream-cheating is… not a thing.”

“But I had sex! With someone else!”

“In a _dream,_ ” Connor says, trying so damn hard not to laugh. “It’s like. Not a big deal. We’re hormonal teenagers. Shit happens. It’s pretty normal.”

Evan’s face goes pale in the dark. “You’ve had sex dreams about other people?” 

Shit. Connor shrugs. “Not in a while but yeah. Sometimes. It doesn’t mean anything. Dreams are just… neurobabble or whatever.”

Evan still seems upset. “But… but…”

“It’s not a big deal,” Connor says. He manages to swallow his giggles. He tries to pull Evan to him but Evan pulls away. 

“No. I… I’m the _worst._ ”

“Evan. Come on. It was just a dream.”

“But…. but.” He looks like he’s struggling to put what’s bugging him into words. “But Willow. Is a girl.”

Connor blinks a couple of times. “Well. Yeah.” He’s seen the show. She’s pretty _gay_ for a girl or whatever. 

“But. I. You’re my boyfriend.”

Connor’s not understanding. “Yes,” he says slowly. 

“Aren’t I… I-I. I mean. So I’m gay?”

Connor blinks. They haven’t really like. Talked about that. He’s not totally sure like. Where Evan stands on the whole identity thing. He kind of assumed Evan’s _not straight_ based on all of the gay shit they’ve been doing but. Maybe Connor read this wrong. 

Maybe he’s not gay. Maybe he’s straight and Connor’s like a weird blip for him. Maybe he doesn’t even like guys. Maybe he only likes Connor because he kind of looks girly, maybe he doesn’t like guys at all-

Connor shakes his head. He’s being ridiculous. It was a _dream_. Stupid to get all insecure and worked up about a dream. It’s not like Evan chose to have a dream and Connor’s had some weird ass sex dreams before too. He once had one about Mr. Flowers, his French teacher at Hanover. He was young and cute but Connor’s pretty positive he wouldn’t wear eyeliner and demand a blowjob for an A in real life. 

And Connor doubts in real life he’s got a monster penis. That thing was kind of scary in his dream and he couldn’t look Mr. Flowers in the face for _weeks._

Anyway. 

Stupid to get worked up over a sex dream. Evan thought he was straight for years. It’s not weird that maybe his subconscious hasn’t caught up or whatever. Or.

Well he supposes there’s a chance Evan’s _not_ gay. He supposes that… maybe that’s what it is. 

“I mean,” Connor says. “Are you though?”

* * *

Evan blinks. 

“I… I have to be, right?” he says, a little hesitantly. “Because I… I love you. And I love being with you. And, like… you’re definitely a guy, it’s not like I’m… pretending you’re a girl or some shit, I know you’re a guy and I _love_ you. And I want to be with you, not with anyone else. Especially not a vampire.”

“A vampire who’s canonically a lesbian after season 4,” Connor adds in this light tone that’s just a little too forced to be truly teasing. 

Evan blinks. Frowns. 

“I must sound like such a fucking idiot,” he mumbles. “I just… in the dream, Willow was my girlfriend and then she got turned into a vampire and I had sex with her anyway. And I, like… liked her. Wanted her, but… I want you. I _only_ want you. So I’m… I’m gay, right?”

Connor frowns a little, but he looks kinda thoughtful. “Alana’s always on about the spectrum of sexuality,” he points out. “And Heidi said that David had a boyfriend in college.”

Evan feels his chest clench. “But… then he married Heidi,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t… I don’t want _anyone_ but you. _Ever._ I don’t wanna… I don’t wanna just one day, like, suddenly be into girls and have that change on me, I don’t want to lose you I don’t ever want to lose you I-”

“Evan,” Connor says calmly. “Evan, it was just a dream.” He straightens his shoulders. Tilts his head. “But, I mean, you clearly did have a thing for Zoe. That was, like, kind of obvious.”

Evan’s eyes widen. “I don’t still-”

“I know,” Connor interrupts, and he sounds sure and it makes something in Evan’s chest settle a little. “I know. You love me, but you liked her. You had a crush on her.” He looks thoughtful. “What about the other people you’ve had crushes on?”

Evan blinks. Tries to think. 

“I, uh…”

Connor looks a little confused. “You mean my sister is the only other person you’ve been attracted to?” He blinks a few times. “Wow. Maybe it’s just my family. That’s weird.”

“I mean, I’ve thought people were hot,” Evan says, feeling his cheeks burn. “Like, uh… Sabrina has great boobs please don’t tell her I said that.”

Connor smiles a little, then makes an exaggerated ‘cross my heart’ motion. “Any guys?” he asks, a little curiously. 

Evan is about to say no, but he stops. 

Feels his cheeks go even pinker. 

“Don’t make fun of me,” he mumbles. 

“I would never,” Connor says gently. 

Evan closes his eyes. “The guitarist from Panic! At The Disco,” he confesses, not looking at Connor. “He was… nice to look at. And when he and the singer, like… totally kissed on stage, that was… that was hot.”

“Dude, it _was_ hot,” Connor agrees, sounding a little amused. 

Evan feels his cheeks burning. “Also,” he mumbles, “th-that guy with the long hair from… fuck, I can’t r-remember the band, but… he was in that Fall Out Boy video? With the… the vampires?”

“William Beckett,” Connor says immediately. Evan opens his eyes and looks at Connor, who is genuinely grinning now. “So you have a vampire kink, maybe?”

“He was hotter in the video for that Snakes on a Plane song.”

Connor blinks. 

He looks…

Confused. And amused. But not, like, upset. 

“I just want you,” Evan tells him firmly. “Okay? Just you. No one but you. So… like, I don’t know if I’m gay or bi or just, like, Connor-sexual, but I know that you are the only person I want. I love you.”

Connor blinks again. A slow smile crosses his face. 

“Connor-sexual?”

“Shut up,” Evan says irritably. “I’m trying to be, like, romantic here.”

“You are so fucking adorable,” Connor says, leaning in and kissing him. 

His lips are warm. Evan puts a hand on his face. Feels his pulse at his neck. 

“Good news,” Evan says when he pulls away. “You’ve got a pulse.”

“So I’m not a vampire?” Connor asks with a grin. 

“Apparently not,” Evan confirms. 

Connor’s grin widens. “I mean, I’ll bite you if you want me to.”

Evan rolls his eyes. “Let’s just go back to sleep, okay?”

* * *

Connor thinks a lot about the conversation he had with Evan following his dream about Willow from Buffy. 

On the one hand, Evan’s so adorable and that dream is fucking hilarious. 

On the other… Evan. Liked girls. Seems scared that someday he’s gonna wake up and _only_ like girls. Maybe he still likes girls?

And. It’s not like Connor doesn’t worry about that. He tries not to get into extreme fits of insecurity because that’s uncool. He doesn’t want to be like a jealous and insecure baby. But also part of him is a little bit glad Sabrina is in India for a couple more weeks with her reportedly great boobs. 

Connor knows he’s being silly. Stupid. He can’t just. Decide Evan is gay because it would be more convenient for Connor. And also wouldn’t exactly mean Evan wasn’t looking at other people. 

This is California. There’s a lot of fucking hot guys around. Guys way hotter than Connor. If Evan were looking at them, Connor would… feel ways about it. 

Connor’s trying not to pin all of his positive feelings about his body on Evan because that is a shitty thing to do. But it gets a bit hard. Evan’s really the only person saying nice stuff about it. 

Like he said Connor’s arms looked nice the other day. Because Connor’s been playing a lot of softball in gym class. And he said he likes Connor’s noodle legs but he didn’t say they were noodles that was Connor’s brain adding that. 

Connor just. 

He doesn’t know what to do with Evan maybe still liking girls. Part of it does make him feel a bit inadequate because he can’t give Evan whatever stuff he likes about girls. He doesn’t have like. Boobs or a vagina. 

Not that all girls have those but a lot of them do and Evan does kind of seem like a boobs guy. And Connor has nothing boob-like about him. 

He tries not to obsessively catalogue how he thinks he looks, and when those thoughts start, Connor just tries to interrupt them like Cory told him. So he tries to just, like, interrupt his brain goes all _You’re so gross looking and your chest is basically concave and you have freakishly tiny nipples and Evan likes girls and he’s gonna get sick of looking at you and you can never ever cut your hair-_

_No thanks, Brain. Appreciate the feedback but you’re wrong._

Connor keeps thinking about Evan and whether he’s gay as the week goes on. Trying to figure out what it all means. 

Maybe Evan likes both guys and girls? Like. David apparently did. That’s a thing. Probably. 

Connor wishes, not for the first time, that David had _said something_ about that when he was still around. It would probably help. 

Heidi said David didn’t really like labels but he probably would have picked bisexual if he had to pick one. Maybe Evan’s bi? 

Connor’s never met anyone who was bi and out before. Suddenly he feels a bit like _he’s_ the one on the back foot about all of this… gay stuff. Queer stuff? Is that even an okay word? LGBT stuff. 

B _is_ in there. 

Connor is kind of used to being the one who knows shit about being a dude who likes dudes. He’s had sex before and hooked up with a couple of people so he’s used to being the one out of him and Evan who knows what’s going on with it. But this he doesn’t know and Connor’s kind of lost. 

Miguel has a lot of opinions on bisexuality that he used to like to share with Connor, but they weren’t usually consistent. Sometimes he would argue that nobody was 100% gay or 100% straight. That everyone was a little bisexual. 

But then he’d turn around and cuss out dudes who said they were bi. M would always say they were doing it for attention or just to scared to admit they were gay. Connor will admit - claiming to be bi _did_ cross his mind when he was first figuring out he liked dudes and people started calling him a fag. Not because he thought it was true; Connor knew pretty fast he didn’t actually like girls. Just because it seemed like an easier transition. Like. Weird but not as weird as being gay would make him. 

And Connor _knows_ he’s gay. Evan asked him once how he knew and Connor doesn’t really have a good answer. He just knows that every interaction he’s had with girls hadn’t felt quite right. It always felt like he was forcing something. 

Connor doesn’t want Evan to feel like he’s forcing something. 

But part of his brain worries that Evan _is._ What if he’s forcing things with Connor? Maybe that’s why it took him a while to say “I love you.” Like he’s an empathetic dude. Maybe he just absorbed how much Connor loves him and now he thinks he’s gotta love Connor back. 

Fuck. 

Connor tries to remember the thing Evan says he does, when his asshole brain tries to tell him dumbass shit. 

He goes through the facts. 

Okay. 

Connor decides to try it. 

Fact, Evan says that he loves Connor. And he’s not the sort of dude who says that easily as evidenced by… everything it took to get him to say it to Connor. So. He can take Evan at his word. He loves Connor. 

Okay, another fact: Evan wants him. He said that Connor’s the only person he ever wants and that. Lit Connor up inside. Made him feel so fucking amazing and loved. 

But also part of him wonders how honest Evan is being. 

Not that Connor wants to be with anyone else ever but. At least he’s only into guys and he’s _with_ a guy. So if Evan really does like girls… 

Connor won’t be able to be what he wants all the time. Because he’ll never be a girl. 

He’ll maybe never be enough. 

Connor doesn’t like that so much. That nugget of insecurity that no matter how good of a boyfriend he might try to be, he’ll never be able to replace a girlfriend. He’ll never be able to give that to Evan. 

Unless he wanted to do that? Be with a girl and with Connor? 

Connor doesn’t know how he feels about _that._

Okay those aren’t facts. He needs to stick to facts. 

Fact: Evan loves him. Evan wants him. 

… Evan liked Zoe. Who is a girl. 

Also maybe is gay. 

Does Evan like lesbians? His sex dream _was_ about a lesbian character. 

Ugh, that’s not a fact. 

Okay. 

Facts. 

Evan loves Connor. Evan wants Connor. Evan used to like Zoe but he doesn’t anymore. But he did kiss her and he didn’t say that was bad, just when Zoe tried to push things toward sex. He thinks Sabrina has great boobs. 

Connor tries to weigh up all of these facts but he hasn’t got a conclusion he can draw. If this was an argumentative paper, Mr. Stevens would hand it back and tell him he needed stronger evidence one way or the other. 

Fact… 

Evan has blown Connor. And seemed to like doing it. A straight dude wouldn’t _give_ a blowjob. Right? 

So that’s one more point in favor of being gay. 

Another fact… Evan thinks Ryan Ross is hot. 

But is that gay or… like most of the girls Evan thinks are pretty or whatever are real people they interact with daily. Ryan Ross and William Beckett are famous people that they don’t know. 

Well. Shit. 

Connor doesn’t know what to make of this. It’s not cut and dry. 

He wonders if there’s like a gay test you can take. 

Then again, Connor’s so weird he’d probably take it and find out he’s some hyper-gay freak or something. Like. Too gay to function. 

Genuinely. A couple of weeks ago, Evan kissed Connor’s neck before they went to summer school and Connor was so distracted by it he got hit in the head with a ball when they were playing kickball in gym class. 

Ugh. That was embarrassing. He’d fallen over. Jessie Walton plays soccer and just totally nailed him right in the nose. He started bleeding and just went down. 

He knows he loves Evan. And he knows Evan loves him back. But...

Connor doesn’t know what to think. 

And he finds himself thinking about it and when he and Zoe are floating around in the pool on Thursday after school while Heidi takes Evan to see his neurologist and his therapist. Connor had offered to go with but last time he’d genuinely almost fainted in the neurologist’s office because he got so nervous about it for Evan that he forgot to eat. For like. Forty-eight hours. 

So Evan gently suggested he skip this one. Heidi’s there so he’s not alone. 

Zoe is on a pool float on her stomach, and she’s saying something about how the back of her legs are pale and Connor finds himself blurting out, “So are you gay?”

Zoe stares at him over her sunglasses. “Uh. What?”

Connor feels his face heat up. “Are you. Like. Are you gay?”

“Why?”

“Well. Sabrina and you are dating.”

Zoe nods. 

“But you used to like guys.” Connor bites his lip. “Unless you were just… pretending?”

Zoe looks thoughtful. She doesn’t have as many freckles as Connor, he realizes. She looks more like when you first toast a marshmallow and it’s barely golden. “I don’t think I was pretending to like guys,” she says. “Like. I liked boys when I was little. And I liked…”

She trails off. 

“Evan. You liked Evan,” Connor says. He tries not to act all weird and jealous about it. Even though he super is. 

Zoe looks sheepish. “Yeah, but Sabrina and I were messing around most of that time. I think mostly I just didn’t know how to be a guy’s friend without thinking I wanted to get with him. I think I just thought Evan was cool and cute so my brain was all: date him.”

Connor relaxes a bit. 

“But I did like him? I dunno it’s kinda confusing.”

Connor nods. 

“I like Sabrina more though.”

“Okay.”

“And the only guy I’ve like been with is… Jared so. I dunno.”

Fuck. Why did Connor bring this up with Zoe? He’s an asshole. 

Zoe sighs. “And I didn’t _like_ that. With Jared. Obviously. But I’m not sure if it was because he was, like, a dick or…or if it was because he was a guy.”

“Right.”

“Why? You suddenly like girls?”

Connor shakes his head. “No. I don’t. Just. How did you know you liked girls…?”

Zoe looks thoughtful. “Uh. I dunno. The lightbulb didn’t really go off until I kissed Sabrina?”

Connor nods. Fuck. Evan’s kissed Zoe. He didn’t say it was bad. 

“How’d you know you liked boys?”

Connor shrugs. “I just kinda… knew? I dunno. I had a crush on Tommy Whittington in third grade. I used to let him cheat off my spelling tests.”

Zoe laughs at him. “So you knew before you ever like… got with a dude?”

Connor swallows but then nods. 

“You’ve kissed girls before,” Zoe points out. “Did you not like that?”

Connor feels his face heat up. “It was like. It was fine. I dunno. It was like… Diet Coke.”

Zoe stares at him. “What?”

“Like when you order a regular coke but get diet instead. It wasn’t like bad or whatever, but it wasn’t what I wanted.”

Zoe shrugs. “I like Diet Coke.”

Connor frowns at her. 

“But I like regular coke too.”

“But which one do you like _more_?” Connor asks. This seems important suddenly. Like Zoe holds the answers he’s afraid to ask Evan for. 

Zoe shrugs. “I dunno. I don’t drink that much soda.” She looks at him. “This is about Evan right?”

Connor looks away. 

“Liking people isn’t like. Liking soda, you know,” Zoe says.

Connor sighs. “What if he likes girls and I’m like. A blip. A phase?”

“You mean like your dumbass emo phase?”

Connor splashes her. “That’s not a phase. I’m emo for life.”

“Uh-huh, sure, come talk to me in five years. We’ll see if you’re _still_ emo then.”

Connor splashes her again. 

“Jerk!” Zoe says, splashing him back. 

They get into a splash fight, both of them hopping off of their floats to just attack each other with waves of water. They end up splashing and laughing until their hands and feet get all pruney and then they get out to dry off in the sun. 

“So like. What. Are you worried Evan doesn’t like you?”

Connor shakes his head. His wet hair flies around and gets them both wet. “No. It’s not that. Just. What if he doesn’t really like dudes? What if I’m like. A weird exception or whatever? Or he likes me but only because I’m...” Connor gestures sort of vaguely at his entire bony, kind of girly looking self. 

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Zoe says. 

“But I’ve heard about girls who like. Get with girls until they finish college and then they’re just straight again.”

“I don’t think Evan’s a L.U.G. Or… a G.U.G. Gay until graduation? Is there a guy version?”

 _Yes_ , Connor thinks. _David was one. Maybe._

“I wouldn’t worry about it. He’s totally into you. However he feels about girls or guys, he’s super about you. You guys are kinda gross with how _in looooove_ you both are.”

Connor makes a face at her. 

“Hey I’m not knocking it. I’m just saying. You’re really into each other.” Zoe pulls a silly face. “Much more than most people who are dating in high school. You make me and Sabrina look like, I dunno, lab partners or something.” 

Connor shrugs. He’s not about to start hiding how he feels about Evan. That would be super disingenuous. 

And it still doesn’t… get at the thing he’s worried about. 

“I dunno. Evan’s never like. Really liked other guys? And I liked him for _months_ before he said he liked me back.” Connor chews his lip. “I just. How do I know he means it when he says he only wants me?”

Zoe smiles. “I liked Sabrina for months and still went out with Evan. Sabrina liked me and she like. Dated Michael and had sex with him. Sometimes it takes a bit to figure out.”

Connor rolls his eyes. “Thanks. You were no help at all.”

Zoe shrugs. “I wouldn’t worry about it. Seriously. He gets all googly eyes around you. He loves you. He only has eyes for you.”

Connor nods. “Thanks. Asshole.”

“You’re welcome, bitch.”

* * *

Evan spends a lot of time thinking about his weird Willow sex dream. 

Enough time that he actually brings it up in therapy. Alice listens carefully, this small smile on her face, and Evan’s just glad she’s not fucking laughing at him. 

“I know it’s stupid,” Evan says lamely as he wraps up the dream. “But I just… I don’t know, I guess I’m… confused.”

“Confused about what?” asks Alice calmly, with this look on her face like she knows exactly what he means but wants him to actually say it. 

“Confused about whether I’m gay or not.” 

Alice nods. Leans back on her chair. “Well, what do you think?”

Evan blinks. He’s still getting used to the fact that Alice likes to ask him questions instead of just telling him what he’s supposed to do or whatever. 

“I don’t know,” Evan confesses after a moment. “That’s the thing.” He bites his lip. Tries to make his thoughts make sense. “I… when I was thirteen, my d-dad said that if I turned out gay he’d k-kill me. And I was always… so scared? But I… I knew that I liked girls. And I don’t… I don’t think that’s changed? I don’t feel… different, to how I did when I knew I liked girls.” 

Alice nods. Looks a little sad. “That must have been hard. Your dad saying that to you when you were so young.” 

Evan feels cold. He tries to shrug. “I mean,” he tries to explain, “I… yeah. It… it stuck, I guess.” He sighs. “I was… I was st-stupid, I let it stick, I…” 

When he doesn’t continue, Alice speaks up, her voice quiet. 

“You went to see your dad,” she says calmly. “The morning after you and Connor hooked up. And he hurt you.”

Evan closes his eyes. “He hurt me because I t-told him about what I did with Connor,” he admits, feeling his hands shake. “He was d-drunk and I… I told him what I did with Connor, because I… I w-wanted him to hurt me. I… I felt like I d-d-deserved it.” 

“Why did you feel like you deserved it?” Alice asks quietly. 

“B-b-b-because I nearly k-k-killed someone,” Evan says shakily. “I n-n-nearly… I h-h-hurt s-someone and I d-d-deserved to be h-h-hurt.” 

It’s quiet for a moment. 

Alice finally breaks the silence. “Did you deserve to be hurt _because_ you hooked up with Connor?” 

Evan shakes his head immediately. “No,” he says. He opens his eyes. Looks at Alice. “ _No_ ,” he says again, his voice firmer. “That’s n-not… I j-j-j-j-j-just kn-knew it would…” His shoulders sag. “I w-wanted to die and I… I kn-knew that would… that’s wh-what it would take.”

Alice nods again. Her face is kind. Open. 

“You and Connor have hooked up again since then,” she says after a moment. She looks right at him. “Have you hurt yourself again?”

Evan shakes his head, so hard it almost hurts. “No,” he says firmly. “No, it’s… it’s n-not that.”

“Okay,” says Alice. She smiles. “I told you that I identify as bisexual when we first met. I’ll be honest with you - it took me a while to figure out. To come to terms with my attraction to both men and women. For a while I identified as a lesbian, but when I learned more about myself I realized that wasn’t quite the right fit for me.” 

“Okay,” says Evan, nodding a bit. He tosses it around in his mind a bit. 

He’s spent a lot of time trying to convince himself he can’t be gay because he likes boobs. But Connor doesn’t have boobs and Evan definitely doesn’t want him to. 

Evan doesn’t feel like he’s missing out or anything. He likes Connor the way he is. Likes his sharp angles and high cheekbones and how he wraps himself around Evan in bed because he’s so long and tall. Likes the way he smells and his pale skin and his pretty eyes and his hair and his chest and shoulders and…

Evan feels his cheeks burn and tries not to think about his boyfriend’s dick in the middle of therapy. 

“Any chance you could just tell me if I’m gay or not?” Evan half-jokes. “It’s all… really fucking confusing.”

Alice laughs. “It’s not for me to say,” she says with a smile. “It’s not something I can decide for you. But it’s also not something you have to decide right now. And it’s not something that once you’ve decided is unchangeable. We learn more about ourselves every day. This is just another part of that discovery.” 

Connor picks Evan up from therapy. He’s got his hair tied up in a messy bun and Evan can see his long neck and sharp jaw and is once again hit with the realization that Connor is just the most beautiful person. 

“You doing okay?” Connor asks as he pulls out of the parking lot. “Want to get milkshakes or something?”

“Sounds good,” Evan says. He looks at Connor as he drives, admiring his shoulders and his neck and his jawline. Thinking about how he wants to kiss him, but also doesn’t want him to crash the fucking car. 

Connor is… so fucking beautiful. 

He’s strong and passionate and caring and wonderful and Evan trusts him. 

Trusts him more than anyone. 

He’s the only person Evan can imagine himself being with. The only person he wants to be with. 

His mind drifts back to his dream. Evan’s a teenage boy. That episode with the vampire version of Willow had clearly stuck in his subconscious. She’d looked hot in leather. 

Connor would look hot in leather, too. Just in a different way. 

Dreams are weird. So fucking weird. 

“A quarter for your thoughts,” Connor says after a while. 

Evan snaps back to reality. “A quarter?”

Connor shrugs. “Inflation.” He smiles. “Also, you’re super smart. Your thoughts are worth way more than a penny.”

“I love you,” says Evan with a smile. He takes a deep breath. “I’m thinking that you’re the only person I want to be with.”

Connor gives this small smile, but there’s worry behind his eyes. “I just… don’t want you to feel like you’re missing out,” he says after a moment. “Like there’s something I can’t give you.”

Evan shakes his head. “There’s nothing you can’t give me.”

Connor raises his eyebrows. “Your appreciation of Sabrina’s boobs would say otherwise.”

Evan’s cheeks burn. “Seriously, you _cannot_ tell her I think she’s got nice boobs.” Connor laughs a little, but he looks concerned. “I don’t love Sabrina,” Evan continues. “So her boobs, while nice to look at, aren’t something I’m missing out on.” 

Connor sighs. “You say that, but…”

“Can you pull over?” Evan asks. 

Connor raises his eyebrows, but does what he’s asked. Pulls over on the side of the road and looks at Evan, something apprehensive in his eyes. 

“I love you,” Evan says deliberately. “I love you, and I trust you, and I only want you. I feel _safe_ with you. And it took… time for me to figure it out. For us to get to where we are right now. And I only want you. Okay? Only you.”

“What if you… you meet someone else who’s… hotter than me,” Connor mumbles. “Or less of a fucking disaster?”

“I don’t _want_ anyone else,” Evan says firmly. “I don’t care if they have great boobs or a nice dick or anything like that. That doesn’t matter to me. I love _you._ You are the only person I have ever felt safe enough to be vulnerable with in… in that way, and I’m not interested in being with anyone else.” He blinks, feeling his chest ache. “You’re it for me. Okay? You’re… you’re it for me. I know we’re seventeen and we’re both kind of… stupid and reckless, but being with you isn’t either of those things. You’re all I want. The only person I can ever see myself loving. Okay?”

Connor blinks. His eyes are kind of glassy. Evan feels his heart sink. 

The last thing he wants is to make Connor cry. 

He’s about to apologize, but before he can get the words out, Connor’s lips are on his. Warm and soft and perfect, like they were the first time they kissed. 

Like every time they’ve kissed since. 

“I love you,” Connor says breathlessly as they break apart. “I only want you too, okay?”

“Glad we’re on the same page,” Evan jokes. He kisses Connor again. And again, and again, until they both seem to realize they’re parked on the side of the road, making out, and laugh a little at the realization. 

Connor drives them to the beach house and they go to sit on the loveseat on the porch. Evan rests his head on Connor’s chest and Connor wraps his arms around him. 

Evan can hear his heart. 

“Dreams are weird,” Connor says after a moment. 

“Dreams _are_ weird,” Evan agrees. He looks up at Connor. “You’d make a hot vampire, though.” 

Connor laughs. “I could totally be a vampire. If you want me to bite you…”

Evan can’t think of a good reply to that, so settles for kissing him again. 

* * *

Heidi had totally forgotten she’d requested vacation until her boss reassigns one of her court cases because it’s scheduled during the time off she'd already had approved. 

She requested it months ago, back during spring break when she’d been disappointed about not getting to spend Evan’s vacation time with him. Before Evan got hurt, before the hospital and the custody worries. Before all of it. 

But she’s got a week’s vacation approved and she’s determined not to let it go to waste. 

“So what do you want to do?” Heidi asks after she tells Evan later that day. “Vegas, like we talked about?” 

Evan rolls his eyes and laughs. “Maybe wait until I’m a-actually twenty-one for that,” he jokes. 

She has to admit, that makes her feel warm. The idea that Evan will still be with her when he’s twenty-one. 

Nothing’s set in stone yet, but the last time she talked to Evan’s social worker she’d been happy with Evan’s recovery. It’s looking like adoption might be back on the table in the next few months. 

Heidi wants nothing more than to make Evan officially her kid. 

“If you’re being a party pooper about Vegas,” Heidi says with an exaggerated eye roll, “then what else could we do?”

Evan looks thoughtful. After a moment, his face breaks into a tentative smile. “The Grand Canyon,” he says slowly. “You s-said you’d never seen it, either, so…”

Heidi beams at him. “Okay kid. Let’s go to the Grand Canyon.”

It doesn’t take too long to get things organized for the trip. Heidi looks up the driving route and it’s doable, but given that Evan’s still not a hundred percent she decides it would be better for him if they took a flight instead. There are plenty of hotels in the area and even though it’s peak holiday season, Heidi manages to find them something nice that’ll keep them comfortable during their stay while not being too over-the-top fancy that it’ll make Evan uneasy. 

She wants this to be a proper family vacation. 

She’s willing to bet that’s something Evan’s never had before. 

The biggest question mark over the whole trip is Connor. Ever since they both got out of the hospital, there’s barely been a moment where Evan and Connor aren’t together. They see each other every day. Most nights they sleep in the same bed. 

Heidi doesn’t have a problem with it. In all honesty, there’s a part of her that’s kind of glad that Connor’s there with Evan at night, making sure he’s okay. 

It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if Connor came with them on this trip to the Grand Canyon. Heidi doesn’t think she’d mind. 

But part of her wants it to be just her and Evan. 

Wants them to get a chance for it to be just the two of them. A chance to reconnect a little. 

After going back and forth over it in her head, Heidi decides that the best thing to do is talk to Larry and get his take on the idea. She gives him a call a few days later and he ends up coming over so they can chat in person. 

It’s not like he has to come far.

“My mom has been asking Connor to come visit her,” Larry tells Heidi once she’s finished explaining the situation. “What if we organized it so they were both away at the same time?”

“It’s definitely preferable to one of them just sitting around at home missing the other,” Heidi agrees. She nods. “That could work. That _would_ work.”

When they float the idea with Evan and Connor, both boys hesitate for a moment, but then agree. They both seem happy about the upcoming trips, but there’s this undercurrent of fear that neither Heidi nor Larry miss. 

The night before both trips, Evan and Connor stay in the pool house, and Larry comes over to Heidi’s place and sits with her in the lounge. They have a glass of scotch each and catch up.

It’s nice.

It’s starting to become familiar, in its own way. 

Having the opportunity to rekindle a real friendship with Larry is just one of the ways Heidi’s life has changed since she met Evan. 

“You think they’re going to be okay apart?” Larry asks after a while. He’s frowning, but only a little. Like he’s concerned, and a little apprehensive. 

It’s a far cry from how lost and terrified he was when he and Heidi first started speaking again. 

Looking back now, it’s funny that their first genuine conversation after David’s death was the two of them concluding that Evan and Connor might not be the best influence on each other after getting into a fight at the beach party after the fashion show. 

They’ve all come a long way since then. 

A long, long way. 

“They’ll be fine,” Heidi assures Larry. “We’re all going to be fine.”

* * *

“It’s going to be fine, right?” 

Evan kisses the side of Connor’s head and pulls him a little closer. 

“It’s going to be fine,” he assures him. “We can handle a week apart.” 

Connor hmms noncommittally, then kisses Evan’s neck. “Okay, but, consider this. What if we can’t? We’ve barely spent a night apart since, like, May.” 

“You can’t be in two places at once,” Evan reminds him. “I’m going to see the Grand Canyon with Heidi and you’re going to see your Granny. And your dad and my mom got the timing all lined up, which was pretty fucking considerate if you ask me.” He kisses him properly. “We can handle this.”

Evan can see Connor grinning in the dim light. This big, huge grin. 

“Your mom,” Connor says after a moment. “I just… I really like it when you call Heidi your mom.” 

Evan grins right back. “Me too.” 

“You deserve to have a mom,” Connor continues, something significant in his voice. “Someone who’s going to look after you and love you no matter what.” 

Evan feels his smile fade a little. 

He hears what Connor’s not saying. 

“So do you,” Evan says quietly. He bites his lip. “Is it… is it okay? She’s been okay since she’s been back?” 

“If by okay you mean sober,” Connor says, a little wearily, “then yeah. I haven’t caught her drinking or anything. Mostly we’re kind of… giving each other space.” 

Evan doesn’t know how to feel about that. Doesn’t know what to say. On one hand, it’s definitely good that Mrs. Murphy isn’t _doing_ anything awful, but it’s clearly bugging Connor that his mom is just, like, not engaging at all. 

This isn’t something Evan knows. Isn’t something he understands or has any real frame of reference for. It’s coming up a year since he first met Heidi and it’s not like things were easy straight away. He doesn’t really know what a normal mother/son relationship is supposed to be. 

But he knows what it feels like to be alone. To feel abandoned and unloved. 

He never wants Connor to feel like that. 

“I love you,” he tells him fiercely. “Okay? I love you. So much. And you’re gonna have the best time hanging out with your Granny and we’ll be together again before you know it.” 

Connor smiles. Evan can feel him relax a little. 

Evan kisses him, slow and soft. 

When they pull apart, Connor’s got this mischievous look in his eye. 

“Granny likes you, by the way. Even though you threatened to kick her ass.”

Wait, what? 

“When did I threaten to kick your Granny’s ass?”

“When you were in the hospital,” Connor explains. “You were pretty out of it.” He smiles fondly. “I don’t really know why, but Granny always calls us chickens, and you, like, took great offence to it. Told Granny that I’m brave and she shouldn’t call me a chicken and that you’d kick her ass.” 

Evan feels his cheeks burn. “Oh my god.”

“She thought it was funny.”

“Oh my god, that is… humiliating oh my god.”

Connor kisses him. “She liked that you defended me,” he tells him softly. “Likes that you’ll fight for me.” 

That’s not even a question. “Of course I will,” Evan tells him, looking Connor straight in the eye, trying to communicate how much he means it. “You’re… you’re my favorite person and I love you, of course I’ll fight for you.” 

Connor’s eyes are a little glassy, and he offers this watery smile. “You just like to fight,” he says, in this voice that sounds like it’s trying to be teasing but hasn’t quite got there. 

Evan shakes his head. “It’s not that,” he tells him gently. “Sure, there are plenty of people who deserve getting their asses kicked, but… there’s only one you.” He leans in and kisses him softly. “I’ll fight for you,” he tells him. “But I’ll stay out of trouble for you, too. Like… like when your letter went on the school website. I wanted to kick Jared’s ass so fucking badly but I didn’t, because you asked me not to.”

Connor kind of sighs. “In retrospect, he definitely needed his ass kicked.”

Evan nods. “Agreed,” he says. “But you needed me more.” He reaches out. Pushes Connor’s hair out of his face and kisses his cheek. “I just… I always want to protect you. To keep you safe and…” He blinks a few times. “I know that’s, like, weird or whatever and maybe I have this whole… saving people thing or whatever, but it’s not… it’s not that I think you’re pathetic or you need rescuing or… I just want to protect you.”

Connor nods. “I get it,” he says quietly. “I want to protect you, too.”

Evan feels this pang in his chest. Feels a sensation that’s like having his head punched, like his body is remembering and reliving what his dad did to him. 

What he let his dad do to him. 

Hell, what he basically _asked_ his dad to do to him. 

“You saved my life,” Evan reminds him. “You know that, right? You saved my life.”

Connor stares at him for a long moment. Intently. Like he’s trying to see through him. 

It takes a while before he speaks. 

“Of course I did,” Connor says. He frowns a little. His eyes are definitely glassy now, unshed tears threatening to spill. “Even though you didn’t want me to.”

Evan feels cold. 

He doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s trying to be more honest. 

“I didn’t,” he confesses. “Back in April, I didn’t.”

Connor is still looking at him intently. “And now?”

Evan kisses him. 

“I’m working on it,” he says honestly. “The… the thoughts? Don’t always… don’t always go away. But I have… I have so much, I…” He tries to find the words to express what he’s thinking but he just fucking can’t. 

He’s still afraid he’ll fuck everything up and hurt the people he loves. 

But he’s starting to understand that maybe Heidi and Connor are made of stronger stuff than he is. Maybe even if he does fuck everything up, they’ll still be there. 

“I love you,” Evan says after a moment. “I really love you.”

Obviously it’s not the magic bullet that fixes everything. That makes all the pain they both carry around go away. 

But it makes it a little easier to carry. 

And that’s something. 

* * *

Connor is a bit nervous about going to see Granny all on his own. But his dad seems to think it’s a good idea to do it before school starts back up, and things at home have been kind of tense since his mom got home so… 

Connor agrees to go. 

It’ll be nice to get out of California for a little while. 

Granny picks him up from the airport and Connor finds himself smiling stupidly when he sees she’s come inside to wait for him. Granny pulls him into a tight hug when he gets within hugging distance, and Connor sort of… he’s happy to see her. 

“How was the flight?” Granny asks him. 

“Good,” Connor says. He had just finished texting his dad and Evan both to let them know he’d landed safely. “How’ve you been?”

Granny smiles and starts talking animatedly about all of the work she and her friends at the church at the local domestic violence shelter. They walk to the car. 

Granny hands her keys over. “You drive us home,” she says happily. 

Connor stares. “What?”

“You ever gotten a speeding ticket?”

“No.”

“Gotten into an accident?”

Connor shakes his head. 

“Then you drive us home. I’m an old woman, chicken, I need a rest.”

Connor laughs. “Oh I see what this is,” he jokes. “I’m just going to be chauffeuring you around the whole time I’m here.”

“That’s the plan,” Granny says with a wicked smile. Connor rolls his eyes but he climbs into the driver’s seat and follows her directions to get back to her house. 

It’s weird, being back on the East Coast. The last time Connor visited his Granny without his parents or Zoe to accompany him, he’d brought M with him. Granny hadn’t seemed too impressed with Miguel. At the time, Connor sort of assumed it was some variety of old white person racism, but now he’s not totally sure. 

Still definitely a possibility. Connor’s just not sure how to bring it up without being like “Hey Granny, are you racist?”

“How’s your boyfriend?” Granny asks. “Heidi’s boy?”

“He’s good. He’s going to the Grand Canyon with Heidi this week. He’s never been before.”

Granny grins. “It’s good to see big things like that. Gives you perspective.” She tells Connor to take the next exit. He does. “I like that boy,” She says. “He’s tough. Scrappy.”

Connor smiles. He can’t disagree. Evan is both of those things. “He is.”

“And how’s having your mom back home?”

Connor sighs. “Weird. We’re kinda… not exactly talking?”

Granny “hmms.” “Well. I suppose that’s to be expected.” She sighs. “I’m surprised Lawrence didn’t ask her to move out after everything....”

Connor laughs, surprised. “Granny, you’re… Catholic? I thought divorce was a big no-no.”

“Oh the church could stand to get with the times,” Granny says. “The women at the shelter I’m volunteering for? They made vows in front of God and all, but their husbands starting smacking them around. Listen to me chicken, no God wants to see someone get hurt by someone they love. No promise is worth keeping if it means you or your family is being harmed.”

Connor nods. 

But…

Well. 

Some childish part of him really doesn’t want his parents to get divorced. Connor knows he loves his mom. 

He also knows it’s really hard to be around her right now. It’s really hard to even consider forgiving her for the shit she’s done. 

But if his parents break up, everything changes. 

He might not live next door to Evan anymore. He’d have to navigate holidays differently. 

And his mom seems to be _trying._ It’s. It’s not enough. Not yet. But maybe it could be. 

Connor thinks about Zoe. How she seems to forgive him for all the shit he did and said when he was high all of the time. 

How he’s forgiven _her_ for the same things. 

How their dad has forgiven both of them. Both of his fuck up kids who have hurt themselves and each other. 

Connor doesn’t know if it’s fair to forgive his sister but not his mom. 

He just doesn’t know. 

But part of him wants to be able to say he tried. 

He spends his week with his grandmother just kind of following her around like a lost puppy. She doesn’t seem to mind. They volunteer at the shelter - Connor reads stories to some little kids while Granny helps out with other things. They go bowling with Granny’s old lady friends and Connor’s bad at it but it’s not so bad. They go to a lot of bookstores. So many Connor worries that all of the books he got won’t fit in his bag to go home. 

“How come you asked me to come visit?” Connor asks Granny the night before he leaves to go home. They’re eating dinner at this place Granny says his dad loves growing up. Connor doesn’t much love seafood but he does at least _try_ some of the weird fishy options Granny orders them. 

Granny looks at him, her face thoughtful. “Well. To be honest, chicken, I thought you could probably use a break.”

Connor doesn’t understand. 

“You’ve had a lot on your plate,” Granny goes on. “And I know that takes a toll. I thought maybe you needed some time to… be a kid. Do normal young people stuff. Spend some time where someone takes care of _you,_ not the other way around.”

Connor blinks in surprise. “I’m not taking care of anybody,” he says stupidly. 

Granny levels a _look_ at him. “Sure you are. You’ve been checking in on your sister. Watching out for your mother. Getting lunches with Lawrence, which we know are more for him than you. And then there’s Evan…”

“I’m not taking care of him,” Connor insists, frustrated. “We just hang out.”

“You don’t think spending time with him is taking care of him? Not to mention… I know you’ve been together almost every day. Your dad says you taught him to swim. Went to school with him even though _you_ didn’t really need to do that. You spent your whole summer looking after him.”

Connor shrugs. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is, chicken. Seventeen year olds shouldn’t be expected to take care of everyone else all of the time. I guess I wanted you to come here so I knew someone was looking after _you._ ”

She doesn’t understand, Connor thinks. He’s barely done _anything._ And even if she’s right, well. 

He’s got a lot to make up for. He knows that. Connor knows he was… a monster. A selfish asshole for far too long. If he’s doing better now it’s only because he knows he owes them. He owes his family, owes Evan and Heidi. 

His whole life people let him get away with shit. He can’t just deny them the same slack he’s been afforded. 

But.

It _is_ nice not to have to worry about it right now. It feels weird and makes him feel kind of guilty but. It’s the truth. It hasn’t been super easy, worrying about everyone else all of the time. 

Granny smiles at Connor when they head back to her car, handing the keys over because she had a drink with their dinner. “Don’t forget now, chicken,” she says when they pull out of the parking lot. 

“Forget what?” Connor asks. 

“That you’re only young once. Don’t forget to let yourself be young.”

* * *

It’s not a long flight to the Grand Canyon. Just over an hour. 

Evan’s glad. If it had been only longer, he doesn’t think he’ll have managed it without throwing up. He hadn’t slept well the night before. Too many nerves about the trip. 

Too many nerves about being away from Connor for the first time since he got out of the hospital. 

Since then, they’ve barely spent a night apart. Most of the time they’re in the pool house, but sometimes they’re in Connor’s room. Evan has to admit, he prefers it when they’re in the pool house. It’s like their own little world. 

He’s going to miss Connor so fucking much. 

But it’s nice to be doing this with Heidi. Nice to be going somewhere and seeing something he never thought he’d get the chance to see. 

Before he met Heidi, he’d never left the state.

Just one of the many, many things Heidi has changed for him. 

“Okay honey,” says Heidi as they get in a cab to their hotel. “I think the plan is to get you some rest before we do anything else.”

Evan feels a wave of guilt wash over him. “It was only an hour long flight.”

Heidi looks at him challengingly. “Don’t bullshit me, kid. You look exhausted.”

Evan bites his lip. Nods. “Yeah,” he admits. “I… I guess I don’t fly well.”

Heidi sighs. “I know it’s hard,” she says cautiously, “but you need to be a little more patient with yourself, sweetheart. You’ve been through a lot. You’ve come a long way, but you’re still not at a hundred percent. So we’re just going to relax today and hit the canyon itself tomorrow, okay?”

Evan nods. Smiles at her a little cautiously. “I’m really looking forward to it. Seeing it in person.”

“Me too,” Heidi says with this big grin. “It’s so nearby and I’ve never seen it!” She slings an arm around his shoulder and hugs him. “And I’m glad I get to see it with you.”

“So am I,” Evan tells her. He means it. 

He’s never had this. 

Going on vacation with family. That’s never once happened to him, ever in his life. 

His mom couldn’t afford to go anywhere. He was never in a foster family long enough for there to be a trip. And Mark spent all his money on booze, there was never any talk about a vacation. It never once came up. 

This is… new. 

New and exciting and completely, completely wonderful. 

Evan’s grateful every fucking day that he met Heidi Herzberg. That the universe decided that she was going to be his public defender, and not someone else. 

Anyone else would have just written him off as a dumb kid who deserved what was coming to him. They sure as hell wouldn’t have taken him in when he had nowhere to go. 

Evan doesn’t know where he’d be if Heidi hadn’t taken him in, but he knows it wouldn’t have been anywhere good. 

His whole life changed course that day. 

Changed course for the better. 

When they get to the hotel, Evan ends up taking a nap almost immediately. He wakes up a few hours later absolutely ravenous and he and Heidi venture into the neighborhood where their hotel is to find something to eat. They end up stumbling across this tiny Italian restaurant which serves absolutely huge portions of pasta, bigger than Evan’s ever seen in his life. Heidi says she isn’t that hungry, so they end up sharing a dish that’s as delicious as it is huge. 

Once they’ve eaten, Heidi decides they need to walk off the carbs, and the two of them explore for a while. It’s kind of nice, just walking around. It gives them a chance to talk. To properly catch up and spend time together. 

He misses Connor, that much is true, but the only other person on the planet he wants to be spending time with like this is Heidi. 

She’s the best person. The very best. 

They talk about anything and everything. Heidi’s job. Summer school and senior year coming up. Places that David and Heidi went on vacation when they were first married. Stories from their childhoods. 

Somehow, it’s easier to remember the happy moments Evan had with his mom while he’s talking to Heidi. There’s something about her presence that reminds him of his mom. That same energy, but… different. 

Evan’s starting to realize that what’s different about Heidi is that he trusts her to keep him safe. 

He loved his mom. He still loves her with everything he has. But even as a child, he could tell that things were hard for her. That even though she tried and she tried and she tried, she wasn’t quite…

It’s not that she wasn’t enough. 

It’s not that. 

It was just that at the end of the day, she was still just a kid herself when she had him. 

She wasn’t done becoming who she was supposed to be yet. 

Evan’s spent so much of his life feeling guilty that he stole that from her. That he stole his mother’s life, her potential, her opportunities. He doesn’t think that’s ever going to go away. Not really. 

But if _he_ doesn’t use _his_ potential, _his_ opportunities…

Everything she missed out on means nothing.

Everything she gave up for him doesn’t count. 

Evan won’t do that to her. 

He’s going to make her proud. 

He’s going to make Heidi proud. 

He’s not going to waste this incredible chance he’s been given. The chance to be someone. The chance to make something of his life. 

There’s no way he’s going to waste it. 

The day they visit the Grand Canyon, the sky is a vibrant blue without a single cloud and the sun burns bright. 

Heidi and Evan have to wait in line for a bit, but it’s not as crowded as it could be. Evan’s not great with crowds and Heidi seems to realize that, because she keeps him talking. Keeps him distracted. Makes sure he’s doing okay. 

“Oh hey,” Heidi says, looking at the brochure, “look at this.” She shows him a picture of a huge glass bridge over the canyon that lets you look right through the floor to the ground. “What do you think? Want to do this Skywalk? It only just opened.”

Part of Evan wants to say no on principle but they keep reading up about it and it says that the Skywalk is strong enough to hold seventy fully loaded 747 passenger jets, which suggests that it isn’t going to break with people in it. 

“And if it did, they’d have one hell of a lawsuit on their hands,” Heidi adds. 

“Can’t sue someone if you’re dead,” Evan points out. 

Heidi goes a little pale, but smiles weakly. “Never underestimate the power of a pissed off lawyer ghost.”

They decide to go for it.

When they get onto the bridge and see the view, Evan’s glad they did. 

It’s the most fucking incredible thing he’s ever seen. 

Completely and utterly amazing. 

He looks out at the Grand Canyon for what feels like forever, just taking it all in. This huge, amazing, completely incredible thing that he never thought he’d get the chance to see. 

Evan never thought he’d see this. 

Never thought he’d see anything. Go anywhere. 

He never thought he’d be anyone. 

He looks out at the Grand Canyon and it’s like a whole universe of possibilities is waiting for him, spread as wide as the canyon itself. Wider, even. 

It’s the most incredible feeling. 

Heidi takes a million photos. Asks a nearby tourist to take photos of the two of them. 

Evan knows he’ll be keeping these photos. Getting them printed out and put in a frame and kept for a long long time. 

One day, he decides, he’ll come here with Connor. 

He’ll show Connor how amazing this is. 

But right now, he’s glad that he’s with Heidi. 

He’s grateful that he knows her. 

“Heidi?” he says quietly as the two of them look out at the Grand Canyon and the clear blue sky. 

“Hmm?”

“Thank you,” Evan says, putting as much weight and depth into those words as he can. “For everything. For all of it.” He looks right at her before he continues. “I love you.”

Heidi’s eyes are a little glassy. She slings an arm around his shoulder and pulls him close, kissing him on the forehead. “I love you too, kid. You have no idea how much.”

* * *

Connor wakes up with a start early. He knows it’s early because the light is watery and gray. Evan’s asleep next to him, his arm thrown around Connor’s middle. 

He’s there. He’s breathing. He’s fine. 

Connor’s felt a bit off since he got back from Granny’s. Disoriented. 

Connor glances around the pool house to try to figure out if there’s something that woke him up. 

Nothing he can see. But still his heart is beating too fast in his chest. 

Connor gently removes himself from Evan’s grasp. Slips out of bed. Heads to the bathroom, trying to figure out what the fuck is going on with him. 

Connor washes his face. Catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror…

His face looks different. Less… sunken these days. 

For some reason looking at himself right now though, Connor doesn’t see someone who looks healthier. He looks… gross. 

Maybe he can skip lunch today…

Connor shakes his head. No. He’s not going down that road. No. 

He walks out of the bathroom. 

Looks at Evan, still asleep, cuddled up against Connor’s pillow. 

Looks at the locked box where Evan keeps his emergency pain meds. He hasn’t really had to take them much lately, which is good. It’s great. 

Connor finds himself picking the box up. 

Trying a few combinations. Evan’s locker combo at school. 

Evan’s birthday. Heidi and David’s anniversary. 

Connor’s _own_ birthday. 

None of them work. 

What the fuck is he doing?

Connor ducks out of the pool house. Closes and locks the door behind him. 

It’s kind of chilly this morning. 

But Connor finds himself staring at the pool in front of him. He feels… wrong. Like his skin is too tight or. Something. Just wrong. 

No. He’s been doing better. He can’t keep doing this shit. 

He can’t be doing this shit. Seriously. 

He’s been doing better. Damn it. 

Evan’s gonna realize. He’s gonna realize Connor’s not _better._ That he’s still a danger to himself, to others. That he’s a mess. Just a huge mess. 

The sun still isn’t all the way up. 

And Connor finds himself yanking off his slightly sweaty t-shirt. His pajama shorts. 

He’s cold standing there in his boxers but Connor doesn’t hesitate. He dives into the deep end of Heidi’s pool. 

The cold is a shock to his system. It takes a lot not to gasp from it. But he resists because he’s underwater and if he gasps now his lungs will fill with water and he’ll drown. 

Maybe he _wants_ that. 

Connor surfaces. He’s shivering violently in the cold water. The air is almost biting against his skin. 

He takes a deep breath and dives again. 

Connor sits at the bottom of the pool. Opens his eyes and looks around in the semi-darkness. 

It’s basically silent under the water. His hair floats above his head. His skin is shockingly pale in the cold. 

But it’s calm here. 

Connor feels his heart starting to slow. He stays down as long as he can. In the cool calm darkness of the water. Trying to quiet the loud clanging of wrongness each thought brings. 

In a few weeks they’ll be back at school. 

What if things are as bad as last year? 

What if they’re _worse?_

What if it’s just the same endless uphill climb it’s always been? What he can’t do it? 

Evan’s counting on him. His dad is counting on him, Heidi too. And Sabrina and Alana and Zoe. 

Connor can’t keep doing this. What is fucking wrong with him? 

When his lungs burn from lack of oxygen, Connor kicks his way to the surface. Takes in big gasping gulps of air greedily, his body betraying the things his brain wants and hungrily keeping him going. 

He goes under again. Sits at the bottom of the pool, resisting the pull to float up to the surface. Holding his breath in the calm of the water, Connor thinks about how it would feel to just. Give up. 

Give up. 

He feels like he’s always fighting. 

And right now he’s terrified that there is no point in any of it. Why does he keep fighting? Why bother when he’s just going to keep waking up in ill fitting skin and a racing heart, scared of himself, scared for the people he loves, a siren blaring in his chest that he’s wrong. He’s wrong. He’s wrong and bad and doesn’t belong. 

Connor surfaces again. Gulps air and sinks below the surface again. Lets the water have him. 

He dreamed of being high. Of being fifteen. Fresh off of an attempt on his life and angrier than he’s ever been because they wouldn’t just let him die. 

And Zoe was sitting at the kitchen table at dinner. Looking at her food and then at their mom, slowly drinking a glass of wine, and then their dad who was checking his phone. 

“Are we just… not going to talk about it?” Zoe had said. She looked _scared._

“About what, sweetie?” Their mom said. 

“Connor’s _high,_ ” Zoe said softly. “He-he almost died because he was taking drugs and now he’s high again and we’re all pretending that’s okay?”

Connor remembered setting his fork down slowly. 

Their parents exchanged a look of unease. 

And Connor. 

Picked his plate up and hurled it at his sister. Screamed at her to shut her fucking mouth. Bits of food scattered everywhere when the plate crashed into the floor by her chair and burst into a hundred shards of $200 china. 

“I’m worried about you!” Zoe shouted, fourteen with a shaky voice. “Aren’t you guys worried?”

“Shut your fucking mouth you _stupid cunt-”_

Zoe’s lower lip trembled. She got to her feet, stepping over the ruin of Connor’s dinner plate, and Connor shoved his chair back so viciously it toppled and then Zoe took off running up the stairs, leaving a trail of smeared bloody footprints because she cut her foot on the broken plate. 

Connor chased her up the stairs. How dare she how dare she how dare she she didn’t know she didn’t know what it was _like -_

She slammed the door and locked it but at the moment it felt hardly like an obstacle. It was just one more thing Connor would need to break. “I’ll fucking _kill you_ you stupid bitch you fucking _cunt_ I’ll kill you-”

He started to ram the door with his bony shoulder, not caring as his shoulder exploded in pain, as the wood began to crack under the force he exerted. 

And then Connor was practically flying down the hall. His dad had grabbed him by the collar and almost threw him away from Zoe’s door. Connor landed hard, the wind knocked out of him. His dad was screaming and screaming but Connor couldn’t hear because he was lightheaded and unreal because this was who he was. This was the core of him. A monster. Someone who can only destroy. 

He took off. 

His lungs burned as he ran away. 

His lungs are burning now. He needs to come up for air. He’s lightheaded. He needs to come up for air. 

But. 

He remembers how it felt to throw that plate at his sister. 

How it felt to stomp on Mark’s hand, feel satisfied by the crunch of his bones breaking. He found out later he’d shattered Mark’s pinky.

He thinks about the teeth he knocked out of Jared Kleinman’s face and the blood that flowed from his nose. 

He thinks about hitting Brian and Chad. 

Thinks about taking the pills in his bedroom. Twice. 

He wanted to stop hurting. Himself. Everyone else. 

Connor needs air but he doesn’t _want_ it. 

Air will just keep him going. Keep him fighting. 

He’s so tired of fighting. He doesn’t deserve the ability. Air will just keep him hurting. Himself. Other people. He’s just always going to be hurting. 

But survival brings Connor to the surface even as he tries to give up and stop fighting. 

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Connor startles. Turns to see Evan standing there with his arms wrapped around his middle, his eyes big and scared. 

“Swimming?” Connor ventures. 

“At five in the morning?”

Connor shrugs awkwardly. 

He can’t exactly explain. 

He just. Needed. Something. He needed to see if he could do it. 

He’s a monster. A monster. He doesn’t deserve this chance he’s been given. 

“You need to get out of-of the pool.”

Connor shakes his head. “I’m fine.”

“Come here. Please?”

Connor swims over to the ladder and climbs out. He regrets it. It’s freezing in the cool predawn air. Connor shivers violently. 

Evan grabs Connor immediately, apparently not caring that he’s dripping wet and only in his underwear. 

“You can’t,” he says softly, before his lips crash into Connor’s. Evan grabs him tightly, his limbs clinging and grabbing. “You can’t go away… y-y-you _can’t._ ”

“I wasn’t-”

Evan kisses him again, more fiercely, and Connor realizes he’s not the only one shaking. “No, okay. No. You can’t leave. You _can’t_ Connor. I love you and-and-and I n-need you alive. I need you here. Please.”

“I wasn’t, I swear,” he lies. Badly. 

“Don’t lie.”

Connor shivers. “What if I can’t?” He finds himself whispering. “What if I fuck up everything? What if I just keep fucking up everything forever? What if I keep hanging on and people just keep getting hurt?”

Evan shakes his head. “No. You won’t. You _don’t_ hurt people. You h-have to stay. Please. I love you.”

“But I’m a monster-”

“No.”

“I’m no better than Mark, I just hurt people…”

“ _No_. You don’t. That’s not true.” 

“I broke his fingers,” Connor says. “I knocked out some of Jared’s teeth. I wanted to kill my sister when she was fourteen. And I almost got you killed-”

Evan grabs on tighter. “You can’t just leave.”

Connor kisses Evan. “I won’t,” he says softly. “I’m not… I wasn’t… I just… I just thought for a minute? Just for a minute that…”

“No,” Evan says, shaking his head. “You _can’t._ Not even for a minute _.”_

Connor breathes shakily, pulling Evan in close. “Okay. Okay. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m not going anywhere. I love you.” He doesn’t know what else to say. 

Evan sniffs. “What do you need?”

Connor sighs. “A towel?”

Evan doesn’t laugh at his stupid joke. He just grabs on tighter, kisses Connor again. Hard. Desperately. “I won’t let you. I won’t let you go.”

“Okay,” Connor says. 

And then Evan’s practically dragging Connor back inside. Connor’s still shivering. 

Evan keeps kissing him. Basically pulls him onto the bed, wrapping himself around Connor who is shaking even harder in the air conditioned room. “I can’t lose you. I can’t,” he whispers. 

“Okay. Okay. I’m sorry.”

Evan keeps kissing him, holding on tightly. “What do you need?” He asks softly. 

“What if it never gets better?” Connor shivers out, clinging to Evan. “What if I’m just like this?”

Evan shakes his head, his arms still so tight around Connor. “No. No. You’re not. This isn’t you. It’s not who you are. It’s just a thing you’re dealing with. And I won’t let it take you. Okay?”

Connor kisses Evan softly. Looks him in the eye. “I won’t let it take you either. Okay?”

Evan looks surprised. But he kisses Connor and holds him tighter and says okay. 

Okay. Okay okay. 

“I love you. I won’t let you go.”

“Me either,” Evan whispers. 

The kisses don’t lose their frantic quality. Both of them are shaking hard as Evan discards the damp pajamas he’s wearing. He pulls the covers up over them and touches Connor like he’s got something to prove. Connor touches him back, like he’s a drowning man and doing this is the only life raft in sight. 

“I love you,” Evan says fiercely. “Listen to me, I’m serious. I love you. You’re wonderful. I won’t let you go away. Okay? I’ll help you fight it…”

Connor nods vaguely, barely hanging on, overwhelmed. He didn’t expect… this. 

He didn’t expect someone who would refuse to let him go. He assumed… that everyone in his life was so tired of white knuckling things with him. That eventually all of their grips would grow exhausted and he’d slip out of their grasp. 

But Evan’s just holding on tighter. 

Showing Connor he loves him. Promising him things that are probably insane at seventeen but Connor doesn’t care. 

He’s never had this. And it’s everything. 

It’s everything. 

They hold each other tightly when it’s over. So tightly Connor wonders distantly if they’ll be speckled black and blue tomorrow. He doesn’t care. He’ll stay like this forever. 

“What if you get tired of me? Of my shit?”

“I won’t.”

“But what if…”

“No,” Evan says firmly. “I love you. I won’t.”

Connor sighs. Rests his head on Evan’s shoulder. “What if this is all… too good to be true? What if it falls apart?”

Evan sighs. Kisses Connor’s head. “Then we’ll… put it back together.”

And they stay like that until the sun is up and Connor’s stopped shivering and then exhaustion takes over and Connor finds himself slipping off to sleep, held tight in Evan’s arms. 

* * *

Eventually Connor drifts off to sleep. 

Evan doesn’t. 

He just holds onto Connor tighter. Holds him as tight as he can, like he’s afraid that if he lets go, Connor will disappear. 

Evan wouldn’t take it if Connor disappeared on him. He just wouldn’t take it. 

If anything happened to Connor, Evan would just…

Walk into the ocean with his pockets full of rocks. Walk into traffic. 

Climb the highest tree he can find, all the way to the top, then let go. 

He wouldn’t be able to take it if he lost Connor. He just wouldn’t. 

Evan holds onto Connor, listening to him breathing, and feels his own heart racing painfully fast. It’s like there’s a black hole of terror inside him at the idea of losing Connor and it’s eating him alive. 

Is this how Connor felt when he found Evan in that alleyway?

Fuck. 

Fuck. He never wants Connor to feel this. 

Never wants him to hurt like this. 

Evan presses a kiss to Connor’s still-damp hair and feels him sigh against him a little, his mouth pressed against Evan’s neck. 

He can feel Connor breathing. 

Evan focuses on that. Focuses on the way Connor’s breath feels against his skin. 

And his heart starts to slow down a little. 

The black hole of terror inside him starts to close up. 

And as the terror and the horror and the fear starts to fade, something else wells up inside him. He doesn’t know if it’s certainty or conviction but he knows it, he knows deep in his bones that he is going to do everything in his power to keep Connor safe. 

It’s Evan’s fault Connor overdosed. 

He’s not stupid. He knows it’s his fault. 

Knows it wouldn’t have happened if Evan had just kept his shit together. 

Zoe thinks it’s her fault, Evan knows. Thinks it’s her fault because they were her drugs. But Evan knows better. 

If there hadn’t been drugs in the house, Connor would have figured out another way. Evan knows Connor. He’s fucking resourceful. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, he scares the shit out of Evan sometimes. It scares Evan so much, knowing how fucking good Connor is at hurting himself. It makes Evan want to follow him everywhere, want to never leave him, want to see him every second of every day so he knows for a fact that he’s alive and safe and unharmed. 

Evan thinks back to his conversation with Zoe on a night neither of them could sleep. Thinks back to Zoe telling him that she can pick Connor’s lock if she needs to. That if Connor tries to hurt himself, she’d come running. 

It untwists something inside Evan, the realization that there are other people who care about Connor. 

Other people who don’t want him to disappear. 

Connor has Evan. He has his dad. He has Zoe and he has Heidi. 

And even though Evan’s still not sure he trusts her… Connor has his mom. 

Connor’s going to be okay. 

He’s going to be okay. Evan’s going to make sure of it. 

What happened when Evan was in the hospital...

Never again. 

He’s never letting that happen again. Evan’s going to do everything he can to be good for Connor. To be someone who helps him be better, helps him be well and safe and happy. Not someone who hurts him. Who makes him hurt himself. 

Connor says that he hurts people. That people get hurt because of him. 

And yeah, Evan knows Connor isn’t perfect. Knows he’s done some stuff he isn’t proud of. But when it all boils down to it…

The person Connor’s hurt the most is himself. 

Every time. 

Every damn time. 

No more, Evan promises. He’s not going to let Connor hurt himself. He’s going to keep Connor safe. Going to be someone who’s good for him. 

All he wants is to be good for Connor.

Evan presses another kiss to Connor’s hair and pulls him even closer. Connor shifts a little in his sleep. Buries his face a little deeper into the crook of Evan’s neck. Evan draws gentle circles on Connor’s back, reveling in the feeling of his warm skin. His beating heart. 

“I love you,” he whispers quietly. “I’m going to keep you safe. I promise that I’m going to keep you safe. I love you.”

Evan doesn’t sleep, exactly, but he drifts. He drifts, and the light in the pool house changes. Jumps from grey to light like it’s happened in a second. 

It’s light when Connor stirs. 

He kisses Evan’s neck, making him shiver slightly. 

“Hey,” Connor murmurs, his voice thick with sleep and… something that might be shame. 

“I love you,” Evan tells him. 

Connor raises his head. Looks at Evan with big, guilty eyes. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “Fuck, I’m sorry about last night, I-”

“I love you,” Evan interrupts firmly. “It’s okay. I’ve got you, okay?”

Connor blinks. Puts his head back on Evan’s chest. 

Buries his face in Evan’s neck and kisses him again. 

Evan closes his eyes. 

And he’s finally able to sleep. 

* * *

The end of the summer slips by very quickly. It feels like one minute summer school is ending and the next, Connor and Zoe are trooping off to the mall with money to buy new clothes for school. 

Every back to school ad Connor sees on TV and hears on the radio fills him with a new kind of dread about the coming year. 

What if it’s worse? 

Is it possible that things could get _worse?_

Zoe dyes her hair pink the week before school goes back and helps Alana to protest the annual fashion show. None of their parents attend. Zoe and their mom fight about her hair but then they both seem to get over it. 

After the fashion show they have a bonfire at Alana’s beach house and toast marshmallows as a fuck you to eating disorders and the fashion industry and that night Connor admits to Evan that he’s outgrown a few pairs of his jeans… and not because he’s too tall. Evan kisses him and kisses him and says how _proud_ he is. 

Still all of the good things happening don’t do much to squash the intense fear that is building inside of Connor. He’s going to be a senior. That means applying to college and he’s lost and unsure what he’s going to do. He took the SATs when he was at Hanover but he decides he’ll retake it come fall to try and boost his scores. He wants to be able to go wherever Evan is. 

And Evan has big hopes now that he’s letting himself have them. Harvard and Yale sorts of hopes. 

And that makes Connor nervous too. He feels like everything good is just. Moments away from being snatched out of his hands. 

Cory says that’s not unusual for someone who has experienced trauma. 

Connor doesn’t know if he buys it. 

He’s nervous. 

So nervous that when he wakes up on the first day of school he’s immediately consumed with this certainty that he absolutely cannot go. This is only made worse by the fact that as he looks around his bedroom, Connor realizes his eye’s twitching. 

Fuck. 

He just can’t imagine being able to get through the day. 

He finds himself saying this to his mom at the breakfast table. He goes to her because she feels so guilty about everything that Connor thinks he has a better chance of getting his way. His eye twitches violently the whole time he’s trying to wheedle his way into staying home. “I’ll go tomorrow,” he hears himself pleading. 

“It’s your senior year, Connor, you’re not missing the first day,” His mom says exasperatedly. 

“I already said I’d go tomorrow,” Connor says stupidly. 

His dad glances at him. “Connor? What’s going on bud?”

Connor shakes his head. His eye keeps twitching at weird intervals and he knows he looks like a freak because Zoe’s looking at him strangely. “I can’t do this. I can’t go.”

His dad gets up from the table, leads Connor into the living room and sits next to him on the sofa. “It’s just school, bud,” he says heavily. 

Connor doesn’t know how to explain that it’s not _just_ anything. 

It’s everything. 

He could mess up everything. Sure Jared’s gone and Evan will be back with him. Sure he’s got people to sit with at lunch and someone to suffer through calculus with, but what if he still can’t hack it? 

“I can’t do this,” Connor tries to explain, his eye still twitching and his palms damp with nervous sweat. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“You can,” his dad says. “You’re going to be okay. It’s totally normal to be nervous. But I know you can do this. You’re so strong. You’re going to do just fine.”

Connor swallows hard. Nods. 

Tries to locate some balls so he can stop being such a fucking baby and just go to school. All he finds are more eye twitches and nervous hands. 

He meets Evan outside of Heidi’s house. He’s in new clothes and he’s smiling. 

“You good?” Evan says to him, leaning over and kissing his cheek. 

“Already managed to fit in my first total freak out of the year,” Connor mutters. 

Evan gives him a sympathetic smile. “You’re going to be okay.” He reaches out and grabs Connor’s iPod. “Come on. We’re supposed to meet everyone in ten.” Evan puts on “Thriller” by Fall Out Boy. 

Connor nods. Smiles. “I love you.”

Evan smiles back. “I love you too.” He squeezes Connor’s hand. “Besides. If anyone gives you shit, I’ll just punch them.”

“ _No._ You will not.”

“Come on. It can be my first day of school tradition.”

“I hate you,” Connor says with a laugh, feeling a little bit lighter. 

“Love you too.”

* * *

Connor holds Evan’s hand as he drives. Evan knows that it’s not exactly the safest thing for a driver, but he’s not going to argue about it because he’ll basically take any chance to hold Connor’s hand. 

And in all honesty, Evan could do with the comfort it brings as well. 

He’s nervous, too. Nervous about going back to school. Nervous about a new year, but in a different way to how he felt when he first arrived at Harbor. 

He’s got Connor. 

He’ll be with Connor. He’ll walk through those doors with Connor, and between the two of them they’ll handle anything this fucking high school has to handle them. 

If anyone tries to mess with Connor, Evan won’t hesitate to defend him.

In all honesty, Evan doesn’t think anyone will dare to mess with him or Connor this year. While Evan wasn’t exactly focused on making friends at summer school, Tommy Whittington basically hung around him all the time and between Tommy and the other people who bothered to talk to him, he’s gathered that he’s got a reputation at Harbor as someone that you do not fuck with. 

“You put Brian in the hospital,” Tommy had pointed out near the end of summer school. “And he’s, like, a big dude. He and Chad are, like, kind of scared of you now.”

If Brian and Chad are scared of Evan, it should keep the rest of the neanderthals in line and make senior year a whole lot less terrifying. 

Connor pulls into the Starbucks parking lot, parks his car and looks at Evan for a moment, then laughs a little. 

Evan laughs back. “What?”

Connor shakes his head, still smiling. “If you’d told me last year that this is what I’d be doing on my first year of senior year, I’d have called bullshit.”

Evan gets it. He really gets it. 

He doesn’t know what to say, so he just squeezes Connor’s hand. 

They get out of the car and head inside to find that Alana’s already got a table. There are binders and books and paper out all over it, along with an empty mug of coffee. Connor rolls his eyes. 

“School hasn’t even started yet,” Evan says to Alana. “There’s no way you have homework.”

“I’m getting a head start,” Alana tells him, but she closes one of the binders and puts down her pen. “There’s a lot I intend to accomplish this semester and if I’m going to get everything done, I’ll need a solid plan.”

“What you need,” Connor says pointedly, “are friends who will tell you when you’re pushing yourself too hard.” With that, he starts stacking the books into a single pile. “Put these away, come on.”

Alana looks a little irritated, but only a little. She looks at Evan with this small smile on her face. “Is he going to be like this all year?”

“Probably,” Evan says with a nod. 

Connor just grins. He points to Alana’s coffee cup. “What’s your poison?”

“White chocolate mocha,” she says after a moment. “Don’t judge.”

Connor shrugs. “No judgement here,” he tells her. “That shit’s delicious.” He kisses Evan on the cheek. “I’m going to get drinks,” he announces, then heads off. 

Evan takes a seat at the table and looks pointedly at Alana’s stack of books. She frowns, then sighs and puts them in her bag. 

“You looking forward to the first day?” Alana asks once her books are packed up. “I guess it’ll be strange being back after so long, even though you did have summer school.”

Evan nods. “Summer school was… different,” he admits. “Quieter. But I did miss school? When I was recovering.” He smiles a little bashfully. “And I’m looking forward to a challenge. Summer school was pretty easy.”

“Of course it was,” Alana says immediately. “You’re extremely intelligent, it wouldn’t have been difficult for you at all.” She opens the one book she’s still got on the table, which looks like it’s a day planner. “What AP classes are you taking?”

He and Alana talk about AP classes for a while until Connor’s back with Zoe and Sabrina in tow. Between the three of them, they’re carrying a drink for everyone. There’s a bit of shuffling around to get everyone seated, but soon they’re all around the table and Connor’s sitting next to Evan. 

Connor puts a plate in front of Evan with a flourish. There’s a cinnamon roll on it. 

“For luck,” Connor says, his cheeks coloring a little. “If we’re lucky, you won’t have to punch anyone.”

“Let me do the punching,” Sabrina offers with a smirk. “I’ve been working out.”

Evan looks at her bare arms and notices that there’s some definite muscle definition there. He also notices Zoe noticing, because Zoe’s cheeks are pink and she’s biting her lip and looking at Sabrina like she wants to devour her whole. Ever since Sabrina got back from vacation, she and Zoe have been all over each other. Then again, Evan and Connor don’t really have a leg to stand on as they’re probably just as bad, if not worse. 

“If someone really deserves a punch, then good luck to them,” Alana says with this little smile on her face. “Although obviously I don’t condone violence.” 

“Duly noted,” Sabrina replies with a grin. 

Evan notices a knife on the side of the cinnamon roll. He cuts the roll in half, picks up one half then offers the plate to Connor. 

Who picks up the other half of the cinnamon roll and takes a bite. 

Evan feels… warm. And hopeful. 

Hopeful that maybe they’re actually going to be okay this year. 

He leans over to kiss Connor on the cheek, but Connor turns at the last minute so that Evan ends up kissing him properly on the lips. 

Evan finds himself laughing. 

“What?” Connor asks, laughing a little himself. 

“You taste like sugar,” Evan says with a smile. “I like it.”

Connor kisses him properly, like he means it. Evan responds immediately and they kiss until Zoe throws a napkin at them.

“Gross,” Zoe says good-naturedly. “You guys are so gross.”

* * *

“You’re gross,” Connor says with a grin at his dumb ass little sister. She rolls her eyes and then looks at her phone. 

“We should probably get going,” Zoe announces. “Gotta get there early if we want to find a decent parking spot.” 

Everyone nods in agreement. 

Evan looks at Connor tentatively as they head back to Connor’s car. Connor realizes his eye has finally stopped twitching, which is probably a good sign. 

It’s just school, Connor tells himself. 

He can go to fucking school. 

He and Evan reach his car and Evan takes Connor’s hand. “It’s gonna be okay. Y-you know that, right?”

Connor smiles weakly. “Yeah, I know, I’m being a dumbass…”

Evan rolls his eyes, ignoring him. “We’ve got a couple minutes before we r-really need to go.”

Connor’s not following. He tilts his head, looking at Evan, trying to work out what he’s suggesting. 

And then he realizes. Evan’s fished a pack of cigarettes out of his backpack. He puts one between his lips and then passes the pack off to Connor. Connor finds his lighter in his jeans pocket and lights for Evan. Evan holds his cigarette out to Connor, and Connor lights his cigarette off of it. 

They both exhale smoke slowly. 

Connor finds himself grinning stupidly at Evan. 

He looks different than how he did when they first did this. When they first met. When Connor bummed a smoke off of a kid he didn’t know. 

A kid he didn’t realize was going to totally change his life. 

“So,” Evan says conversationally. “We’ve got APUSH together.”

Connor nods, taking a drag of his smoke. “I heard the teacher’s new. Hope he’s not a total prick.”

Evan rolls his eyes. “I’m starting to think you _try_ to get a lot of detentions.”

Connor laughs. “Gotta uphold my reputation. Can’t have people thinking that I’m, like, a good guy or whatever.”

Evan’s face turns serious. “You are though,” He says. “You’re the best guy.”

Connor wants to open his mouth to retort, tell him to fuck right off with that sappy bullshit.

But instead he just lets it stand. 

They finish their cigarettes and climb into Connor’s car. Connor pulls out onto the main road and heads toward school. “Last chance to ditch and go to the beach,” He says when they reach the first stoplight. 

“Dude,” Evan says, rolling his eyes. “It’s gonna be fine. I’ve got your back. You know that, right?”

Connor feels a smile tugging at his lips. “I do. I know.”

And the thing is that he does. He knows. He’s known it since the first time they met. 

And that… 

Means everything. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "Thriller" by Fall Out Boy.


	61. Epilogue: I’m Addicted To The Way I Feel When I Think Of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Connor’s eighteenth birthday (and Zoe's seventeenth birthday too).

Senior year isn’t what Evan expected. 

Not that he really knows what he was expecting, exactly. He can’t really pinpoint what he  _ thought  _ was going to happen this year. It’s just…

Well. 

He’d been preparing himself for it to be a challenge. A struggle, like it was last year. 

He’d been preparing for a fight. 

Evan’s always preparing for a fight. 

Alice says it makes sense. He’s had a lot to deal with in his young life. The fact that he feels like he always needs to be ready to defend himself, ready to go on the offense makes sense. Most of his life, he’s had to. 

But so far, senior year has been… 

Good. 

Calm. 

Uneventful. 

Normal, even. Whatever that is.

School is actually kind of fun these days, even though it’s busy as hell with college applications and a heavy AP course load. Connor and Sabrina are both in Evan’s APUSH class, which Evan will never admit is his favorite class simply because Connor is constantly, constantly getting into intense arguments about slavery with Mr. Laycock, a new teacher who seems utterly incapable of handling having his authority challenged. 

The number of detentions Connor’s had already is almost impressive. 

Despite Connor’s detentions and the heavy course load, Connor and Evan still manage to find time alone. Evan’s back in his own room now, and when Connor stays over, he actually sleeps properly, which means that Evan worries less, and Evan being less worried and Connor being less sleep-deprived means that…

Well. 

Connor’s been clear from the beginning that the ball is in Evan’s court when it comes to sex. That Connor’s never going to push, that he’s never going to make Evan feel like he has to do anything he doesn’t want to do. There’s a part of Evan that feels like that’s too good to be true, because he knows that Connor’s had sex. That it’s something that Connor likes. 

Evan likes making Connor feel good, likes seeing him let go, likes knowing that he’s the one who’s made him feel like that. He likes touching him. Likes blowing him, even if he’s still secretly worried that he’s not, like, good at it. 

More and more, Evan finds his mind drifting late at night to how it would feel to…

To have sex with Connor. Like, real sex. 

Maybe a week after school starts, Connor’s sleeping at his own house. Evan goes to brush his teeth in the bathroom attached to his room and realizes he’s out of toothpaste. He checks the cupboard under the sink to find a spare tube of toothpaste. 

He also finds a box of condoms and a bottle of lube. 

They definitely weren’t there the last time he checked. 

He feels his face go bright red. It’s embarrassing as hell that his mom went out and bought supplies so he could have safe sex, fucking hell. 

His mom bought condoms and lube. 

That’s…

Great. Now Evan’s having emotions about the fact that he has a mom who’ll do shit that embarrasses him because she wants him to be safe. He’s having emotions about the fact that Heidi chose to be his mom, that she’ll do the things that are awkward and weird because she cares. 

She genuinely cares. 

It takes him a few days, but Evan works up the courage to talk to her over dinner. He has no idea how you even start this conversation, really, but blurts out something about finding the condoms and feels his ears and cheeks go bright red as Heidi raises her eyebrows. 

“Well, I’m glad you found them,” Heidi says matter-of-factly. “It makes me feel better knowing that you know where they are.”

Evan’s cheeks burn even more. “Connor and I aren’t…” He swallows. Hard. “Not yet, anyway.”

Heidi nods. Looks at him, her expression calm and open. “Not yet?” she repeats. 

“I want to,” Evan blurts out. “I really, really want to. With him. I just…” He looks at the table. It’s easier if he’s not looking her in the face. “I d-don’t want to be, like… bad at it? I’ve n-never… I don’t w-want to be bad at it.”

Heidi’s quiet for a moment. “You and Connor have been through a lot together,” she says finally. “You’re honest with each other. You talk to each other. I think that if you talk to each other about this, it’s going to be okay.” Evan looks up, and Heidi’s smiling, her expression kind. “Honestly? Most of being good at sex is just… listening to your partner. Figuring out what works for them. And you and Connor listen to each other. That much I’m sure of.”

Evan’s face is still hot. “You’re not g-going to, like, g-give me some kind of… s-safe sex lecture?” he jokes weakly. 

Heidi laughs. “Larry told me he talked to Connor,” she says with a huge grin. “So I’m pretty sure you’ve got it covered.” Her smile smoothes out into something fond but serious. “Sweetheart, as long as you trust each other… it’s going to be fine. And you’re allowed to be nervous or feel weird about it. Sex is weird, that’s just… how it is. But if you both want it and you’re willing to work together, it won’t be bad. You won’t be bad at it.”

Evan thinks about that a lot. Mulls it over in his brain. 

Spends a lot of time just… trying to process it all. Where he is when it comes to sex. 

Sex with Connor. 

The first time they hooked up, the night before Evan got on a bus back to Chino and nearly got himself killed, Evan hadn’t thought it through. Hadn’t planned ahead. He’d just realized his feelings and reacted on instinct. Kept going on instinct, letting himself get lost in how it felt, in that desperate need to feel connected to Connor. 

He remembers every moment of that night, in spite of what happened next. 

Given how weird he knows he is about sex, how many hang-ups he has about it, it seems strange looking back that it all felt so easy. 

Evan knows that it felt easy because he trusts Connor. 

He’s always trusted Connor.

And even that first night, Connor checked in with him. The whole time. Asked him if things were okay. Told him they could stop any time if he wanted to. That they didn’t have to do anything. 

Evan knows, somewhere deep in his gut, that if something happened and he couldn’t go through with having sex, Connor wouldn’t hate him for it. 

He’d be patient. 

He’d understand. 

And that…

That makes it so much less scary.

The next time Connor stays over, Evan almost asks him right then and there. It’s right on the tip of his tongue to just tell him he’s ready. Connor is beautiful and kind and wonderful and he makes Evan feel safe and loved and he wants him so much. 

It’s making Evan a little crazy, how much he wants Connor. 

Connor has been kind and wonderful and unfailingly patient with Evan. 

He deserves the world. 

He deserves to know how much Evan loves him. How much he cares. 

From previous conversations, Evan knows that sex for Connor hasn’t always been great. That he’s had sex he regrets. That he hasn’t always been safe. Hasn’t always been in love. 

An idea starts to form in Evan’s head. It’s cheesy and maybe it’s stupid and too much, but he just wants Connor to know how much he means to him. 

Wants to make this good for him. 

Wants to be someone who’s good for Connor. 

He’s going to make this special, he decides. 

Because Connor deserves everything. 

* * *

Connor doesn’t technically turn 18 until tomorrow, but that hasn’t stopped Evan from making a huge fucking deal out of it. 

Connor is a bit overwhelmed. He spends all day Saturday with Evan. They have a miniature party on the beach with Zoe, Alana, and Sabrina. There’s a bonfire and s’mores. Some weed but Connor doesn’t smoke a lot. He wants to be present for this. 

“It’s really weird that you two have the same birthday,” Alana says matter-of-factly. “Like statistically it’s very unusual.”

Connor and Zoe both shrug. They didn’t decide it. “She’s always stealing my thunder,” Connor says. 

“Or our parents just like boning at the same time every year,” Zoe quips. 

Connor shudders. “Gross. When would that be so we can stay away from them?” 

Their parents are working on reconciling. It’s weird. They’re still sleeping in separate rooms, but Connor has caught them holding hands over breakfast a few times. It’s weird. 

His mom being home is still kind of weird. 

“Well gestation is 40 weeks,” Alana says. She’s counting backward. “Likely you were both conceived in November.”

“Eww,” Zoe says. “How the hell was mom’s stuff even ready to go by then?”

Connor wrinkles his nose. “I mean, she had a c-section? So her stuff probably wasn’t too impacted.”

Evan laughs at Zoe’s grossed out face. 

Connor keeps giving her hell. “I just don’t understand how they had the energy to bone down. I’ve heard horror stories about me as a baby.”

“Gross, stop.”

“Do you think that means mom was pregnant with you at Heidi and David’s wedding?” Connor says. 

Zoe claps her hands over her ears. “Not having this conversation. As far as I’m concerned, I was brought by a stork.”

Connor leans his head on Evan’s shoulder. “I’m never letting this go.”

Evan shoves him playfully. 

Connor loves him so fucking much. 

When it hits midnight, Sabrina and Alana and Evan all sing “happy birthday” to Connor and Zoe. They all stick around the bonfire for a bit, but folks are tired and so they call it a night by one. Connor hugs Zoe and says, “Happy birthday, bitch.”

She returns, “Happy birthday, asshole.”

She and Sabrina head back to Sabrina’s car with Alana. 

And then it’s just Evan and Connor. 

Evan smiles at him. “Well. Hopefully this means this year your birthday will be less dramatic.”

Connor smiles. 

“Let’s go inside,” Evan says and Connor gets up. They both bat sand off of their clothes and Evan playfully swats at Connor’s butt and Connor accuses him of just wanting to  _ touch  _ his butt and Evan laughs and says, “Guilty.”

They head inside. Once the door is closed, Evan pulls Connor into a kiss. A really fucking good kiss. The sort that makes Connor’s knees weak. Evan kisses him and threads his hands through Connor’s hair and it’s so good. 

Connor could do this forever. 

“Do you wanna go to bed?” Evan asks. 

Connor’s a little bit disappointed. He’s not too tired. And he really liked where this was going. But he knows Evan gets tired a little more easily these days so he doesn’t protest. How Evan feels absolutely takes priority. He takes Evan’s hand and follows him to Evan’s bedroom. 

“So the thing is,” Evan says a bit breathlessly as they’re about to walk into his bedroom. “I’m not actually tired.”

Connor looks at him, confused. 

Evan opens the door. 

The room is lit softly with strings of fairy lights. And there’s a small arrangement of flowers on the bed. Nice flowers. Ones that Evan  _ knows  _ Connor likes. Sunflowers and bright daisies and hydrangeas and forget-me-nots. 

Nobody’s ever given him flowers before. 

Connor looks at Evan, a bit speechless. 

“I hope it’s not like. S-super cheesy?” Evan says, and he’s blushing. Connor stares at him in wonder. “I didn’t want to do candles because. Fire hazard. But. Uh.” He takes Connor’s hand. “I love you and. I’m r-ready to have sex. If you. Wanna?”

If he wants to Jesus fuck Connor’s been  _ dreaming  _ about this for weeks. “Are you sure?” Connor says. His eyes take in the flowers on the bed. The lights. The way Evan’s smiling and blushing. 

Evan nods. “Yeah. I… actually it’s been kind of. Difficult. Keeping my hands to myself for the last couple of weeks.” 

Connor is  _ losing his mind.  _

“I love you,” he says, kissing Evan. Kissing him softly at first and then deepening the kiss and Evan tangles his hands in Connor’s hair and presses himself against Connor and it’s wonderful. 

“I love you,” Evan says back. 

It’s the best thing. 

They break apart and clear the flowers off of the bed, setting them on the dresser. Connor loves them. He tells Evan so. 

“I… good. I’m glad.”

They kiss some more. Both of them are definitely nervous. Connor breaks away after a few minutes to ask if they have. Like. Supplies. 

Evan’s face is bright red now. “Yes. Uh. They just kind of. Appeared in my bathroom one day.” 

Connor laughs. Kisses Evan’s neck. “Heidi’s got our back I see.”

“Please don’t talk about my mom right now.”

Connor grins stupidly at Evan. He  _ loves it  _ when Evan calls Heidi his mom. It makes him stupidly happy. “I love that you call her your mom now,” Connor says. 

Evan smiles back at him. “I love you.”

They keep kissing. 

Break apart to pull each other’s clothes off, stopping to check in all of the time. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.”

“Can I touch you?”

“Please.”

It’s a little bit awkward. They’re both nervous. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Connor asks once they’re back on the bed, kissing and touching and getting more familiar with each other as, like, naked people. “Because you absolutely do not have to.”

“I really  _ really  _ want to,” Evan says. 

Connor nods. “Okay. Okay.”

Evan kisses his forehead. His cheek. His neck where it meets his jaw. 

“I love you,” Evan says. 

“I love you too,” Connor says. He kisses Evan again. “Also don’t. Like. Feel weird or embarrassed if you wanna stop okay?”

“Okay. I trust you.”

“You might not. Like. Last super long?” Connor says quickly. “And I… probably won’t either?” He grins sheepishly. “I’ve been. Kind of. Hoping this would happen soon?”

Evan smiles and buries his face in Connor’s neck. They keep kissing and touching and they’re breathing a bit unevenly. They figure out logistics. Connor is sort of thrumming with excitement and nervous energy and so much affection for Evan. 

Connor bites his lip when he watches Evan grab the bottle of lube. 

They go very slow. Almost agonizingly slow but Connor wouldn’t have it any other way. Evan looks so good like this. His eyes are big and his cheeks and lips are flushed. “I kind of can’t believe you’re letting me do this,” he says to Connor, his voice rough. Lower. 

Connor can’t really form a coherent sentence. Evan’s  _ touching him _ and he’s here and he’s so beautiful and Connor is so fucking in love with him. 

They fumble a little bit with the condom. Connor bites his lip to keep a nervous giggle from escaping. 

This is really happening. 

“You can tell me to stop if anything feels weird or wrong,” Evan says in a rush. “Since I don’t r-really know what I’m doing.”

Connor would beg to differ. Evan  _ absolutely  _ knows what he’s doing and he’s already close to falling apart. 

“You too,” Connor says. “God I do not want to be the guy who wrecks your first time.”

“You won’t,” Evan says. Firmly. Confidently. “I trust you.”

Connor nods. They kiss some more. Evan settles between Connor’s legs. 

“Can you uh. Hold my hand?” Connor says suddenly as Evan’s adjusting his position. 

Evan looks at him. “You’re nervous.”

Connor can’t deny it. “I am. What if… what if you think I suck at this?”

Evan kisses him. “Putting aside that I’ve got  _ nothing  _ to compare it to,” he says, kissing him again. “I know you won’t. Because I love you… and you know. You have  _ reviews.” _

Connor giggles. “What if they were wrong? What if it’s like when everyone likes a movie and then you see it and you hate it?”

“I’m not gonna hate it. I love you.”

“Okay. I’m ready. If you’re ready?”

Evan nods. His face is screwed up in concentration. He takes Connor’s hand with his free hand. “You good?”

Connor nods. Evan presses forward. His mouth drops open, his eyes close tight. “Connor  _ oh my god.” _

Connor bites his lip to keep quiet but there is a noise that’s fighting its way out of him. They’re actually doing this. They’re actually having sex and Evan is so beautiful and he feels so  _ good  _ and he’s holding Connor’s hand tightly. His thumb brushes against Connor’s in this strangely distracting way. Like he’s reassuring  _ Connor,  _ who has done this before, like he’s trying to make sure  _ Connor’s  _ okay. 

And it’s kind of perfect. Evan lets Connor have a moment to adjust. They’re both breathing kind of shakily. Connor kisses Evan hard. “I love you so  _ fucking  _ much.”

“I love you too,” Evan says. He looks so  _ good.  _ His pupils are huge and blown and Connor feels as though he could fall into them and not care. He looks  _ so good.  _ Connor feels  _ so good.  _

Evan’s like. Inside him. Holding his hand. Kissing his neck and breathing a little unsteadily. 

Connor can’t wait anymore. He urges Evan forward and that’s even  _ better.  _

Connor has never felt so. Wanted. Cared for. Loved. 

“You’re okay?” Evan chokes out. 

“I’m amazing,” Connor returns. “You’re okay?”

Evan nods. He kisses Connor’s forehead. His cheek. His mouth. He’s really wonderful. Connor is totally coming apart. He wants this to go on for forever. He wants to live in this moment for the rest of his life. 

Evan tells Connor he loves him when he finishes, and Connor’s honestly not far behind. He’s overwhelmed by how  _ much  _ he’s feeling. By how perfect this is. 

“Stay,” he gasps when Evan rolls to the side. “Please stay?”

Evan kisses Connor fiercely. He gets up briefly to throw the condom away and grab something to clean Connor off, and then he wraps himself around Connor tightly. Connor’s shaking. Evan is too. “I love you so much. I’m not going anywhere. Not gonna leave you. Not ever.”

Connor turns so he can look at Evan. At his beautiful face and his smattering of freckles and his hair, a little disheveled and sweaty, at his rosy cheeks and well kissed lips and he knows he’s going to love Evan forever. For the rest of his damn life. 

“I love you.”

Evan kisses him again. 

And then Connor laughs. “You know… that was illegal.”

“What?” Evan says, kissing Connor’s collarbone. 

“Age of consent in California is eighteen,” Connor says with a giggle. “I’m breaking the law.” He kisses Evan. “Jailbait.”

Evan groans. “You are so stupid I love you  _ so  _ much.”

Connor pulls Evan to him tightly. Like he never plans to let go. Because he doesn’t. “I love you.”

They curl up in bed together. Just looking at each other as the waves roll in outside. Connor has never been as happy as he is right now. 

“Hey,” he says suddenly. Kissing Evan in the cheek. 

“Yeah?”

“I’m really glad you bummed me a smoke,” Connor says. “Last year.”

“Me too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "Fame < Infamy" by Fall Out Boy.


	62. Epilogue: You’ve Begun To Feel Like Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan gets officially adopted.

Heidi’s home when Evan gets back to the house after school. 

It’s unusual, but not as much as it would have been six months ago. She’s cut her hours of work drastically since April when Evan was in the hospital, and seems quite content to keep them that way even though he’s back at school and more or less completely healed. 

Evan had asked her about it earlier in the school year. Asked her when she thought she’d go back to work full-time. 

“I don’t need to work full-time,” she’d told him. “And this way, I get to spend more time with you.”

Evan’s not complaining, obviously. Having Heidi home more often is amazing. 

Still, it’s a Tuesday, and she’s usually in the office for a full day on a Tuesday, so this is a little out of the ordinary. 

“Hey sweetheart,” Heidi says, smiling at him brightly when she sees him. She looks around. “No Connor?”

“He’s got detention,” Evan says, rolling his eyes a little. “Sabrina dropped me home.”

“His trig teacher again?” Heidi asks, laughing a little. 

Evan shakes his head. “This year APUSH is the battlefield.” He can’t help but smile. “Pretty sure Connor’s winning, though.”

Heidi laughs again, then scrunches up her nose. “I kind of hoped he’d be here for this,” she admits, and something in Evan’s chest clenches. He’s noticing now that Heidi’s almost vibrating with energy, with something barely contained. 

“What’s going on?” 

Heidi’s whole face breaks into this huge smile and she hands him a folder. Evan takes it and opens it and stares at the first page for a moment before it sinks in. 

Before it hits what this is. 

“There’ll be a hearing,” Heidi tells him. “But it should be straightforward.” She clears her throat, something a little hesitant in her expression all of a sudden. “And because you’re over 12, you need to consent to the adoption. So…”

Evan blinks. It takes him a moment to figure out what she’s asking. 

What she’s saying. 

“You’re sure you want to do this?” he can’t help asking. “You’re sure you want to adopt me?”

Heidi looks straight at him, this soft smile on her face. “I’ve never been more sure of anything, Evan.” She steadies her shoulders. “So what do you say, kid? Would it be okay if I adopted you?”

Evan doesn’t realize he’s tearing up until his vision starts to blur a little. 

Fuck. 

“Yeah,” he manages to choke out. “Yes. I really want you to, I…”

He blinks a few times. 

Wipes his face with the back of his hand. 

Heidi pulls him into a tight hug immediately and Evan just.

Breaks. 

It’s embarrassing and lame and he shouldn’t be fucking crying, this is a good thing. The best thing. This is safety and home and all the things he thought he’d never have, so why is he  _ crying?  _ Why is he reacting like this when it’s good news?

“I love you,” Heidi tells him fiercely. “I love you _ so much, _ I can’t wait to officially be your mom, Evan.”

“I love you,” Evan replies immediately, blinking to try to stop the tears from falling. “I’m sorry I’m crying, I-”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Heidi interrupts. She holds onto him tightly. “It’s big. This is big for both of us. You’re allowed to feel whatever you’re feeling.”

The two of them cling to each other for a long time. Evan realizes after a few moments that Heidi’s crying, too, but he knows that she’s not upset or sad. He knows how happy she is about this. 

He knows how much she loves him. 

He _ knows.  _

After school started back up, Larry and Heidi had begun gently suggesting that maybe Connor and Evan didn’t need to spend  _ every  _ night sleeping in the same bed. That maybe perhaps they could both sleep in their own beds more often. 

If Evan had it his way, he’d be waking up next to Connor every morning, but he gets why their parents have tightened the reins on it a little. They’re in high school, after all. They’re teenagers. Kids, really. 

Some days Evan feels like he never got the chance to be a kid, so there’s a part of him that's almost grateful for having a parent who’ll put their foot down. 

Almost. He’d still rather be with Connor. 

But it’s not like Larry or Heidi have said they have to stop sleeping in each others’ beds. All they’ve said is that it shouldn’t be all the time. So Connor and Evan have taken that into consideration and are trying their hardest to be a little less codependent. 

They try to save their nights together for when they really need them. 

For the nights when it’s just too hard to sleep alone, when they’re haunted by the ghosts of bullshit past. 

As overwhelmingly happy as he is, Evan has the feeling that it’s going to be one of those nights. So as soon as he and Heidi manage to pull themselves together after crying their eyes out, he asks her if it’s okay for Connor to stay over tonight. 

Heidi smiles at him. Wipes her eyes. 

“I already spoke to Larry,” she says. “I figured you might need it.”

Evan can’t stop himself. He has to hug her again. 

Heidi is just… the best. 

The best, most kind and wonderful person. 

Evan texts Connor immediately, asking him to come over once he’s finished with detention. Asking him to stay over. He tries to keep the message as straightforward as possible, not wanting to freak him out, but it doesn’t quite seem to work because when Connor does arrive, the first thing he does is ask Evan if he’s okay. 

“I’m okay,” Evan assures him. 

Connor doesn’t look convinced. “Your hands are shaking.”

Evan looks down. He hadn’t even noticed. 

“I’m okay,” he repeats. “I’m… I’m good. I’m really, really good? I…” 

He blinks. Looks at Connor. Feels something inside his chest clench, because he’s just… overwhelmed by all of this. 

By the gravity of what’s happening. How important it is. 

How completely unbelievable and wonderful and life-changing and incredible it is. 

Connor looks confused, and more than a little concerned. “What’s going on?”

Embarrassing, Evan feels his eyes start to sting. Connor’s eyes widen in alarm but before he can do anything, Evan blurts it out. “Heidi’s got the adoption papers. She… she’s going to adopt me.”

Connor stares at him for a moment. Then his whole face breaks into a smile, and his nose turns red and so do his cheeks and he pulls Evan into a tight hug. 

And for the second time that afternoon, Evan breaks.

There aren’t the words to describe this. 

He doesn’t have the words to describe how wonderful and incredible it is that this is happening. This is actually happening, he’s actually got a family. 

A home. A real home. 

A mom who loves him and wants to take care of him. Who has done so much already to prove that she has his back, that she’ll still be there when he fucks everything up. Who has proved over and over and over again that she’s not giving up on him. She’s not going anywhere. 

Evan has a home. A place to belong. 

Newport Beach might still be way too fancy, full of high society assholes and people with more money than sense. Full of people who look down on anyone who doesn’t have their kind of status. But it’s not Newport Beach where Evan belongs. 

It’s not about the place at all. 

It’s about the people he found here. 

The people he loves here. 

It’s Heidi, who took a chance on an idiot kid who helped steal a car for a plate of chilli fries. Who picked him up and took him home and saved him. 

And Connor. 

Connor, who asked him for a cigarette in the middle of a night when Evan’s life had just been turned upside down, when Evan thought he’d drown in the confusion of it all. Who jumped in to help him fight barely twenty-four hours later. 

Who he felt a connection to from the moment they met. 

Who challenged the bullshit Evan was raised with and was so unapologetically real that it made Evan feel safe to try to figure things out for himself. Connor taught him so fucking much about himself. 

Connor, the only person Evan has ever been in love with. 

The only person he ever wants to be in love with. 

He’s seventeen and stupid and impulsive and reckless, but he  _ knows  _ that he loves Connor. He’s sure of it. 

And Evan gets to stay here. 

He gets to stay with Heidi and with Connor, with the two people who mean the most to him in the whole world. 

Heidi’s making it official. Making Evan officially her son. 

Which means he gets to stay. 

Which means he never has to leave.

He never wants to leave. 

* * *

Connor feels a little like a kid, too excited for Santa Claus to come to sleep the night before Christmas. That’s how it feels the night before Evan’s adoption hearing. He doesn’t know if Evan would describe the feeling the same way, exactly. 

Connor can tell he’s nervous. Worried something will go wrong at the last minute. Connor can practically hear the anxious thoughts buzzing around in Evan’s head. 

“It’s just a formality,” Connor reminds him quietly. Both of them are sitting up in Evan’s bed. The hands of Evan’s old fashioned, thousand year old alarm clock tick comfortingly on his nightstand, even as the hours wear on. “Heidi said it’s just like. Putting the bow on it, making it all legal and tidy.”

Evan nods. “I know. I  _ know,” _ He says, gripping Connor’s hand in a way that gives away his nerves. “Just. What if something goes wrong? Wh-what if, like, a n-notary fucked up a page or-or something?”

“Heidi definitely could find another notary on the fly,” Connor says reassuringly. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“But what if -”

“Hey,” Connor says seriously. He puts his hands on Evan’s shoulders and looks him dead in the eye. “Your brain is just being a dick right now. It’s totally normal to worry that shit will go wrong after all of the shit that has, okay? But this time is different. So don’t listen to your asshole brain. Listen to me, okay? Everything is going to be okay. Heidi is going to be your mom, legally, tomorrow, come hell or high water. Okay?”

Evan blinks a few times. Connor’s suddenly scared he might have made Evan cry. But then Evan smiles a little and throws his arms around Connor, hugging him tightly. “Th-thank you, th-thanks I just -”

“I get it. It’s totally normal to worry. But you don’t have to. Not about this.” 

Evan nods. They sit back against the headboard. Evan rests his head against Connor’s shoulder. “It j-just. I didn’t… I n-never thought it would h-happen?”

Connor presses a kiss to the side of Evan’s head, then gently rubs his hand over the back of Evan’s neck. “I know. But it did. It’s happening.” He pulls Evan to him a little bit tighter. “Heidi loves you so much. And I know how much you love her. This is a good thing. A great thing. And it’s going to be good, okay? It’s gonna be so good.”

Evan looks up at Connor, his eyes big and a little anxious. “I love you.”

Connor gives him a stupid, dopey smile that he’s sure makes him look all soft and weird but he doesn’t care. “I love you too,” He says softly. “And you deserve to be adopted, okay? Don’t let the shit in your brain try to tell you otherwise. Heidi loves you like crazy and you two are already a family. You’re just making it official.”

Evan gives Connor a look, the sort of look he gives Connor when Connor says something weird or purposefully calls out their APUSH teacher for his bullshit. “That’s what p-people say when couples get  _ married _ , Connor.”

Connor laughs. “In the grand scheme of things, it’s not that different. You’re signing a legal document saying you’re family now. Isn’t that all marriage is?”

Evan smiles a little at him. “You should tell Alana that for her big speech on gay marriage. She’ll love it.”

“I don’t know how I feel about how I’ve been recruited as her unofficial speech writer,” Connor jokes. 

“Put it on your resume.”

Connor kisses Evan’s cheek. Evan kinda cuddles up closer to him. They just sit there together, wrapped up in each other. Connor is honestly thrilled about tomorrow. He can’t imagine two people who deserve to be officially recognized as a family more. Heidi clearly loves Evan so much. It’s obvious to anyone who hears her talk about him that Heidi loves Evan. 

It reminds Connor a little of being small. Watching David’s eyes light up when Heidi walked into a room. The look on his face like Heidi’s mere presence with the best gift anyone could ever ask for. 

It’s a little different, but Connor sees that same sort of warmth and love on Heidi’s face whenever she sees Evan. Like she’s just so happy he exists. Like she’s so thrilled to sit him down and talk him through boring shit like how to fill out a check for their stupid Financial Literacy class or watch  _ Mean Girls  _ with Evan and Connor on the couch for the fifth time in as many months because Evan swore he was going to stay awake this time. Connor loves how much she obviously loves Evan. How she’s always casually bragging about him whenever Connor hears her talking to another adult; one Saturday when Connor stayed over, he overheard Heidi bragging to Laurel on the phone about what a good writer Evan was, reading pieces of his essay on  _ Sula  _ out loud with such pride in her voice. 

And Evan looks at Heidi the same way. He’s not shy about talking her up around Alana, Zoe, and Sabrina, this sort of quiet pride in his voice when he talks about the work Heidi’s been doing to defend undocumented immigrants or when he says she told him he was a good cook. Evan clearly loves Heidi. He just adores her, it’s so obvious, and it’s just as obvious that the feeling is mutual. 

Connor wonders if maybe they were meant to find each other. He will be the first to admit that he knows fuck all about how the universe works or whatever, but to him it seems pretty clear that some force pulled Evan and Heidi together. Something important happened the day that Heidi was assigned Evan’s case. 

And Connor is so grateful. 

For himself, obviously, because he loves Evan and genuinely doesn’t think he’d be here if they hadn’t met. The odds of Connor totally catapulting into full-on insanity last year were concerningly high before he met a boy who would throw a punch for him. 

But mostly Connor is grateful that Heidi and Evan have each other for them. 

Evan’s a kid who desperately needed a parent who loved him. And Heidi is someone who was built to be a good mom who went years without a kid. And they found each other. Despite all of the pain and grief. The devastating losses they’ve endured. Despite all of that, they found each other. They picked each other. And tomorrow they would be officially, on paper, a family. And Connor’s so grateful. He can’t imagine two people who deserve that certainty of a family who loves them more. 

“Can I say something weird?” Evan says to him then, his voice quiet from where Evan’s face is pressed against Connor’s neck. 

“Always.”

“I think… I think my mom would be happy. That I met Heidi,” Evan says. “That Heidi’s gonna, like, officially be my mom.” He exhales softly against Connor’s skin. “And. Like. She’s not gonna stop being my mom just because Heidi’s adopted me or whatever. I just… I dunno. I think she’d be happy for me? And that she’d like Heidi.” He clears his throat softly. “Sorry, th-that’s weird.”

Connor presses a kiss to Evan’s head. “I don’t think that’s weird.” He smiles at him. “I would hope that your mom knows Heidi loves you and wants to make sure you’re taken care of. Loved. Not alone.”

Evan looks up at Connor. 

And suddenly Connor feels like it’s important to say this. He looks at Evan. Takes in his gorgeous face with its hundreds of freckles dappling his nose and cheeks, his gorgeous eyes, the slight pinch in his eyebrows and the way he’s biting his lip. “I love you,” Connor says. “And… between me and Heidi? We’re gonna make sure you’re never alone again. Okay?”

Evan’s cheeks turn a soft, rosy pink. “Okay.”

Suddenly Connor remembers something. “I have something for you,” he says. 

“You… what?” Evan says, his face twisted with confusion. 

“I have something for you,” Connor repeats. He gets up and heads across the room, into his backpack. He pulls out the wrapped box and feels his face heat up a little. “It’s kinda dumb but… well. I got it for your birthday originally. And then everything happened and. I dunno it felt sort of weird to give it to you…”

Evan eyes the box with a sort of guarded curiosity. “I have no idea what to expect now.”

Connor rolls his eyes and hands over the box. “You can open it. I just. It’s probably lame but when I saw it I knew I had to get it for you…”

Evan looks at Connor and smiles softly. “You did?”

“Yeah.”

“Before my birthday?” Evan asks. 

Connor’s definitely blushing. “Look I never denied having a thing for you before we got together,” Connor says. “I told you. I want you from the moment I saw you.”

Evan grins. 

“Trust me, it’s not as good as you’re imagining. It’s just… dumb but it never felt like the right time to give it you once we were both home so. Just open it okay?”

Evan smiles at Connor and carefully unwraps the bright, sky blue paper Connor had chosen to wrap it in. He pulls the box out of the paper and then gingerly opens it. Connor’s heart aches thinking about how few presents Evan must have unwrapped in his life. Not that everything comes down to gifts - but that he didn’t have people who were willing or able to give him any. 

Evan’s eyes go huge when he pulls it out of the box. 

Connor still feels like it’s kind of stupid. It’s just a silly Velcro armed monkey plush. The kind you can get in a zoo gift shop or win at a carnival game. 

Evan’s eyes are glassy as he looks at the little stuffed monkey. 

“It’s dumb probably but you told me the first time that we visited your mom about Alexander and how… how you didn’t have him anymore. And I know it’s not the same thing but…” Connor trails off. “Sorry that’s such a weird thing to give you, this is exactly why I didn’t give it to you at your birthday-”

“I love you,” Evan says suddenly, his voice ragged. Connor realizes he’s crying. Sort of holding the stuffed animal to his chest. “You… you have  _ no idea,  _ Connor, nobody’s ever… d-d-done something like this for me?”

Connor feels the tension in his chest release a little. “You don’t hate it?”

“No,” Evan says, shaking his head hard. “No. I love it. I love you.” He leans forward and pulls Connor into a kiss. One that is so slow and sweet and wonderful that Connor genuinely forgets to breathe until he gets almost lightheaded. And then he just breathes through his nose and kisses Evan more. Kisses him with everything he’s got. Because he loves him  _ so much  _ and he’s so happy for him, so happy he’s found the family he has, but he wants Evan to know that he loves  _ all  _ of him. The parts that pre-date them. That pre-date Heidi. He loves Evan so wholly, so fiercely, that he loves the little boy he was when his mom died who carried around a stuffed monkey because his mom said it would be a protector. 

He loves him. Who he was. Who he is. Who he will be after today. 

Evan thanks him a hundred times. Maybe more. Connor shrugs. Says he’s sorry he never gave it to Evan before now. “It just. Felt kinda obvious and weird after your birthday?”

“I love it. I love you. Thank you. You… I can’t believe you got this for me.”

They stay up too late talking. About what it means that Evan’s going to officially, legally be Heidi’s son. 

“You really think she doesn’t mind that I’m keeping my name?” Evan asks softly, his head on Connor’s shoulder. 

“If anybody would understand wanting to keep your name, it’s Heidi,” Connor says. His voice is tired and scratchy. “She’s been correcting everyone for almost twenty years that her last name’s not Henderson.”

Evan yawns. 

“We should sleep,” Connor says gently. 

Evan blinks at him. “You really mean it?” He says, his voice quiet. Shy almost. So much softer than Connor would have ever expected when they first met. “That I won’t… that I’m not gonna be alone?”

Connor kisses him gently. “I really mean it. You are not alone.”

Evan rests his head back on Connor’s shoulder. Connor keeps his arm wrapped around him. He’s never meant anything more. 

Because Evan… makes him feel like he’s not alone. He’s been by his side through the wildest year of his life. And Connor loves him so much. 

His entire life, Connor never really felt totally at home. Not in his family, not in this place, not even in his family. But with Evan, Connor feels like he’s finally found somewhere where he belongs. 

And he hopes Evan feels that too. Evan deserves that. More than anyone Connor knows, Evan deserves to feel like he has a place. A home. A family. 

Connor realizes that Evan’s dropped off to sleep. He presses a kiss to the top of his head. Carefully leans over to switch off the lamp in his bedroom. Evan shifts a little in his sleep, not letting Connor go. 

And as Connor falls asleep, holding tight to Evan, he thinks that he’s not letting go either. He’s never letting go. 

* * *

In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t take long. There’s paperwork and things to sign and papers to file, all of which Heidi handles expertly. Once that’s done, it’s just a case of waiting until the hearing, which is scheduled for early November. 

Evan’s nervous. 

It’s stupid to be nervous, he knows, but he is anyway. He’s been to court two times in before and both times were stressful as hell. There was the hearing after he and Ethan got arrested. 

And then there was his dad’s trial. 

He hadn’t wanted to be there. Not really. He and Connor had both been required to testify and it had been…

Harrowing. 

Terrifying. 

Shameful, in a way. Knowing that all these people knew how much he’d fucked up.

How much his dad had hurt him. 

His  _ dad. _

Fuck. He must have looked so pathetic to that jury. So fucking pathetic. 

This is different. This time it’s different. This time no one’s on trial, no one’s in trouble, no one has done anything wrong. Heidi says that in a lot of ways, it’s a formality. It’s not even in a courtroom, it’s held in the judge’s chambers. 

Connor stays over the night before the hearing. Neither of them sleep much. In the morning, they both get changed into suits and Connor helps Evan with his tie, his long fingers tying it with practiced ease, like he’s done it a million times before. 

Which, obviously, he has. 

When Connor’s done, he kisses Evan fiercely and tells him he loves him. 

The tension in Evan’s shoulders releases, just a little. 

Connor loves him. 

No matter what happens today, Connor loves him. 

When they get to the courthouse, they meet up with the rest of their group. Laurel’s flown all the way from D.C. to be there for the day. She gives Heidi a tight hug when she sees her, then hugs Evan immediately after, equally as tight. 

The Murphys are there, too. 

All of them. 

Zoe and Larry greet all three of them with hugs, but Mrs. Murphy stands back at a respectful difference. She looks a little uncomfortable, like she’s not sure she should be here, but after a moment Heidi and Larry go back over to her and engage her in a conversation Evan can’t quite hear. There’s something in Connor’s mom’s expression that’s cautious and a little hesitant, but she’s smiling and it reaches her eyes. 

Connor kisses Evan before they go inside, soft and sweet and perfect, and it calms Evan a little. 

Heidi puts her arm around Evan’s shoulder as they greet the judge. Evan knows Heidi knows this judge and he seems friendly enough. Smiles widely at Evan and greets him kindly. 

Then it’s happening. 

It’s actually happening. 

It doesn’t actually take that long, and Evan feels a little bit like he’s underwater. Like there’s a part of him waiting for it to all turn out to be a joke. For it to all go wrong. 

But it doesn’t. 

It doesn’t go wrong. 

It doesn’t go wrong, and before he knows it Heidi is pulling him into the tightest hug imaginable and Evan is officially adopted. 

He’s officially Heidi’s son. 

Heidi is officially his mom. 

It’s right there on paper, right there in black and white. Something real and tangible and wonderful that he can hold onto. 

“We’re framing this,” Heidi tells him, and she’s crying and smiling and holding onto him so tightly. “We’re framing it and putting it in the living room, okay kid?”

“Okay,” Evan manages to choke out before Heidi’s hugging him tightly again. 

It’s a flurry of activity. Looking back, Evan remembers the day in flashes. Snapshotted moments he’ll never forget. There are plenty of photos to remember the day by but what really stick are the moments they didn’t catch on camera. 

Connor’s parents standing together at the courthouse, Larry openly crying and Mrs. Murphy definitely teary-eyed, both smiling. 

Laurel telling Zoe how awesome her hair looks. It’s purple with thick pink streaks in it. 

Heidi and Larry, hugging tightly, both beaming with pride. 

Connor’s hand in Evan’s, holding it tightly. 

Connor’s lips on his. 

Connor holding onto him tightly, both of them brimming with the emotion of it all, holding onto each other for what felt like a long, long time. 

Connor’s voice in Evan’s ear as he holds onto him. 

“I love you so much. So fucking much.”

And through it all, what Evan remembers most is the overwhelming feeling that finally, after years and years, he knows exactly where he’s supposed to be. 

Exactly where he belongs. 

He has a family. A real family. 

And he belongs right here. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title from "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco.  
> Chapter title from "Look After You" by The Fray.


End file.
